On the 27th April, 1781, General Phillips, with his force, marched for Chesterfield Court-house, and detached General Arnold to a place called Osborne's. According to some accounts, the two forces had again met before the circumstance occurred which is now to be related; but, according to a manuscript book in the Royal Artillery Record Office, it was while some guns were attached to General Arnold's detached force. It is not very material, but as it is to the credit of the regiment whose services these pages commemorate, one would rather believe that General Phillips,—an Artilleryman himself,—had been in command, than General Arnold. Some armed vessels had been collected in James River for a special purpose by the Americans, and either the whole or part of Phillips' force marched with a view to secure them. In reply to a summons to surrender, the Commodore replied that he was determined to defend himself to the last extremity.
Two 6-pounders and two 3-pounders (the latter called "grasshoppers" in Lee's account, a favourite nickname for these guns, although sternly forbidden to be used in any official returns to the Commanding Officer of Artillery) were then taken to the banks of the river, with a detachment of the Royal Artillery, under Captain Fage and Lieutenant Rogers. The King's troops were exposed to the fire of the 'Tempest,' twenty guns; the 'Renown,' twenty-six; the 'Jefferson,' fourteen; and several smaller vessels. Some few hundred Militia also kept up a fire from the other bank of the river. It does not say much, for the American fire to find it recorded that not a single English soldier was hurt. The fire of the Royal Artillery seems to have been of a very different description. According to one account, so effectual was it, that, in a very short time, the ships were obliged to strike their colours, and the Militia were driven from the opposite shore. From want of boats the English were unable to secure their prizes; and the Americans made their escape, scuttling some of their vessels and setting fire to others. The loss of the enemy, according to this account, was very great, "owing to the well-directed fire of the British Artillery." Lee's account is as follows: "Quickly two sixes and two grasshoppers were brought to bear upon the Commodore; when he as quickly scuttled and set fire to his vessels, escaping, with his crew, to the northern banks of the river,—one way of 'holding out to the last extremity,' but not that commonly understood by the term." Among the many services in which the Artillery was engaged during the American War, perhaps none were quainter than this successful duel between four light field-pieces and an armed squadron of no inconsiderable strength, supported by troops on shore.
On the 29th April General Phillips marched, with the main body, in the direction of Manchester, which he reached on the following day, and where he destroyed a quantity of stores. General Arnold went, with the remainder of the troops, up the river in boats. Although the Marquis de la Fayette, with a considerable force, was at Richmond, and saw what was being done, he made no attempt to stop the damage; and on the following day General Phillips returned to Osborne's, where the engagement with the ships had taken place. Here he became seriously unwell, with a bad form of fever; and although he lingered to the 13th May, he was unable to perform any active duty, and was carried about in a vehicle until unable longer to leave his couch. The army had reached Petersburg before he died. This place is described by Lee as "the great mart of that section of the State which lies south of the Appomattox, and of the northern part of North Carolina, standing upon its banks about twelve miles from City Point, and, after the destruction of Norfolk, ranking first among the commercial towns of the State." To the Royal Artilleryman this Virginian town will always have a peculiar interest, as having been the scene of the death of as brave and honourable a soldier as ever served in the Regiment. From the glorious day at Minden, his professional career of more than one-and-twenty years had been one of credit to his corps, honour to himself, and usefulness to his country. He had been thirteen years in the Regiment before the Battle of Minden, so that his total service when he died exceeded thirty-four years. He was beloved by all who served with him, and was a model for Artillerymen to imitate, in gallantry, ability, and progress. He was eminently a progressive officer.
With September, 1781, came the commencement of the operations which virtually terminated the war. Sir Henry Clinton and Lord Cornwallis held different opinions as to the mode of prosecuting the war in Virginia: the former devoting his energies to the defence of New York; the latter anxious for increased numbers with which to carry on offensive operations. The Home Government was eager to secure some point on the southern coast, where the Army and Navy could mutually assist one another, and such a point Cornwallis was ordered by Sir Henry Clinton to secure. The place ultimately selected by him was a village called Yorktown, on a peninsula between James and York Rivers, along with the adjoining village of Gloucester, on the other bank of York River. This position he fortified to the utmost of his power, and communicated with Sir Henry Clinton at New York, with a view to reinforcements being sent to his assistance. Washington had completely deceived Clinton, and had induced him to believe that New York, not Virginia, was the object of the proposed operations of himself and his French allies. Taken by surprise by the sudden movement to the South now made by Washington and his forces, Clinton endeavoured to recall him by invading Connecticut, but without success; and having received an urgent letter from Cornwallis on the 23rd September, he called a Council of War, and on the 24th he wrote, promising to start about the 5th October with 5000 troops and twenty-three men-of-war to relieve him. Had he fulfilled his promise, a great disaster would have been spared; but instead of leaving on the 5th, it was not until the 19th,—the very day that Cornwallis, after a weary fortnight's expectation, had been obliged to surrender,—that he left Sandyhook; nor did he arrive off the Capes of Virginia until the 24th.
