It was half past eleven o'clock at night when the Americans commenced their silent march toward the fort. All the dogs in the neighborhood had been killed the day before, that their barking might not give notice of strangers near. The negro, with two strong men disguised as farmers, advanced alone.
The countersign was given to the first sentinel, on the high ground west of the morass, and while he was conversing with Pompey, the men seized and gagged him. The silence of the sentinel at the causeway was secured in the same manner, and as soon as the tide ebbed sufficiently, the whole of Wayne's little army, except a detachment of three hundred men under General Muhlenburg, who remained in the rear as a reserve, crossed the morass to the foot of the western declivity of the promontory, unobserved by the enemy. The troops were now divided into two columns; the van of the right, consisting of one hundred and fifty volunteers, under Lieutenant-colonel De Fleury, and that of the left, of one hundred volunteers, under Major Stewart, each with unloaded muskets and fixed bayonets. An avant-guard of twenty picked men for each company, under Lieutenants Gibbon and Knox, preceded them, to remove the abatis and other obstructions. These vans composed the forlorn hope on that memorable night.
At a little past midnight the advanced parties moved silently to the charge, one company on the southern, and the other toward the northern portion of the height. They were followed by the two main divisions; the right, composed of the regiments of Febiger and Meigs, being led by General Wayne in person. The left was composed of Colonel Butler's regiment, and two companies under Major Murfey. The Americans were undiscovered until within pistol shot of the pickets upon the heights, when a skirmish ensued between the sentinels and the advanced guards. The pickets fired several shots, but the Americans, true to orders, relied entirely upon the bayonet, and pressed forward with vigor. The garrison was aroused from their slumbers, and instantly the deep silence of the night was broken by the roll of the drum, the loud cry To arms! to arms! the rattle of musketry from the ramparts and behind the abatis, and the roar of cannon, charged with the deadly grape-shot, from the embrasures. ** In the face of this terrible storm, the Americans forced their way, at
* This view shows a large portion of the morass, and the place where the assaulting party divided and prepared for an attack upon the fort, which was situated where the light-house is seen. The place of the causeway is on the left, denoted by the cattle. When I made this sketch it was quite high water, and the morass, there about one hundred feet wide, was almost covered. There was another place near the river shore, on the right, where the Point was accessible at times. It is distinguished in the sketeh by the narrow strip of land extending nearly across the mouth of the morass. Upon this the enemy had dug pits and placed sharpened stakes within them, so that, had the Americans attempted to reach the Point by that way many would have been impaled. The position of the Americans in the attack, and of the outworks and the abatis, will be better understood by a reference to the map on a preceding page.
** Major (afterward General) Hull says in his Memoir, "At about half past eleven o'clock, the two columns commenced their march in platoons. The beach was more than two feet deep with water, and before the right column reached it we were fired on by the out-guards, which gave the alarm to the garrison. We were now directly under the fort, and, closing in a solid column, ascended the hill, which was almost perpendicular. When about half way up, our course was impeded by two strong rows of abatis, which the forlorn hope had not been able entirely to remove. The column proceeded silently on, and, clearing away the abatis, passed to the breast-work, cut and tore away the pickets, cleared the chevaux de frise at the sally-port, mounted the parapet, and entered the fort at the point of the bayonet. Our column on the other side entered the fort at the same time. Each of our men had a white paper in his hat, which in the darkness distinguished him from the enemy; and the watch-word was, 'The fort's our own!'" Some authors have asserted that bomb-shells were thrown by the British, but such, probably, was not the fact. No official account that I have seen mentions the use of shells.
Wayne wounded.—His Bravery.—Surrender of the Fort—Wayne's laconic Dispatch.
the point of the bayonet, through every obstacle, until the van of each column met in the center of the works, where each arrived at the same time.' At the inner abatis, Wayne was struck upon the head by a musket ball, which brought him upon his knees. His two brave aids, Fishbow and Archer, raised him to his feet, and carried him gallantly through the works. Believing himself mortally wounded, the general exclaimed, as he arose, "March on! carry me into the fort, for I will die at the head of my column!" But the wound was not very severe, and he was able to join in the loud huzzas that arose when the two columns met as victors within the fort. Colonel De Fleury first entered the works, and struck the British standard with his own hands. The garrison surrendered at discretion as prisoners of war, and that brilliant achievement was rendered the more glorious for the clemency which the victors exercised toward the vanquished. Not a life was taken after the flag was struck and the garrison had pleaded for quarters. Wayne had but fifteen killed and eighty-three wounded; the British had sixty-three killed; ** and Johnson, the commander, with five hundred and forty-three officers and men, were made prisoners. The ships of the enemy lying in the river in front of Stony Point slipped their cables and moved down to a place of security. Before daylight, Wayne sent to the commander-in-chief the brief but comprehensive reply, of which a fac simile is here given: