Yankee Doodle Disease

An Age-Old Problem

Throughout history, the greatest threat to most armies was not enemy swords, spears, bayonets, bombs, or bullets. Until at least World War II, disease and infection killed or incapacitated more soldiers than combat. Even today, during the Coronavirus pandemic, there are reports of infections within the military at much higher rates than the general population. Like many people worldwide, I have been staying at home and watching a global epidemiological disaster unfold, while trying to ignore the uncomfortable fact that I am at the center of it. As are we all. This naturally led me to reflect on the topic in the context of the times of the Yankee Doodle Spies.

The Black Death wreaked havoc and terrorized
over centuries of outbreaks

Disease in War

In a strange irony, war unites people. Not just through direct clashes between enemies but through the essential bonding of close-knit units who are forced to eat, sleep, train, and fight together. Camps and garrisons turn into breeding grounds, especially when hygiene is neglected. It is this very closeness that makes them so vulnerable when different outbreaks occur.

Gathering of soldiers in military camps was
ground-zero for the spread of disease

Epidemics have weakened armies, sometimes rendering them unfit for combat, outbreaks have halted military operations, and of course, there is the impact on civilian populations that armies come into contact with. Geography influences the spread of disease, with both bitter cold and scorching hot climates playing a role. Swamps, coastal areas, and cities all provide environments conducive to various types of illness. Additionally, the transportation of armies involves moving soldiers to new lands where they can encounter unfamiliar diseases and potentially bring their own to affect local populations. 

Yankee Doodle Disease

The American Revolution, in many ways, exemplifies all of these factors. Men from farms and forests mixed with men from towns and seaports. Undernourished, often poorly dressed and exposed to the elements, these men (and women) often faced an enemy worse than any redcoat or Hessian—a foe invisible to the naked eye that, in most cases, even the best medicine of the time could not understand or fight. Simply put, they faced germs that delivered a punch as deadly as any .69-inch musket ball or 17-inch bayonet. Diseases such as smallpox, dysentery, and malaria were common among American, British, and Hessian soldiers alike. This enemy didn't pick sides. Given the close quarters of 18th-century camps, these diseases spread through a camp like a windstorm across the high plains.

Disease killed more men than
musket balls or bayonets

A Different Kind of Battle

The soldier of the American Revolution faced highly professional armies equipped with the best weapons of the late 18th century. But if musket and cannon did not kill the soldier, the state-of-the-art treatment for a wound or illness might. Data indicates the typical combatant had a 98% chance of surviving battle but about a 75% chance of walking (or limping) out of the hospital. Unsanitary conditions, ignorance of vectors, and lack of practical remedies combined in a tragically unfair fight for the wounded or sick patriot. There were no antibiotics, but plenty of bleeding. No anesthetic, but plenty of bullets to bite. And if things looked really serious? Not to worry — there was an abundance of trained surgeons and their assistants who could cut off a limb or bleed the lifeblood from you.

State-of-the-art medical kit of the Rev War

A Different Kind of Surgeon

During the American Revolution, almost anyone could claim to be a doctor and start practicing medicine as long as they apprenticed with another doctor for a few years. Very few were trained surgeons from Edinburgh or London. Even if they were, medical science at the time was based on theories—often false—not on real scientific knowledge. This was especially true for illnesses, particularly infectious diseases. Doctors often believed most illness resulted from “an imbalance of the humors”—blood, yellow bile, black bile, and phlegm. How to restore the humors’ balance? The common methods included bloodletting or using herbal mixtures to induce vomiting or bowel movements. Many approaches aimed to rebalance the humors.

Bleeding was a common treatment for bad humors

A Different Kind of Pharmacist

Medicine during the time of the Yankee Doodle Spies was hard to find. Before the war, medicine, like nearly everything else, had to come from England. That was one reason we rebelled. The war broke that supply chain until the French alliance in 1778. A new supply line from France brought medicine to America. But even when medicine reached the army camps, most of it was of limited use, if not dangerous. In a medical field that had no anesthetics, opiates were the main painkillers, followed by hard liquor and the bullet previously mentioned. For various ailments, some surgeons used mercury compounds, lavender spirits, and cream of tartar.

Medicines of the day were interesting

Climate Change

Disease could strike regardless of climate. Winter brought seasonal flu and pneumonia that overwhelmed soldiers with their own lungs. The years of the American Revolution saw harsh winters, partly due to a mini-ice age. Many perished at Valley Forge, Morristown, Newburgh, and other winter cantonments. Summer, especially in the South, swamps, and low-lying coastal flats, produced noxious vapors—often malaria, but more frequently deadly yellow fever. Of course, these vapors, traditionally called miasmas, were not the actual cause. Insects, specifically mosquitoes, were the real vector.  

Swamps along the Georgia and Carolina littoral were a breeding ground
for the"noxious and bilious vapors" that plagued both sides

The war in the South was heavily affected by disease. It was one of the biggest concerns for the British high command, who had experience sending soldiers into warmer regions. The outbreak of disease repeatedly weakened General Charles Cornwallis’s army in the Carolinas, affecting battles and strategy. At crucial moments, key lieutenants got sick, as did Cornwallis himself. When he finally had a reasonably fit and equipped force at Wilmington, he chose to move north to Yorktown instead of back into South Carolina, partly to get his army into a healthier climate. We know how that turned out.

Disease factored into the strategy
 of Lord Cornwallis, with unpredictable results

Mother of All Maladies

Smallpox was a deadly disease during the time of the Yankee Doodle Spies. It could leave permanent scars even if it didn't kill you. Armies and their camp-followers were highly vulnerable, and outbreaks threatened both sides. Smallpox somewhat resembles the coronavirus in how it appears. It spreads through direct contact, not through insects or other vectors. The incubation period can be up to two weeks before symptoms appear. Its symptoms are similar to those of the flu and COVID-19, including fevers, headaches, and body aches.

However, smallpox also causes pustules to form across the body. Soldiers suffered for about another two weeks before they either recovered or succumbed. The disease killed about one out of three infected (a 30% mortality rate, in Dr. Fauci’s terms), and survivors often took weeks to fully recover. Of course, the characteristic scars served as a constant reminder for both the individual and those around them.

The Continental Army experienced outbreaks during the siege of Boston and the defense of New York, when large numbers of soldiers were gathered in cramped conditions. There were two main approaches to fighting the disease, neither of which was particularly effective when it came to waging war.

Soldiers from over a half-dozen states gathered outside
Boston, providing conditions ripe for the spread of disease

Social Distancing

The first was quarantine, the social distancing of the day. Hard to do when men are organized in units such as companies, regiments, and brigades. Harder to do in winter quarters, where men huddled freezing around smoky campfires and shared common meals together. Meals were often sparse and unnutritious. The Continental Army could not telework. Well, at least not for long.

Winter cantonments such as Valley Forge, Morristown
 and Newburgh offered little chance for social distancing

Variolation

As controversial in the time of the Yankee Doodle Spies as it is today, smallpox was one of the few diseases preventable by inoculation, then called variolation. The variolator used a lancet with fresh matter taken from the pustule of someone with active smallpox. The material was then scraped onto the arms or legs of the recipient, or introduced through the nose. There were risks associated with this; recipients often developed symptoms like fever and a rash. However, fewer people died from variolation than if they had contracted smallpox naturally. In a study conducted during an outbreak in Boston in 1722, those without variolation died at a rate of 14%, while the variolated died at 2% (.14 versus .02 in Dr. Fauci's terms). This might have been one of the earliest examples of data in medical science.

Surgeon-in-Chief

Besides serving as commander-in-chief and spymaster-in-chief, General George Washington was the ultimate decision-maker on medical procedures used to fight outbreaks. He had a mild case of smallpox earlier in life during an expedition to the West Indies. However, military needs in 1775 and 1776 prevented him from ordering widespread variolation. Meanwhile, the British were administering it to any recruits coming to America. 

The year 1777 required forced inoculation to
prevent the army from wasting away from smallpox

By 1777, the situation shifted. A series of outbreaks that year claimed as many as 100,00 lives in North America. The colonies had only 2.5 million residents, not including native tribes in the colonies, Spanish America, and Canada. But that's still a pretty large “numerator,” as the good doctor would say. Washington had to weigh the risk that mass inoculation might weaken the Continental Army and finally approved the procedure, starting with all new recruits. By the next year, however, a significant number of men had still somehow avoided the process. This time, Washington issued strict orders that these men would undergo inoculation. Washington made variolation for smallpox "settled science."

Father of Public Health

Just as the ravages of infectious disease helped signal the end of the Roman Empire, Medieval Europe, and other civilizations, the major smallpox outbreaks in America during the fight for independence may have achieved what large numbers of redcoats and Hessians could not—break the resolve of the patriots. It is not hyperbole to say that the mass inoculation ordered by Washington saved the army and, consequently, the American cause. He may even add the honorific, the “Father of Public Health,” in addition to the “Father of His Country.”

First in War, First in Peace,
First in Public Health

The King's Rake

Beauing, belling, dancing, drinking,

Breaking windows, cursing, sinking

Every raking, never thinking,

Live the Rakes of Mallow,

Spending faster than it comes,

Beating waiter's bailiffs, duns,

Bacchus' true begotten sons,

Live the Rakes of Mallow.

And so begin the lyrics of the mid-18th-century song that remains in today's culture as an international classic, "The Rakes of Mallow." This song tells of the rakes from the farming town of Mallow, about 20 miles north of the city of Cork. What exactly is a rake? Although Mallow is a farming town, we aren't talking about the gardening tool. The other rake is an old-fashioned term for a person who indulges in drinking, gambling, womanizing, and rowdy behavior — traits both celebrated and condemned in Georgian England. This brings us to the rake in this story—the complex and never uninteresting George Hanger...

The Rake at Dawn

George Hanger was born near Berkshire, England, around 1751. His father was Gabriel, the 3rd Baron Coleraine, an Irish peer. As the third son of an upper-class noble, it was almost destined that he would pursue a military career. Hanger was educated at Eton and then spent a year at the University of Göttingen in Hannover, Germany. 

A bright student, Hanger had a rakish appearance and enjoyed the proverbial wine, women, and gambling—not necessarily in that order. He allegedly fought three duels by the age of 20 and was reputed to be an excellent shot. While in Germany, Hanger observed the legendary Prussian Army of Frederick the Great during maneuvers and decided then and there to follow a military path. 

In January 1771, he was appointed an ensign in the 1st Foot Guards, a prestigious regiment of the household troops. Hanger performed well but resigned after being passed over for a promotion just four years later. Early signs of his lifestyle began to surface.

George Hanger

Soldier for Hire

Hanger's German contacts served him well, and he soon received a captain's commission in the Feldjäger Korps of the forces of the Landgrave (Elector) of Hesse-Kassel, another elite unit. I think we know where this is going... It was as part of this group of young Teutonic aristocrats that Hanger sailed for America when the Landgrave "rented" his troops to King George III. 

Leaving Portsmouth in March 1776, young Hanger arrived just in time for some of the most "fun" episodes for crown forces during the entire eight-year struggle. He played a role in the relentless campaigns that swept the rebels from New York and the Jerseys in 1776, as well as in the less glamorous but equally brutal skirmishes of 1777. His performance was so impressive that he took command of an elite Hessian Jaeger (light infantry) company recruited from all the Hessian regiments in the army. 

According to reports, Hanger distinguished himself in the months that followed. His unit undertook much of the screening, patrolling, and small-scale fighting around Kingsbridge, Spuyten Duyvil, and Westchester. Around this time, he learned that his estate back in Britain had gone into foreclosure, and through a series of misfortunes, he found himself in dire financial straits. Our young hero had become a self-proclaimed "soldier of fortune,"

Hanger became a master of light infantry

An Unlikely Spy

When the British occupation of Newport, Rhode Island, ended in 1779, Hanger was chosen by the British commander in chief, General Henry Clinton, to undertake a daring reconnaissance mission to see if the American occupiers had left their defenses vulnerable for reconquest. He sailed 150 miles north from the mouth of New York Harbor on a frigate and led a twelve-man longboat into dangerous waters during a bold night raid. He captured a prisoner and returned to New York with him. Hanger was later criticized in American papers when the prisoner unexpectedly fell ill and died.

An unlikely Hanger sails on a secret mission
 to Rhode Island: espionage

Moving South

Patrick Ferguson
 - a badass

Later, Hanger took command of a mix of rifle and musket units and was seconded to the renowned "counter-guerrilla" Major Patrick Ferguson, one of the tough British officers of the war whose death at King's Mountain signaled the beginning of the end in the South. But I digress. With Ferguson, Hanger sailed to the Carolinas under General Henry Clinton in the spring of 1780, marking the start of the "southern strategy." After a brief stint as Clinton's aide-de-camp and then inspector of militia under Ferguson, the ever-adaptable Hanger managed to transfer to Banastre Tarleton's British Legion. The two hard-drinking, rough-and-tumble aristocrats hit it off, and Tarleton made Hanger his deputy. Hanger joined the green-jacketed band of Loyalist regulars that would become infamous under Tarleton.

Infamous Banastre Tarleton
Hanger's mentor and commander

The Legion

Lord Charles Cornwallis

The Legion led Major General Charles Cornwallis's invasion of North Carolina. When Tarleton was struck down by yellow fever, Hanger took command. Although an accomplished infantry fighter and dependable deputy, Hanger struggled with the cavalry, which was the vital strike force of Tarleton's Legion. 