Of the gallantry of Cornwallis and his troops there has never been any question. He did not surrender until his ammunition was expended, his defences crumbled under the enemy's fire, and hope of succour completely fled. Of the gallantry of that portion of his troops in which the reader of these pages is most interested, he himself thus wrote in his official despatches: "Captain Rochfort, who commanded the Artillery, and, indeed, every officer and soldier of that distinguished Corps, have merited, in every respect, my highest approbation."
The force of Royal Artillery present at the capitulation of Yorktown amounted to 167 of all ranks. The largest number whom Lord Cornwallis had commanded during his Virginian campaign did not exceed 233, with fifty additional German Artillerymen. But, in addition to casualties before the investment of Yorktown, the loss to the Royal Artillery during the time between the 27th September and the 19th October,—the date of the capitulation,—was as follows:—
| Killed | 24 |
| Wounded | 21 |
| Missing | 2 |
There were also nineteen sick, in addition to the wounded, on the day the garrison surrendered.
In this crowning point of the American War the defenders were as much outnumbered as Sir Henry Clinton was out-manœuvred by Washington. It is impossible to praise too highly the tactics of the latter General on this occasion. The difficulties with which he had to contend were numerous. A spirit of discontent and insubordination had been manifested during the past year among his troops; there was a Loyalist party of no mean dimensions in the South; in Pennsylvania he could reckon on few active supporters; and New York,—stronger now than ever, after six years of British occupation,—seemed hopelessly unattainable. Worse than all, however, the French Admiral was nervous, and reluctant to remain in so cramped a situation with so large a fleet. Had he carried out his threat of going to sea, instead of yielding to Washington's earnest entreaties and remonstrances, the capitulation would never have taken place. Lee's description of the scene on the day the garrison marched out is doubly interesting, as being that of a spectator: "At two o'clock in the evening the British Army, led by General O'Hara, marched out of its lines with colours cased and drums beating a British march. The author was present at the ceremony; and certainly no spectacle could be more impressive than the one now exhibited. Valiant troops yielding up their arms after fighting in defence of a cause dear to them (because the cause of their country), under a leader who, throughout the war, in every grade and in every situation to which he had been called, appeared the Hector of his host. Battle after battle had he fought; climate after climate had he endured; towns had yielded to his mandate; posts were abandoned at his approach; armies were conquered by his prowess—one nearly exterminated, another chased from the confines of South Carolina beyond the Dan into Virginia, and a third severely chastised in that State, on the shores of James River. But here even he, in the midst of his splendid career, found his conqueror.
"The road through which they marched was lined with spectators, French and American. On one side the Commander-in-chief, surrounded by his suite and the American staff, took his station; on the other side, opposite to him, was the Count de Rochambeau in like manner attended. The captive army approached, moving slowly in column with grace and precision. Universal silence was observed amidst the vast concourse, and the utmost decency prevailed; exhibiting in demeanour an awful sense of the vicissitudes of human fortune, mingled with commiseration for the unhappy.... Every eye was turned, searching for the British Commander-in-chief, anxious to look at that man, heretofore so much the object of their dread. All were disappointed. Cornwallis held himself back from the humiliating scene, obeying emotions which his great character ought to have stifled. He had been unfortunate, not from any false step or deficiency of exertion on his part, but from the infatuated policy of his superior, and the united power of his enemy, brought to bear upon him alone. There was nothing with which he could reproach himself: there was nothing with which he could reproach his brave and faithful army: why not then appear at its head in the day of misfortune, as he had always done in the day of triumph? The British General in this instance deviated from his usual line of conduct, dimming the splendour of his long and brilliant career.... By the official returns it appears that the besieging army, at the termination of the siege, amounted to 16,000 men, viz. 5500 Continentals, 3500 militia, and 7000 French. The British force in toto is put down at 7107; of whom only 4017 rank and file are stated to have been fit for duty."