The Strange Case of James Molesworth

 

Execution of a Spy

The key rattled in the cell's lock. "It's time, almost noon," said the Sergeant of the Guard. 

The prisoner rose from the musty cot and followed the escort out of the red brick jailhouse building to the town commons, where a large crowd of spectators awaited the condemned. The last fourteen days had been a whirlwind of intrigue, missteps, apprehension, and cross-examination. Now, the condemned man gazed at the simple noose that would, momentarily, squeeze the life from him—for he was a confessed spy.

"Does the prisoner have any last words, Sergeant?" asked the officer in charge.

"No, sir," replied the sergeant.

"I believe my statement to the examiner at my trial amply provides my last words, sir," said the prisoner." I only ask they be made public after my sentence is carried out."

The officer nodded, and a soldier threw a cord noose over his shoulders.

From Cold Winter to Warm Spring

The winter of 1777 was one of savage warfare—a struggle for the necessities of survival for two armies desperate to feed their men. But by March, General William Howe, the British commander in New York, was setting his sights on another try at the American capital in Philadelphia—even as London had dispatched a large Army to strike deep into the colonies from Canada that summer. So, while paying lip service to the British Minister for the Colonies, Lord George Germain's strategy, Howe was plotting a move south and an assault on Philadelphia from the mouth of the Delaware River. But to do this, he needed intelligence—and something more.

General Howe

No Man's Land

While the Americans held Philadephia and General George Washington's Continental Army encamped at Morristown, central Jersey became a no man's land of foraging parties, raiders, thieves, smugglers, and spies. The former colony was flush with Loyalists, as was the area around Philadelphia. Not yet a year old, the cause of liberty was not in every American's heart. There were plenty of high and low-born people who were willing to support the King, especially if there was some coin involved. Both sides had networks for spying and striking out against their enemies. One such network within the new nation's capital was active in helping prepare the way for the return of the British.

The Jerseys were a No Mans Land of Spies and More

Spy Highway

James Molesworth was a member of that spy ring. Born in Staffordshire, England, Molesworth made his way to America and established himself in the New World, eventually as a Clerk in the Office of the Mayor of Philadelphia. Like so many, Molesworth remained Loyal and got involved with their spy network in and around the capital. Molesworth agreed to go to New York and meet with the British authorities. 

Loyalist leader Joseph Galloway

The Loyalists had a sort of "Underground Railroad" to make their way past American patrols and sentries into the occupied City of New York. Molesworth traveled into the Jerseys with an accomplice named John Caton, who went by the alias of Warren. Warren took him to Bullions Tavern, where they met another accomplice named Smith, who guided them to Milestone Bridge. From there, the two slipped past rebel pickets and entered British lines. Molesworth met with Pennsylvania Loyalist leader Joseph Galloway, who recommended him to General Howe, who gave Molesworth a lieutenant's commission. Howe needed his services back in The City of Brotherly Love.

The Mission

Howe was planning a sea-borne attack on Philadelphia by sailing up the mouth of the Delaware River. He knew from spies and other informants that the Americans had several forts positioned there and had embedded Cheveaux de Frise-like traps along the riverbed. These were rows of long spikes with points hidden below the water level that could rip open the hulls of British warships. 

Chevaux de Frise could tear open a ship's hull

The British instructed Molesworth to recruit sympathetic Delaware pilots to exfiltrate them north to New York and guide the British fleet around the traps. Howe also questioned him about the forts and the armed galleys used by the Americans. Although the British provided him with no cash, he was told to spare no expense in finding a couple of pilots. He was also to arrange for sabotage and other mayhem in preparation for the British attack.

Philadelphia Ring

On his return, Molesworth approached several  Loyalist sympathizers—clearly, they had a network well in place. He met a Mr. Sheppard and a Joseph Thomas. He connected with his other accomplices—a Clerk in General Mifflins's Office named Collins, a Clerk in the City Vendue Office named Keating, and a Livery Stable owner named Sheppard. At least two women were involved as well—a Mrs. Abigail McCay and a Mrs. Sarah O'Brien. The latter two had been actively feeling out (they used the word "tampering") Delaware pilots for a special mission and had a few they thought might agree to the enterprise. One, named John Eldridge, refused to go. However, another,  Andrew Higgins, agreed and was able to bring another, named John Snyder, into the plot.

City of Brotherly Love, or Nest of Spies?

Clandestine Meetings

Mrs.McCay was Molesworth's intermediary with Mrs. O'Brien, and it was at her boarding house that Molesworth finally met with "agreeable" pilots at seven in the evening. Although promised great rewards for their service, Molesworth could only offer fifty pounds, which he had gotten from Sheppard. Molesworth schemed to get horses from Sheppard's Livery and ride north. 

Women supported Molesworth's efforts

Sheppard, the livery owner, approached a farrier named Fox for a horse, but none was to be had that night, and it was decided that looking for a third horse at that hour might draw suspicion. Molesworth, instead, would travel the next day. But there was no next day's travel. Someone blew the whistle. For want of a horse...

Court Martial and Sentencing

Molesworth was arrested and faced a trial by court martial presided over by General Horatio Gates. Witnesses were questioned from 25 through 28 March. Molesworth gave his own testimony on the 27th. The court martial convicted the spy on the 29th, and after  Congress confirmed the sentence, Molesworth was hanged in the Philadelphia Commons on 31 March 1777.

General Horatio Gates

Justice for All?

But what of the others? Collins, Keating, and Sheppard escaped to British-held territory, eluding the pursuit by provosts under a captain named Proctor. According to General George Washington's report, it was the pilots who turned Molesworth in. But who? Eldridge? Higgins? Snyder? Or some combination? My take is Eldridge, with the other two plus two ladies providing testimony in exchange for leniency. For his part, Sheppard made his way to New  York, where he served as a pilot for the eventual British move on Philadelphia in the fall of 1777. For his services, Sheppard received the lucrative post of Deputy Commissioner of Forage during the British occupation.

British occupy Philadelphia September 1777

Justice for No One?

Years later, the infamous General James Wilkinson commented on the case in his memoirs. He alleges there had been no legal basis for a military court martial, and the political pressure on Gates for a swift outcome led to a conviction with a unanimous verdict. A conviction Gates and Congress swiftly approved. Wilkinson claimed to have met with him in his cell, offering mercy if he would give up his accomplices—Molesworth refused. 

James Wilkinson

No Peace for the Dead

Molesworth remained controversial, even in death. His body was relegated to a potter field—a burial ground for the indigent. Local Loyalists seethed (secretly) at the affront. When the British occupied Philadelphia later in the year, a group of Quakers had him exhumed and interred in a Quaker cemetery. Now, the local patriots seethed (secretly). When the Americans re-occupied Philadelphia in 1778, you guessed it, Molesworth's now rather tired corpse was once more exhumed and reinterred in the potter field.

Quaker Meeting House

Culper Prelude?

The British network in the heart of the capital sent a visceral chill through the Americans in the City, the Continental Army, and Congress. Had it remained undetected, it could have proven a more effective network than the celebrated Culper Ring in New York. Perhaps that explains the quick justice and burial. It might also have shaped General George Washington's thinking on espionage and the need for ultra-tight security and compartmentalization, as intelligence and espionage played an increasingly important tool in the struggle ahead.

George Washington as Spymaster

Matriarch of Spies

It's time to revisit two topics I haven't discussed in a while: women in the American War for Independence and espionage. Our subject today addresses both themes and was briefly mentioned in a previous Yankee Doodle Spies post. This female patriot supported George Washington’s efforts in a very unusual way—by letting the British quarter troops in her home. She is also notable because she was a Quaker, even though her actions eventually led to her being expelled from the pacifist Society of Friends.

Immigrant Patriot

Like many of our early patriots, Lydia Barrington was born in Ireland, Ireland, in 1729. At age 24, she met and married William Darragh, the tutor son of a clergyman. Soon after, the couple emigrated and settled in Philadelphia, where they became respected members of the local Quaker community. Although she was somewhat petite and frail, Lydia became a midwife, and like many women of her time, she did sewing on the side. Lydia and her husband enjoyed a prosperous and comfortable life in Philadelphia, as reflected in their large family of nine children (five of whom survived childbirth). The reliable Quaker, Darragh, grew alarmed when one of his sons decided to leave the Friends and join the Continental Army, holding a commission as a lieutenant in the Second Pennsylvania Line. The Society shunned any member who took an active role on either side, especially a military one.

Philadelphia in the 1700s

An Occupied City

Like many Americans, life changed when the war arrived in Philadelphia. In October 1777, the British army under General William Howe took over the former American capital. By chance, Lord Howe set up his headquarters in the home of patriot rebel leader John Cadwalader, just across the street from the Darragh residence at 177 South Second Street. At some point, Howe requested use of the Darragh parlor for staff councils and private meetings. Most war plans during that time were made by “councils of war,” so this was a significant matter. And a great opportunity.

Darragh's House

Making of a Spy

Who recruited Lydia for espionage and why is it uncertain? What motivated her—her son’s military service, concealed patriotism, or anger at the British occupation? Whether she volunteered or was recruited, she clearly became part of an established network. Although lacking formal education, Lydia possessed a brilliant mind, was incisive politically, and perceptive of her surroundings. She also had a remarkable memory. Perhaps her most valuable trait, especially for her role in serving her country, was her unassuming demeanor—the ability to blend in and hide.

Lydia's family operated at the center of
British-occupied Philadelphia

Family of Spies

During the occupation, Lydia’s nursing activities allowed her to move freely through British lines. Soon, her growing family was involved in supporting the cause by gathering intelligence from the heart of the British high command in North America. During the winter of 1777–1778, the occupation of the rebel capital gave the impression of British dominance and the inevitable downfall of the rebellion. After all, Washington’s struggling army was trapped on the frozen plains of Valley Forge. 

While the British enjoyed plenty of resources, the rebel army was deteriorating due to shortages of food, clothing, medicine, and other supplies. The British lowered their guard, holding meetings with the modest nurse in the background. Of course, they knew that the Darraghs, as practicing Quakers, could not support either side in the war or take part in anything related to it. Lydia was able to overhear most of the meetings and conversations in her parlor, then quickly relayed what she heard to her husband William, who carefully recorded the information in special shorthand on small strips of paper. 

Her seamstress skills played a vital role in her espionage efforts. Lydia would sew the thin paper strips into buttons on her 14-year-old son John’s coat. Once done, she sent John as a courier. He would slip through the British lines and meet up with his older brother Charles, who was with Washington’s army. Charles understood the shorthand, transcribed the messages, and transformed them into valuable intelligence.

Lydia Darragh: Nurse, Seamstress, Spy

Secret Mission

But the spy ring’s MO and tradecraft did not play a part in what is considered Lydia Darragh’s boldest achievement. On December 2, Lydia and her family were suddenly ordered to their rooms during an important meeting. An emergency war council took place. This was before the Continental Army had settled in Valley Forge. Washington was still near the capital, hoping to find an opportunity to act before both sides settled into “winter quarters." 

Undeterred, and perhaps spurred by the British’s urgency, Lydia put her ear to a keyhole and listened in as General Howe gave detailed instructions to his commanders. She overheard the British commander-in-chief give orders for a multi-column move against General Washington. The plan was for December 4. The strike was meant to catch the rebels off guard, scatter their army, and maybe even capture Washington in the process.

General Howe's secret plans to surprise and destroy
The Continental Army would spur a bold gambit

She would not leave this critical mission to her young son. Instead, she devised a quick “cover for action” and slipped out of town on December 3rd with sacks, hoping to refill them with flour at a mill near Frankford, located between the opposing army lines. The risk was high, as patrols from both sides roamed the area. It was a 13-mile trek in winter. Undeterred, she went to Pearson’s Mill and left the empty sacks for the owner to fill. She planned to pick them up on her way back. With her cover now in place, Lydia continued her true mission: to deliver the British plans to the American forces.

Clandestine Meeting

There are two versions of what happened next. In one, she encounters a friend, Colonel Thomas Craig, along the road. She tells him what she has learned, and he gallops off to report to Washington. Lydia then secures her flour and makes her way home. In the other version, Lydia heads to a tavern called The Rising Sun. There, she meets with Colonel Elias Boudinot, Commissary-General of Prisoners, who also acts as an intelligence officer. 

Allegedly, Lydia walks into the pub, hands him an old, tattered needlebook, and leaves. When he searches the book, Boudinot finds a roll of paper in one of the pockets. The paper indicates that General Howe will attack Whitemarsh the next morning with 5,000 men, 13 cannons, and 11 boats on wheels. Boudinot mounts his horse and gallops to Washington’s headquarters. He gives her report to Washington but keeps Lydia’s cover safe by naming “captured prisoners” as his source. 

This highlights the crucial role Lydia and the Darragh family played in gathering intelligence from Philadelphia. The fact that Lydia knew Boudinot might be at the tavern shows how sophisticated the spy ring was. I prefer the latter version.

Darragh at The Rising Sun

An Army Saved

Lydia's intelligence, a form of indications and warning (I&W), helped Washington prepare the Continental Army, which repelled General Howe’s “surprise” attack at White Marsh. The multi-day battle saved the army and the cause, allowing it to eventually settle at Valley Forge. The British returned to Philadelphia in disgust.

The series of skirmishes at White Marsh
ended the 1777 campaign with a modest
American victory

A Critical Source

Upon her return, Darragh was questioned by the British, who suspected treachery. She managed to disarm them and convince them she was unaware of their plans. However, Lydia and her family continued to gather information from the heart of the British high command throughout the winter. 

As Washington trained the army at Valley Forge, reports from the capital were critical as he prepared for the spring campaign he knew was coming. So the commander in chief was not caught off guard when Howe was relieved of command in the spring, and the British Army left Philadelphia on June 18, 1778. The departure of the British ended the need for the spy ring, and Lydia and her family’s service faded into the shadows like many effective clandestine operations.

Darragh's espionage continued into 1778

Banned by The Friends

In June 1783, William Darragh died. The Society of Friends was not so welcoming when rumors about the Darragh family’s involvement began to spread. The Friends expelled Lydia later that year. Her oldest son, John, had already been expelled in 1781. 

In 1786, Lydia moved from South Second Street into a new house and, along with her children, operated a store there until her death in 1789. She was buried with other family members in a Quaker cemetery not far from where she spent her post-war years.

Lydia returned to a "normal" life after
the war, but lost her standing with  her "Friends"

Shadow Heroes

Like many espionage and covert actions during the American Revolution, Lydia Darragh's story was scrutinized. Darragh’s daughter, Ann, published her mother’s spy activities in 1827. However, many doubted the story and questioned its truthfulness. 

Suspicion eased in 1909 when Elias Boudinot’s memoirs were released, confirming Darragh’s involvement. He described a woman matching Darragh’s profile, though he, for obvious reasons, did not name her. 

General Washington often expressed frustration over the inability to reveal and properly thank all those early patriots who participated in the shadow war, as they couldn’t receive recognition or rewards for their sacrifices. I, for one, believe Lydia Darragh and her family are among those shadow heroes.

Elias Boudinot's memoirs shed light
on Lydia Darragh's wartime espionage

Fort Mifflin

A War of Posts

Over eight years of struggle, the American Revolutionary War shifted from guerrilla warfare to limited battles, and sometimes to maneuver warfare. However, the demands of 18th-century fighting across a vast area filled with rough terrain, dense forests, and uncooperative rivers made it almost always a war of posts. A war of posts is similar to a chess match, with carefully placed defensive positions designed to protect supply lines, stop an enemy advance, and control vital regions. 

Think of the game, Risk, but with real people, sweat, and effort, not small wooden or plastic pieces. The fight for North America included several key battles featuring fixed fortifications. In many ways, these defined the war: West Point and Ticonderoga immediately come to mind. But many battles also involved temporary or hastily constructed forts. These were just as important. Fort Moultrie, Stony Point, and Yorktown serve as notable examples.

Fort Ticonderoga

The Siege

The war featured several key sieges. Most were short-lived, with one side surrendering or the other breaking off the siege due to outside factors like weather, supplies, or reinforcements. Fort Stanwix, Savannah, Charleston, and Newport are examples. Even a brief defense of a position could buy crucial time for a commander to gather forces, regroup, maneuver for advantage, or simply escape. 

That’s why, when a commander faced a long siege or was forced to storm a position, they often treated the defenders and any civilians left behind harshly. Ironically, when the British treated defenders roughly, it fueled rebel propaganda, which played a significant role in the conflict. Not only was the American public watching closely, but the whole world was paying attention. That’s a topic for another post, however.

Fort Stanwix

Fort Mifflin

Arguably, the longest active defense of a post under siege in the war was also one of the least celebrated. We will try to shift the focus toward celebration. Fort Mifflin is located on the Delaware River, in what is now South Philadelphia, at a place called Mud Island. Construction on the fort began in 1772 to block access to the city. 

Ironically, the original construction was overseen by the famous British engineer Captain John Montressor. The fort was completed in 1777 under the leadership of American Major General Thomas Mifflin, for whom it is named. It protected a series of water barriers that stretched across the river to its sister fort, Fort Mercer, in New Jersey.

Maj Gen Thomas Mifflin
finished construction of the fort that bears his name

Most Formidable Defenses

A fort guarding a sea approach needed more than just strong walls and good firing positions. So, Philadelphia built a series of chevaux de frise, placed in "tiers" beneath the waters of the Delaware between Forts Mercer and Mifflin. They were constructed within wooden-framed boxes, 30 feet square, made from massive timbers lined with pine boards. The engineers sunk these frames into the riverbed. 

Each box was filled with 20 to 40 tons of stone to keep it in place. Each frame had two or three large timbers tipped with iron spikes set underwater and angled downstream. These chevaux created a tough obstacle that could trap unwary ships. The chain of chevaux had gaps so friendly shipping could pass through. The locations of these safe passages were tightly kept secret. Any British ship not caught on the spikes or caught in the chain still faced fire from the forts themselves.

Sketch of chevaux crates filled
with stones

A Strategic Position

The British captured Philadelphia in September 1777 through an overland campaign that avoided the fortified Delaware approach. However, the British commander in chief, General William Howe, now faced the urgency of establishing a communication line to the sea. He needed the protection of the Royal Navy and an open supply route, or his position in Philadelphia could become a liability. 

The British commander recognized that their control of the sea was an invaluable advantage over the Americans, which had to be leveraged to the fullest. Howe's brother, Admiral Richard "Black Dick" Howe, commander of the Royal Navy in America, had already started weakening American defenses downriver. But brother Billy couldn't wait for their arrival; he needed to advance overland against Fort Mifflin and hold the navy at Fort Mercer on the Jersey side.

Control of the lower Delaware River and bay
was crucial to British success

Doughty Defenders

Samuel Smith

But the American commander in chief, General George Washington, also recognized the importance of the Delaware. After being driven from near the capital following his defeat at Germantown, Washington prepared for a lengthy series of operations aimed at disrupting British efforts to strengthen their control over Philadelphia. 

On September 23, Washington sent Lieutenant Colonel Samuel Smith of the 4th Maryland Regiment with a detachment of Continentals to the fort on Mud Island in the Delaware River. 

Readers may recall I featured this first patriot in an earlier Yankee Doodle Spies post. Smith's initial force numbered 200 soldiers, along with Major Robert Ballard of Virginia, Major Simeon Thayer of Rhode Island, and Captain Samuel Treat of the Continental Artillery. Determined to hinder British plans at any cost, the Continentals began preparing defenses and calling in more troops. 

Eventually, they would have 400 men, which was far from enough to properly garrison a fort of Mifflin's size. This problem was similar to issues faced by other forces trying to hold forts Ticonderoga and Washington. Still, Smith and his men chose to make the best of the fort.

Fort Mifflin plans

The British Approach

John Montressor

General Howe ordered a move against nearby Providence Island on October 10, 1777. Washington's land forces resisted but were quickly driven off, and soon heavy siege guns were positioned to face the American fort. Despite its strength, Fort Mifflin had not been heavily fortified against a threat from Philadelphia. 

Ironically, Captain John Montresor, who had designed and built Fort Mifflin, planned and constructed the siege works used against his own fort. The situation was certainly against the rebels. Soon, heavy cannonballs started crashing into the American positions. The intense pounding on that side of the fort was horrific, but the Americans fought valiantly, inflicting heavy damage on several British ships attempting to bypass upriver. 

The British mounted guns on floats, creating water batteries that moved closer to the besieged outpost. American casualties increased, and supplies dwindled during the month of relentless bombardment and hardship.

The Royal Navy Engages

"Black Dick" Howe -
so named for a swarthy complexion

But Billie Howe's brother, "Black Dick," would have the final say. He finally managed to unleash the Royal Navy. On November 10, a floating battery with twenty-two heavy 24-pound guns came within 40 yards of the fort. 

At close range, the British gunners could do as much damage as they wanted. This ended up being the heaviest bombardment of the Revolutionary War. Shot and shell shattered walls and buildings. The defenders suffered severe injuries, with limbs torn away or crushed. 

The battle was leaning towards the besiegers, but Smith and the defenders were determined to hold the fort. Cold weather was arriving early, and if they could hold until the Delaware froze, the British supply line might be cut, forcing Howe's army to abandon the recently captured capital. 

On the British side, news of Major General John Burgoyne's army’s disastrous surrender at Saratoga increased pressure on both Howe brothers. A victory over the stubborn defenders could help boost the sagging morale. The stakes were high for both sides!

The Pennsylvania Navy (yes, they had a navy) came to the aid of the forts guarding the Delaware approaches. Commodore John Hazelwood, with a sizable fleet of galleys, sloops, and fire-vessels, launched several raids on British positions onshore and constantly harassed British river operations while patrolling the waters around the fort. But British naval strength eventually prevailed. Rebel resistance persisted. Cold, ill, and starving, the garrison, reduced to much less than 200 of the original 400-450 men, refused to surrender. 

Under the leadership of French Major Francois de Fleury, an engineer of remarkable energy, the Americans worked each night to repair the damage from the day’s combat. Fleury himself was wounded in the battle. A British ship of the line and sloop-of-war both ran aground under heavy fire from Mifflin's defenders. However, British naval superiority virtually guaranteed an unfavorable outcome. Behind the cover of the intense fire from the big guns of the floating battery, the British naval vessels closed in, and soon British marines were sniping at the fort from high in the rigging. With nearly all their guns knocked out, the Americans were running out of options - but not out of spirit.

Fort Mifflin, aka Mudd Island
was the key to the Delaware

The Final British Assault

Clear weather on November 15 gave the British a chance to deliver a final burst of heat. They sent two ships, Vigilant and Fury, armed with nineteen guns, along the backchannel west of Fort Mifflin. At the same time, three large ships with 158 cannons anchored directly off the fort, in the main channel of the Delaware. To the east, three more vessels with about 51 guns guarded Mifflin from all sides. A trap of smoke, fire, and iron.

The Royal Navy had to commit
massive resources to subdue the fort

To oppose this British juggernaut, the defenders of Fort Mifflin had only ten cannons remaining. Soon, hundreds of cannonballs began pummeling what was left of the fort. The large-caliber 18- and 24-pound balls tore through the defenders in another burst of smoke and fire. During the peak of the bombardment, about 1000 shots were fired into the fort. 

To worsen the defenders' plight, British Marines climbed to the crow’s nest of Vigilant and tossed grenades at the fort's defenders. The defenders fought bravely but suffered for it as casualties increased. They returned fire until all their guns were silenced by the heavier British shot. Lieutenant Colonel Smith was seriously wounded and had to be evacuated. The end was near.

The End

Nightfall found the surviving defenders exhausted, cold, and out of ammunition. But not out of options. The new commander of the fort, Major Simeon Thayer, decided to evacuate the now indefensible Mifflin under the cover of darkness. The garrison rowed their way with muffled oars to Fort Mercer. Forty men volunteered to stay behind and set fire to what was left. 

Their work done, around midnight, they also crossed the Delaware to the safety of New Jersey. But Thayer decided on one last act of resistance. So as the last of Mifflin's valiant defenders rowed to safety, they would see it ablaze - but they would see the flag still flying in a final gesture of defiance.

The unusual-looking flag that flew over Fort Mifflin during
the long siege, and in a final act of defiance

The Result

During the siege, about 400 American soldiers held off more than two thousand British troops and 250 ships. The Americans suffered over 250 killed and wounded and lost the fort. However, the time and resources spent by the Howe brothers to capture the fort and control the Delaware allowed Washington to move his army to White Marsh and ultimately reach the safety of winter quarters at Valley Forge, where a new American army was formed.

A new American army would emerge from
the hard winter at Valley Forge

Aftermath

Fort Mifflin was rebuilt after the war and served as a U.S. base for many years, providing one of the strategic harbor defenses for Philadelphia. Later, it became a historic site. Today, only the white stone walls of the original Fort Mifflin remain. The pockmarks in these walls testify to the intensity of the British bombardment in 1777. Local residents refer to this siege and bombardment as the Battle of Mud Island. However, this once-critical fort in the defense of the Delaware and Philadelphia never saw military use again.

Cold and Stalemate at Whitemarsh

This week marked the anniversary of Whitemarsh: the final part of the third year of the American fight for independence. For several cold winter days, rebels and redcoats marched and counter-marched as General George Washington aimed to lure British General Howe into an end-of-year disaster.

Background

General William Howe

General William Howe's Philadelphia campaign of 1777 was one of move, lose, move, lose for George Washington and the Continental Army. Despite that, Howe and the British high command remained frustrated because the rebel army and its general continued to remain a force they would need to reckon with if winter quarters were to be enjoyed in peace and comfort. 

Despite his failed surprise attack on Germantown on 4 October, Washington remained unbeaten. He maneuvered his forces from post to post, ultimately settling in at a place called Whitemarsh, about 13 miles northwest of Philadelphia. Both Howe and Washington knew that an unbeaten American force in the field remained a psychological as well as a real threat to British success. 

So in early December, Howe decided to make one last attempt to destroy Washington's army before the onset of winter and began preparations for the attack on the rebel forces rumored to be in the process of moving to a new camp. But Washington's intelligence network, led by Major John Clark, became aware of British plans to surprise the Americans, possibly through a Quaker housewife, Lydia Darragh. Because of the timely, accurate intelligence, regardless of the source, the Continental Army was ready.

Lydia Darragh was a Phila. nurse
and the housewife said to have warned
Washington of British plans

Ready for Action

Undaunted by weeks of retreat, Washington and his men prepared for battle. Washington faced pressure from Congress due to defeats at Brandywine and Germantown and aimed to make amends before the campaign ended. He always pictured a Breed's Hill-style fight where his troops would break British lines with heavy fire from fortified positions. For their part, his men were eager for a chance to vent their frustrations on the 'lobsters.' 

The Americans had ample time to strengthen their defenses, so despite being cold, exhausted, and hungry, they were ready to act and seek retribution. Washington positioned them on high ground—another Breed's Hill scenario seemed possible. Meanwhile, Howe planned to give the rebels the fight they craved. The British hoped for a swift, decisive victory over the struggling rebels before winter arrived, as he too faced troubles of his own.

And Vindication

A British Army capitulated at Saratoga in October—an army many believed Howe was obliged to help. Defeating Washington would be a sweet victory. Both Howe and Washington were overshadowed by the recent devastating British surrender at Saratoga. Howe for not doing more to support Gen. John Burgoyne, the defeated British commander, during the ill-fated invasion from Canada. Washington himself was criticized by some in Congress and the Army who questioned his leadership.

British surrender at Saratoga had
both Washington and Howe in its shadow

The Action

The British and Hessians left Philadelphia at midnight on a bitterly cold December 4th, with 14,000 troops. Howe moved his men in two columns. One, led by Lord Cornwallis, headed up Germantown Pike. The second, commanded by Hessian General Knyphausen, marched toward the American left. Just before dawn on December 5th, they arrived at Chestnut Hill, where they encountered about 15,000 Americans ready for action. 

Attempting to provoke a fight, Washington sent the Pennsylvania militia toward Howe's left. The militia was repelled after a short but intense fight. This led to days of maneuvering by Howe's forces, who attempted to find an opening in Washington's defenses through various feints and marches. The Continentals and militia responded well. Washington's men were prepared and managed to prevent any potential breakthrough. 

Frustrated, the British burned homes and farms, fueling resistance among a populace that was almost subdued by the British advance. Howe launched a final effort to turn the American left flank on December 7th. He advanced forces along Edge Hill, a ridge running parallel to the American lines. But the Americans, including militia and Virginia riflemen under Dan Morgan, responded. After intense fighting, the Americans were again pushed back, but the British retreated. 

This started a long day of small, sharp, yet inconclusive skirmishes throughout the wooded ridge, with no clear outcome. Frustrated at neither breaching the American defenses nor luring them into an open battle, Howe decided to withdraw. He led his army back to Philadelphia. Washington also felt frustrated, as his hope of luring Howe into a second Breed's Hill never materialized. The casualties for Whitemarsh were 90 Americans killed or wounded, and 60 British killed or wounded.

Howe at Whitemarsh

A Winter of Stalemate

Whitemarsh marked the end of the long and eventful campaigns of 1777. Howe and his army are secure in comfortable winter quarters in Philadelphia. A few days later, on December 11, Washington leads his army into the cold comfort of winter quarters at Valley Forge. The uneventful battle at Whitemarsh is unremarkable on its face. But in retrospect, the inconclusive series of skirmishes set the stage for the famous winter at Valley Forge that marked the birth of a professional American Army. As for Sir William Howe, his request for relief was approved, and he would leave the Army the following spring.

Stalemate at Whitemarsh was the last action
before George Washington led his army to
a place called Valley Forge

The Nicola Affair

One of the little-known but crucial events of the American War for Independence happened as the conflict seemed to be coming to an end. This post discusses the man who would fight a king but also make a king - Louis Nicola.

Early Life - Soldier and Civil Servant of the King

Lewis Nicola was born in Dublin, Ireland, in 1717, as the son of a British army officer and the grandson of Huguenot refugees. Although little is known about his upbringing, Nicola’s family apparently gave him a solid secondary education. Like many Irish, he joined the British army and spent nearly thirty years fighting for his king. His family purchased him a commission as an ensign in the British army in January 1740. He married his first wife, Christiana Doyle, on September 19 of that year. During the early 1740s, Nicola was stationed in various Irish cities, including Galway, MannorHamilton, Londonderry, Dublin, and Cork. After a brief tour of duty in Flanders during the intense fighting in the spring and summer of 1745, Nicola returned to Ireland, joining the garrison at Charles Fort near Kinsale, and eventually earning a promotion to the rank of fort major in early September 1755. For the twenty-one years following his return to Ireland in 1745, Kinsale was his home. He became involved in civic service and developed an interest in scientific inquiry. Nicola married his second wife, Jane Bishop, on April 18, 1760, eight months after the death of Christiana Nicola.

Nicola served in Flanders in 1745 

An Immigrant to the New World

When he did not receive a expected inheritance, Nicola moved to America in 1766, settling in Philadelphia and opening a dry goods store on Second Street. Not content to be just a shopkeeper, Nicola became a prominent figure in the growing world of publishing. In 1767, he established a library, and by December 1769, he moved it to Spruce Street in the more fashionable Society Hill. He renamed his establishment the “General Circulating Library.” A believer in the broad enlightenment of the people, Nicola continued to publish several magazines focused on scientific information and inquiry. Nicola also helped establish the American Philosophical Society in 1769 and became the publisher of its annual report, Transactions.

 

Nicola temporarily relocated his family to Easton, where he also held public roles, and in 1774, he was appointed Justice of the Peace in Northampton County (essentially the county judge). As tensions with Great Britain increased and conflict appeared unavoidable, he returned to Philadelphia and resumed his focus on military affairs. Leveraging his experience in the British Army, he published A Treatise of Military Exerciser, Calculated for the Use of the Americans, in 1776, which was a very timely publication. This work, created at the request of the colonels of the five battalions of Pennsylvania militia from Philadelphia, aimed to include “every Thing that is supposed can be of Use to” the colonists and exclude “such Manoevres, as are only for Shew and Parade.”

Nicola's Invalid Corps garrisoned Trenton

Nicola was fluent in French and translated several French military texts. In 1776, Nicola was appointed Barracks Master of Philadelphia and commander of the city guards. During the British occupation of Philadelphia, Nicola published a map for use if the Americans moved against his adopted town. His experience leading old men and boys as commander in Philadelphia led him to ask Congress to consider an idea he had for better garrisoning—using wounded veterans. 

On June 20, 1777, the Continental Congress, recognizing the validity of Nicola’s arguments, established an Invalid Corps consisting of eight companies and nearly one thousand men, “to be employed in garrisons, and for guards in cities and other places, where magazines or arsenals, or hospitals are placed; as also to serve as a military school for young gentlemen, prior to their being appointed to marching and other military arts." Essentially, this marked the beginning of a rudimentary military academy. 

Nicola was appointed Colonel in the Continental Army and commander of the Invalid Corps. Nicola and the Invalid Corps performed many valuable services during the American Revolution. For most of the war, the corps was stationed in Philadelphia. When General William Howe’s British army advanced toward the American capital in the fall of 1777, Nicola moved his family and the Invalid Corps elsewhere. They relocated to Bristol, then Fort Mifflin, and finally to Trenton. Nicola planned several operations against British outposts, but once both sides settled into winter quarters, the corps was redeployed to Easton and Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, to guard hospitals and military stores in those towns. 

Like the rest of the Continental Army, the Invalid Corps faced great hardships during the winter of 1777–78. After a brief stay at Valley Forge in spring 1778, the Invalid Corps returned to Philadelphia on June 19, just after the British withdrew from the city. Over the next three years, the corps was mainly stationed in Philadelphia, with a period in Boston. Besides garrison duties, Nicola directed the corps to interrogate prisoners and deserters and sent intelligence reports to Washington. The intellectually active Nicola also proposed several schemes to Congress, including forming a partisan force, implementing new army regulations, and using the Invalids in recruiting.

The Invalid Corps garrisoned Fort Mifflin

The Nicola Letter

On June 13, 1781, in response to Washington’s request of May 27, Congress authorized the concentration of the corps at West Point, New York. The Invalids spent much of their time at West Point's outposts, such as Fishkill. Nicola faced many challenges regarding pay and feeding his men. He successfully defended himself against a court-martial based on charges from a discontented captain. The poor quality of the invalids and a shortage of officers and men only worsened his situation. He had to deal with numerous cases of misconduct.

Nicola himself faced financial difficulties throughout the war and, like many other officers, was unhappy with Congress's treatment of officers and men concerning supply, rations, and pay. Widespread disgruntlement simmered even as the new nation approached independence. With all of his experiences—both good and bad—since joining the Continental Army, Nicola, ever a man of letters and ideas, wrote a letter to Washington on May 22, 1782, from Fishkill, New York, outlining his grievances over the army’s poor treatment by Congress.

Nicola wrote:

                    "...From several conversations, I have had with officers, & some I have

                    overheard among soldiers, I believe it is generally intended not to separate

                    after the peace ’till all grievances are redressed, engagements &

                    promises fulfilled . . . God forbid we should ever think of involving

                    that country we have, under your conduct & auspices, rescued from

                    oppression, into a new scene of blood & confusion; but it cannot be

                    expected we should forego claims on which our future subsistence &

                    that of our families depend." 

Washington was well aware of all this, but Nicola's second theme stunned and angered him. Nicola stated bluntly that, unlike many of his American contemporaries, he was not a “violent admirer of a republican form of government.” He then discussed the histories of earlier republics like Venice, Genoa, and Holland, explaining why “their lustre” had “been of short duration.” This, in Nicola’s view, also applied to the United States. None of these had been able to govern themselves effectively. Regarding the Continental Congress, Nicola asked, “has it not evidently appeared that during the course of this war we have never been able to draw forth all the internal resources we are possessed of, and oppose or attack the enemy with our real vigour?”

Mount Guillian - near Fishkill

Nicola went on to argue for a limited constitutional monarchy similar to Britain's. That caused a strong reaction from Washington. The tone of Washington's reply to Nicola that same day shows he not only disapproved of Nicola’s “scheme” but was also deeply offended by it. 

After expressing his “great surprise & astonishment,” Washington wrote that “no occurrence in the course of the war, has given me more painful sensations than your information of there being such ideas existing in the Army as you have expressed.” Furthermore, Washington was “at a loss to conceive what part of my conduct could have given encouragement to an address which to me seems big with

the greatest mischiefs that can befall my Country. If I am not deceived in the knowledge of myself,” Washington continued, “you could not have found a person to whom your schemes are more disagreeable.”

The Continental Army encampments around West Point - 1782

While he admitted to the problems facing the army and promised to do everything in his power “in a constitutional way” to address them, Washington urged Nicola that if he had “any regard for your Country, concern for yourself or posterity—or respect for me, to banish these thoughts from your Mind & never communicate, as from yourself, or anyone else, a sentiment of the like nature.”

Finally, as an obvious but rarely used safety precaution, Washington had two of his aides-de-camp, David Humphreys and Jonathan Trumbull, attest that the copy of the letter he kept for his files was an exact duplicate of the one he had sent to Nicola. Nicola was hurt by the rebuff and immediately apologized at great length, writing that he was “extremely unhappy that the liberty I have taken should be so highly disagreeable to your Excellency . . . nothing has ever affected me so much as your reproof.”

Several letters followed as Nicola tried to justify his actions. No written response from Washington ever arrived, or if it did, no record exists.

Apres l' Affaire

And curiously, Nicola's relationship with the commander in chief remained as it was before the letters. He continued to command the Invalid Corps and played the normal role of a Continental officer. Washington never shunned or further censured him. In fact, Washington supported Nicola's objections when Congress moved to disband the Invalid Corps in the spring of 1783. Nicola returned to Philadelphia and provided administrative service through the end of the war, retiring as a Brevetted Brigadier General. After the war, he held a position as manager of the city's workhouse and became active in the Society of the Cincinnati.

Nicola remained involved in military affairs as the inspector of the city's militia through the 1790s, when he retired and moved to Alexandria, Virginia, where he died in 1807. Although Nicola's proposal to Washington was controversial, it should not overshadow a life of distinguished service in both peace and war. Many desired a monarch, and many believed that monarch should be George Washington.

Nicola's letters and the responses (and lack thereof) ironically strengthened the case for Washington as one of the few men in history to reject a chance at monarchy—a move that led none other than George the Third to call him the man of the century. We prefer to call him the essential man. In a way, Washington and the new nation may owe a debt to Nicola for his "modest proposal." Instead of a king, the Nicola Affair helped to reinforce George Washington's commitment to a government of men, not monarchs.

Washington's response to Nicola sealed his reputation as
the indispensable man of the republic