He allowed himself to be ambushed at Wahab Plantation on September 21, 1780, where a partisan force under American Colonel William Davie attacked early in the evening. Surprised and overwhelmed, Hanger suffered 12 killed, 47 wounded, and almost 100 valuable horses captured. 

Tasked with leading the British advance against Charlotte less than a week later, he faltered again. This time, he let his horsemen become separated from their supporting infantry. Once more, Davie outmaneuvered him when Hanger's cavalry charged recklessly into the town without support. 

Hanger led several assaults against Davie's American riflemen, who were defending behind a wall. Hanger's men started to fall to the precise fire. Cornwallis himself had to step in to stabilize the situation. Hanger was severely wounded during the fight and later contracted yellow fever. Sick and injured, he was sent to the Bahamas (of all places) to recover.

Hanger led the Legion's cavalry to savage fighting and defeat
at Charlotte

Dead Ender?

Guy Carleton

When he recovered sufficiently, Hanger returned to New York in the summer of 1781 and resumed garrison duties. As the key to Britain's control over North America, New York was the center of attention, and Hanger found himself right back in the middle of things. He also returned to a city filled with bars, brothels, and rooms for him to enjoy during his downtime from drilling troops or patrolling the outskirts. 

One might think our young rake had the best of both worlds during this time. Ever the soldier, he sailed with General Clinton's relief force, aiming to rescue Cornwallis's trapped army at Yorktown. Upon hearing of the surrender, he went back to the city with the rest of the fleet. 

As peace negotiations settled on terms, Hanger took on another role: resettling members of the Legion. For that, he made a trip to Halifax, Nova Scotia, to find land and housing for the loyalists who chose not to go to England. Mission accomplished, he returned to New York. One has to see George as a proverbial dead-ender. He stayed with one of the last British units to evacuate the city, sailing with the final British commander and governor in North America, General Guy Carleton.

Hanger, "Forrest Gump-like," manages to
witness the American Revolution's climax

The Bad Boy of Georgian England

Once home, Hanger resumed the life of a flamboyant party boy. He became a social companion to another rake, the Prince of Wales, who later became King George IV. The prince enjoyed Hanger's rakish ways. Hanger seemed to have become famous simply for being famous — the subject of much satire and ridicule in what would be today's tabloids. His reckless lifestyle landed him in debtor's prison, where he spent two years (1798-1800). While in prison, he turned to writing and produced his memoirs there.

Hanger and his buddy, the Prince of Wales
attended many a party

When he left, he became a coal merchant (in which he was quite successful) but continued his addiction to gambling and partying around London. Throughout, Hanger flaunted contemporary mores, cavorting openly with women of all kinds, keeping a peculiar collection of dogs, cats, and monkeys, and generally thumbing his nose at the upper crust and middle class. One of his celebrated exploits was arranging a cross-country race between a flock of turkeys and a flock of geese!

Cartoon satire of Hanger

At the same time, he learned to leverage some of his strengths as a pamphleteer—similar to bloggers today. Reinventing himself as a subject matter expert, he published pamphlets on military topics, gambling, hunting, and shooting. Hanger engaged in public disputes over military policy during the Napoleonic Wars. He also wrote humorous advice columns on various subjects, most famously about the fairer sex. His antics and opinions were closely followed by the media of his time. In 1814, he was offered the barony of Coleraine but declined it to continue his "celebrated" lifestyle in London.

Cartoon satire of Hanger

The Legacy

Cartoon satire of Hanger

Despite his hard lifestyle, Hanger kept up his reputation as a notorious figure in town, a military expert, and a celebrated eccentric until his death in London on March 31, 1824. He left behind a second wife, possibly his housekeeper, and their son, who was denied his father's peerage. George Hanger was undoubtedly one of the more complex men of his era and certainly one of the most intriguing, if not amusing.

 Eventually, his notoriety caught up with him. The king distanced himself from him, high society shunned him, and the press ridiculed him. Yet, in many ways, he embodied his class and era: a curious mix of breeding, talent, courage, rapacity, and culture. It's a pity he didn't settle in America...

George Hanger, 4th Baron Coleraine?

The Palmetto Fortress

A Tour de Force

In the spring of 1776, the British planners in London aimed to turn their recent stalemate and embarrassing withdrawal from Boston into a strategic victory that would end the rebellion that year. One fleet was ready to strike the crucial port of New York with a direct attack, while another planned a quick left hook at the equally important port of Charleston. The latter strike was to come first, setting the stage for a more decisive blow in the middle Atlantic colonies. Charleston, the major southern city at the time, had vital connections to the key islands in the West Indies, which were always a top priority for British interests. Dominated by a planter class, South Carolina wasn't seen as a heavily rebel area that would fall easily. However, a few brave patriots proved them wrong.

A Last-Minute Plan

Lord Dartmouth

The British strike at the southern colonies actually began earlier in the year when William Legge, Lord Dartmouth, and Secretary of State for the Colonies ordered General Henry Clinton and Commodore Peter Parker to rendezvous with another armada under General Lord Charles Cornwallis off Cape Fear, North Carolina. Misfortune on land and at sea turned the North Carolina plan to mud. But before Clinton could sail north, Parker reported that a reconnoiter of Charleston indicated the defenses were ill-prepared and that a quick strike against Fort Sullivan on Sullivan's Island in the harbor would be successful. After that, the city could be successfully assaulted. Anxious for some "low-hanging fruit" after the Tar Heel frustration, Clinton concurred, and so they made their way south, anchoring off the city on 7 June 1776.

A City Prepares

Charleston's waters were treacherous
as the British would soon discover

But the South Carolinians in Charleston had long anticipated that they would be a target of the British and eagerly built up defenses on Sullivan's Island. This was a three-sided fort with sixteen-foot-high sand walls surrounded by softwood palmetto logs. The spongy palmetto wood absorbed the impact of cannonballs—the main threat to the fort. The fort was armed with twenty-five guns of various sizes and calibers, and housed a garrison of over four hundred men. Most importantly, the commanding officer of Fort Sullivan was militia Colonel William Moultrie, who would soon prove to be one of the most capable fighting generals of the war. The city itself had a garrison of over six thousand troops, including Continental Line infantry. In command was Major General Charles Lee, a former British officer and widely regarded (especially by himself) as the finest officer in the American cause. Lee believed that Fort Sullivan was too exposed to the fire of British warships and ordered it to be abandoned. However, South Carolina Governor John Rutledge overruled Lee, viewing it as a necessary buffer against a naval attack. Geography and hydrography favored the defenders; the narrow harbor channel, with strong currents and shoals, troubled the British as they planned where to land and how to position their ships. It took a month before they were ready to attack the city that was just within their reach.

Colonel William Moultrie's militia
staged a gallant defense

Bombs Bursting in Air... Sand.. and Wood

The South Carolina flag hoisted in battle
boosts morale

On 28 June, a bombardment commenced between Parker's warships aligned off Sullivan Island and Moultrie's raw militia manning the guns protected by sand and palmetto logs. The barrage went on for hours. The British gunners were frustrated that, despite hit after hit, the combination of sand and spongy logs inflicted little damage on the fort. Shot after shot from the warships either bounced off the walls or got absorbed into the soft walls of the palmetto. The Americans fired back. But low on gunpowder, Moultrie insisted that each shot be well-aimed. In the middle of the hours-long engagement, a British shot cut down the South Carolina flag. A brave sergeant named William Jasper, in full view of the British and the Americans, ignored the hail of lead and iron to mount the parapet and restore the flag. The impact on the morale of both sides was telling. As the battle continued, the defenders' deliberate fire took its toll on the British ships, scoring hit after hit. Things took a final turn against the British when Parker sent three frigates around Sullivan Island to take the defenders in the flank. Unaware of the dangerous waters of the channel, all three suddenly grounded in the shallows. After a struggle, the two freed themselves, but the third, HMS  Acteon, remained stuck. The frustrated crew burned it to prevent the rebels from taking it.

The savage naval bombardment was decided
by shoals, sand, and wood

Fight  on till Dark

Commodore Parker

The firing continued on both sides. Commodore Parker's flagship had its anchor cable severed by a shot, causing the ship to turn and present its exposed stern to American fire. The rounds poured in, and one actually passed between Parker's legs as he shouted out commands. The commodore was unhurt but indignant as the shot tore his pants off. When darkness descended on the harbor, Parker signaled the fleet to disengage. Exasperated, the British fleet sailed from the harbor. It would be four long years before they would deign to return to face the Carolinians and their palmettos. The next one would end differently, but in 1776, the failed attack presented the British with a near disaster. The Royal Navy incurred well over two hundred casualties - Moultrie's men less than forty. And what of General Clinton? His men had landed on nearby Long Island to prepare for an assault on the mainland once Fort Sullivan fell. With the warships gone, this would not be. Instead, they remained exposed there for several weeks before the British transports were able to sail in and they could re-embark.

The Result

The British armada returned to New York at the end of July with ships damaged and sailors and soldiers discouraged. However, they soon had a chance for some revenge when the British launched their massive attack on Long Island in late August. Still, the victory at Fort Sullivan kept the South safe for four crucial years. It introduced the world to a brave new leader and boosted morale across the Carolinas and the entire rebellion. And in honor of the palmetto’s role in the victory, the noble tree with soft bark was added to the South Carolina state flag, where it remains today.

South Carolina State Flag

Ramsour's Mill

Background

One of the least known but still crucial sites of the American Revolution was a small mill in North Carolina's Piedmont region. A modest backcountry mill, Ramsour's Mill, first played its part in the fight for independence during the summer of 1780. After Charleston, South Carolina fell in May 1780, General Charles Cornwallis was well on his way to dominating the South. Georgia and South Carolina were under British control, allowing the ambitious British general to turn his attention to North Carolina with an army of over 8,000. The southern strategy appeared to be working.

Lord Charles Cornwallis

Loyalists Gather

While Cornwallis rested his army in Charleston to prepare for his next move, two Loyalist leaders chose to act independently. The war for independence was, after all, a civil war, and these are often fought locally by the people who live there. So, Loyalists Lt. Colonel John Moore and Major Nicholas Welch decided to pursue their own goals by launching the first British attack on the North Carolina colony—their home turf. By June 13, 1780, they had successfully assembled a group of Loyal recruits at Jacob Ramsour’s Mill, near Clark’s Creek in Lincoln County, NC.

Patriot Response

However, General Griffith Rutherford, the shrewd and determined leader of the patriot forces in western North Carolina, had learned of the Loyalists gathering in Lincoln County. He immediately contacted patriot leaders, Colonel Francis Locke and Major Robert Wilson, and ordered them to assemble the militia to stop the Loyalists' assembly. To that end, 400 militia from Burke, Iredell, Mecklenburg, and Rowan Counties gathered at Mountain Creek on June 19. 

The recent British victory at Waxhaws boosted Tory morale, enabling Moore and Welch to collect around 1300 Loyalists - more than three times the number of local patriots. Recognizing that the Loyalists' numbers would only increase, Rutherford decided on a surprise attack against the Loyalist camp. A battle was about to unfold, pitting neighbor against neighbor.

Patriot mounted militia led the attack

Battle or Fratricide?

In the early hours of June 20, Locke led a militia band to Ramsour’s Mill to meet Adam Reep, a local patriot spy with intelligence on Loyalist troop location and strength. As the sun rose over Ramsour’s Mill, the rebel militia quietly moved through the early morning fog. The patriot cavalry launched a swift attack, aiming to surprise the Loyalists. Though initially repelled by the Loyalists' defenses, the rebel infantry advanced. The Tories were initially confused but were rallied by Moore and Welch to push back the patriot assault. 

The defenders held off the attackers at first, but soon rebel marksmen closed in, leading to close combat. Many on both sides were poorly armed. The chaos was intense, as this was a battle without uniforms. The Loyalists wore green pine twigs in their hats, while the patriots had white paper on theirs. The fighting was fierce—neighbor against neighbor, even brother against brother. It was as much personal as political, with each side viewing the other as a traitor. The battle lasted nearly two hours—a lengthy engagement for such a fight. Eventually, the Loyalists became disorganized, and many fled. When Colonel Rutherford arrived, the Loyalists requested a truce but demanded an immediate surrender. While negotiations took place, the remaining Loyalists fled, and about 50 were captured as prisoners.

The fighting was intense - and personal for many

The Result

The action at Ramsour's Mill cost seventy lives and left two hundred wounded. Most of the fallen, both patriots and Loyalists, were buried in a mass grave. The defeat so severely demoralized the Loyalists in that part of North Carolina that they never reorganized in that area again. As for the headstrong Colonel Moore, he and about 30 of his men were able to reach General Cornwallis, who was then at Camden. But Cornwallis, angered by Moore's rash actions and the defeat, threatened him with charges for disobeying orders.

Aftermath

Ramsour’s Mill deprived Cornwallis of Loyalist recruits when he finally invaded western North Carolina. More importantly, patriot morale received a significant boost from the unlikely victory. Additionally, the Loyalists' morale was so low that they never managed to properly recruit from that area again. This indirectly led to the chain of events that culminated in the patriot victory at King’s Mountain later that year. 

In a curious and ironic postscript, Ramsour's Mill played another role in the struggle for the South and Lord Cornwallis's ambitions. It was at Ramsour's Mill in January 1781 that Cornwallis paused his advance north to burn his wagons and excess baggage before resuming his futile pursuit of American General Nathanael Greene to the Dan River. 

This campaign exhausted Cornwallis's forces, and he eventually fell back under heavy pressure from ambushes and skirmishes initiated by the rebels who now sensed blood. Cornwallis finally faced Greene's resurgent army at Guilford Courthouse—a "victory" that proved costly and marked the beginning of the end for the Southern strategy.

Ramsour's Mill played a role in the fateful
race to the Dan of 1781

Winter Gamble

Darkness Descends

December 1776 was truly a month that tested men's resolve. The British had been pressing the Continental Army since their invasion of Long Island in the summer. The "victory" at Harlem was the closest the struggling Americans came to stopping Lord Howe's advance. The only thing standing between Washington and an early British victory that could end the rebellion was, well, Lord Howe. His smart strategic moves, well-executed naval landings, precise tactics, and professional sieges characterized Howe's offensive. However, his slow movements allowed Washington to repeatedly slip free.

Cornwallis crossed with five thousand crack troops to begin
the rout through the Jerseys

Winter Quarters

Lord Cornwallis

 By late December, Washington's army was safe across the Delaware River and prepared to defend the nation's capital, Philadelphia. He had fewer than 2500 effective troops, and that number would soon decrease as many enlistments ended in January, with the much-needed replacements not arriving until early the next year, if at all. 

The Continental Army lacked supplies of all kinds, especially

clothing- not just winter gear, but any clothing at all! However, Washington had help from Howe, who halted General Cornwallis's 5,000 crack troops at the Delaware. Washington's men had confiscated every civilian boat for miles along the river, forcing Cornwallis to wait for the British pontoon trains before crossing. 

Meanwhile, Howe, believing Washington was defeated, ordered his army into "winter quarters," and he himself hurried back to New York to be with his mistress. Cornwallis's wife was reportedly ill, and he headed to New York to catch a ship to England before winter made crossing impossible. To guard his New Jersey holdings, Howe left brigade-sized garrisons at Princeton, Brunswick, Bordentown, and Trenton.

An Army at rest and an Army formed

General John Sullivan

As soon as he escaped Cornwallis' onslaught, Washington began to think about his next move. Congress abandoned the capital and fled to Baltimore. Congress also offered him near-dictatorial powers, which he refused. Then, the help he had counted on, and had previously dismissed, suddenly arrived. General John Sullivan, returned from British captivity, led the division of General Charles Lee across the Delaware and joined Washington near Yardley, New Jersey. 

Washington then decided to proceed with his plan; he would gamble on a surprise attack against the British garrisons closest to the Delaware: Bordentown and Trenton. Washington's bold gamble required meticulous planning, daring, and a bit of luck. His first stroke of luck was Sullivan's arrival. 

The second was his ability to persuade the troops to extend their enlistments long enough for his plan to succeed. Washington personally met with the men, and his sincerity and apparent dedication to them and the cause swayed just enough. 

The third factor was the weather, and the last was maintaining the element of surprise during a period when not only Loyalists but even discouraged patriots might betray him to the British. Spies were everywhere.

The Crossing

Washington concealed his movements from Loyalist spies and led his army to McGonkey's Ferry on the evening of December 25th. The weather was cold with snow flurries, but the river had not yet frozen over. The crossing began after dark, but one delay followed another, throwing off Washington's schedule. He planned to march about nine miles downstream and surprise the Hessian garrison commanded by Colonel Johan Rall at dawn. The critical element was the guns. Henry Knox assured him he could get all 18 cannons across. However, the snow increased in intensity, and ice floes started to form. With each wave of boats crossing in the darkness, the risk grew. Yet, Colonel John Glover's Marblehead sailors, along with the renowned Gloucester Regiment, outperformed even the heroics of Long Island. A delay in crossing would not mean crossing denial—at least at McGonkey's. Further downriver, two other divisions of Pennsylvanians, under Generals Ewing and Cadwallader, were supposed to cross and take Bordentown, as well as assist at Trenton. But the ice floes thickened to the point where neither division could cross that night. This part of Washington's plan had failed.

The Miracle

Washington's forces did not fully cross until late at night. Then, they began the night march in two columns—one along the river road and the other, which Washington joined, moving further inland. The men, cold, wet, and exhausted, struggled across rugged, rocky, and wooded terrain. With limbs frozen and nearly blind from the elements, the soldiers used patches of white paper to guide them in the dark.

 

All the time, Washington hoped the other columns could cross without being detected and that the Hessians would not be alerted and waiting. His worst fears were confirmed in the first case, but his greatest hopes came true in the second. Arriving well into the early morning light, the Americans were surprised to find the small town still asleep and the weather clearing. The sound of a cannon signaled the two-pronged attack. 

Surprised, the Hessian professionals formed up as best they could to meet the invaders, but within an hour, the battle was over. Rall, the enemy commander, was mortally wounded, and his men soon surrendered. Not a single American died, and only a few were wounded. Washington's gamble succeeded... but his winter campaign was only just beginning.

Continentals rush a Hessian gun to open the battle

Gambling through Defeat and Victory

The Gambler

Apologies to Kenny Rogers, and no, His Excellency did not have a gambling problem. Although, as a landed Virginia planter, he was no stranger to money won and lost at the horse race or whist table. Ever the champion of order and integrity, Washington knew that excessive gambling was problematic. He is quoted on the subject: "Gambling is the child of avarice, the brother of iniquity, and the father of mischief." But during the time of the Yankee Doodle Spies, it was sometimes a necessity, at least on the field of battle.

The Gambler

The North and Early Success

Even as he adopted a risk-averse Fabian strategy for the war, Washington understood that a successful commander must be willing to take calculated risks. Since his army was almost always outnumbered and outgunned, the need to take risks arose frequently. In Boston in 1775, Washington took three significant chances: outfitting ships to challenge the British Navy, dispatching troops to Canada, and sending a small force to capture Fort Ticonderoga and its formidable artillery. 

Guns of Ticonderoga

The Canada campaign failed, and the navy's efforts highlighted the need for a Continental Navy, but Ticonderoga was taken by a surprise attack. This victory gave the Americans control of the largest fortress in the colonies and, more importantly, the heavy guns the Continental Army needed to make the siege of Boston a success.

The Middle Brings Failure

After Boston fell, the British threatened the middle states (or colonies, as you prefer) with an attack on New York. Not yet the largest city in North America, New York was strategically important because of its location and its excellent harbor. Additionally, New York had a larger Loyalist base than New England. Washington hurried his forces south in anticipation of a sea invasion. When the British took Staten Island, Washington risked dividing his forces and deployed about a third of his army on Long Island to stop an expected phased approach to capturing Manhattan. 

The result was a severe defeat, as the vastly outnumbered forces on Long Island only escaped total destruction by taking the risk of a night move through a storm while the enemy was nearby. Two principles of war were abandoned out of desperation. Washington also gambled in the secret war — sending the unready Captain Nathan Hale behind British lines and launching the "wonder weapon" (not) - the submarine Turtle. 

The last gamble in New York was leaving a sizeable force of valuable troops at the fort named Washington on upper Manhattan. This was done to keep a foothold on the island, with the hope of retaking it later. However, the result was the loss of the fort and its troops, who could have been more useful in the upcoming campaign for the Jerseys. 

Americans faced overwhelming British forces at Long Island

The South Brings Triumph

That area would be south (some might say central) Jersey. Most Americans are familiar with Washington crossing the Delaware, and a few know it resulted in a victory at Trenton. But few understand that this unlikely win was one of Washington's biggest gambles. His forces were exhausted and demoralized after a chaotic retreat across the Jerseys. Washington's army abandoned Fort Lee to General Cornwallis and hurriedly moved from Hackensack through Newark, New Brunswick, and Princeton. 

In December, Washington managed to get his small force across the Delaware to safety in Pennsylvania. After a tough year of fighting, with barely fifteen hundred underfed and poorly equipped soldiers and a demoralized nation ready to give up the glorious cause, Washington's situation was dire. Enlistments were ending, supplies were scarce, and a panicked Congress had fled the capital, Philadelphia. To make things worse, the British captured Washington's second-in-command, General Charles Lee, in a daring cavalry raid. Those were the times that tried men's souls, and the whole world thought the end was near.

General Howe

 Nobody would have blamed Washington for taking his small forces into winter quarters and trying to come back in the spring. That's what the British commander was expecting and doing himself. To the alarm of many of his senior officers, General William Howe put his army into winter quarters just when he had Washington beaten. 

Brigade-sized units garrisoned Princeton, Trenton, and Bordentown, while the rest of Howe's army remained in or near the comforts of New York. Luckily, Lee's division made it to Pennsylvania without their commander, giving Washington the boost he needed to try a risky gamble to save the revolution from ending that winter. How he pulled off this gamble will be our next discussion.