This was on September third; but too late to save the stores, for the British were already encamped. A sharp skirmish with Cornwallis was reported by General Howe to have resulted in a British loss of two officers and twenty-two men, killed or wounded.
On the seventh, the entire army reached Newport, and took position along Red Clay Creek. On the same day, General Howe occupied Iron Hill, within eight miles of Red Clay, and again the American Rifles had a skirmish with the British advance. These picked men deliberately took up position after position, and only yielded to superior force as they slowly retired. The confidence of Washington was everywhere fully realized. On the eighth, the British army demonstrated in force; with view to turning the right of Washington, and to cut him off from communication with Philadelphia. At half-past nine of the morning of the ninth, pursuant to the unanimous vote of a council of officers, Washington took up a new position, selected by General Greene, on the east bank of the Brandywine and on high ground, just back of Chadd’s Ford, and commanding the Chester and Philadelphia road. The Battle of Brandywine followed. The space which has been allowed for this narrative can admit only such leading incidents as unfold Washington’s general management, and the ultimate results.
A reference to the map will aid the reader to understand the relative positions of the opposing armies. The American army was on the eastern bank of the river, which was quite rugged of approach and easily defended. Its left wing, southward, began with Armstrong’s Pennsylvania militia. At the next ford, Chadd’s, and nearly as far as Brinton’s, are Weedon, Muhlenburg and Wayne, with Proctor’s artillery in their rear, behind light earthworks thrown up in haste. In their rear, on still higher ground, is the reserve division of General Greene, with Washington’s headquarters. Next in order, up the river, are the divisions of Sullivan, Stephen and Stirling, each of two brigades—with Sullivan in virtual command, and Stirling, next in rank, commanding the right division—and practically reaching Jones’ Ford. Major Spear had charge of scouts extended as far as the forks of the Brandywine and the adjacent fords, both below and above the forks. The upper ford, Jeffries, was not thoroughly watched, and its distance almost precluded the liability of its use. A road from Jones’ Ford runs perpendicularly to the river, over to the Dilworth and Winchester road, and just before reaching the Birmingham Meeting House, passes high, rough and wooded ground, where the chief fighting took place. The British encampment on the tenth is indicated at the left of the map.
On the morning of the eleventh, Maxwell crossed at Chadd’s Ford; advanced to Kennett Meeting House, and skirmished with Knyphausen, until compelled by a superior force to fall back to high ground near the river. Porterfield and Waggoner crossed at his left and attacked Ferguson’s Rifles. Knyphausen brought up two brigades, with guns; and this force, with the Queen’s Rangers, on Knyphausen’s extreme right, compelled both American detachments to recross the river. The American casualties were sixty, and those of the Hessian and British troops about one hundred and thirty. A fog along the river had facilitated Maxwell’s operations; but it prevented the American scouts from gaining accurate data as to the movements of the British. While Knyphausen was demonstrating as if to force a crossing at Chadd’s Ford, Cornwallis was reported to be moving with five thousand men and artillery toward a ford near the forks of the Brandywine. Bland had crossed at Jones’ Ford, between nine and ten in the morning, and reported this movement of Cornwallis. Washington ordered Sullivan to cross and attack Cornwallis, while he intended to cross at Chadd’s Ford, in person, and attack Knyphausen, assigning to General Greene an intermediate crossing, to strike the left of the Hessian general. When the fog disappeared, there was no evidence of the whereabouts of the British column. It seemed hardly possible that it had gone further up the river; while, if it had joined Knyphausen, the force was too strong to be attacked. Washington therefore revoked his orders, and withdrew the skirmish party that had already made the crossing. As a matter of fact, the movement of Cornwallis was but a flanking support to the advance of the entire British army; while Knyphausen’s advance towards Chadd’s Ford, although prepared to cross, if opportunity favored, was a ruse to draw attention from General Howe’s splendid manœuvre. That officer left Kennett Square at daylight, marched seventeen miles, and by two o’clock had crossed the upper fork of the Brandywine, and was moving down upon the right of the entire American army.
As soon as advised that the British were advancing, Washington ordered Sullivan to bring the entire right wing into position to oppose their progress. The woods were dense and the surface was rocky, so that three divisions must swing back and present to the British advance a new front, almost perpendicular to that with which they had previously faced the river. But it would bring them to the high ground, before noticed, between Birmingham Meeting House and the river. This movement, which practically involved one of the most difficult elements of Grand Tactics,—defined in the Preface as the “Art of handling force on the battlefield,”—was not within General Sullivan’s capacity. The best troops in the world would have found it slow of execution, while no less vital to success in the existing emergency. It required of the division commanders just that kind of familiarity with combined movements of brigades and divisions, which is required of regiments in a single brigade, or of companies in a regiment. Sullivan could not at the same time command the Grand Division, or Corps, and his own division proper, unless able to place that division in charge of a brigadier-general who was fully competent to command a division. It is also to be borne in mind that the woods, rocks, undergrowth, and suddenness of the order complicated the movement. Stirling and Stephen succeeded in gaining the new position, barely in time to meet the assault of Cornwallis, without time for intrenching to any effect. Sullivan’s Division fell into such disorder, that after sending four aides, and then a personal appeal, he gave up the attempt to rally his division. He says: “Some rallied, others could not be brought even by their officers to do anything but fly.” Only three of his regiments—those of Hazen, Dayton and Ogden, ever reliable—gained and firmly held the new position throughout the battle.
The enemy, which had formed behind Osborne’s Hill, advanced rapidly, Cornwallis in the lead. The resistance was stubborn and well maintained, as General Howe admitted, from three o’clock until sunset. Sullivan, upon finding himself powerless to rally and move his own division, while he was responsible for the entire combined movement, went to the battlefield and was conspicuous for bravery during the day. The resistance of Stirling and Stephen was admirable; but the brigade of Deborre, a French general, broke and fled, in wild disorder. The absence of Sullivan’s Division left a gap on the American left of nearly half a mile, and Deborre’s cowardice shattered the right wing.
As soon as the right wing gave way, Washington hastened, with Greene, to the front. There was no retreat except toward Dilworth. By a direct march of nearly four miles in fifty minutes, and a wheel to the left, of half a mile, Washington was enabled to occupy a defile from which to open a passage for the retreating battalions. He then closed in upon their rear, and prolonged the resistance with vigor. In an orchard beyond Dilworth, three regiments made another stand. Night separated the two armies. Stirling and Stephen saved both artillery and baggage. Armstrong’s brigade, on the extreme left, below Chadd’s Ford, was not engaged: but, together with Maxwell’s, and Wayne, who was compelled to abandon his guns, joined the main army, without further loss. They had, however, kept Knyphausen beyond the river. The entire army fell back to Chester. The American casualties were seven hundred and eighty, and those of the British were six hundred. Lafayette lost a horse, and was himself wounded, in this his first service after receipt of his commission.
Deborre was dismissed for cowardice. Conflicts as to the defective reconnoissance that nearly sacrificed the army arose, which need not be discussed. In justice to General Sullivan, Washington wrote a letter responsive to his request for some testimonial to submit to Congress, which is here given in part: “With respect to your other query, whether your being posted on the right was to guard that flank, and whether you had neglected it, I can only observe that the only obvious if not the declared purpose of your being there, implied every necessary precaution for the security of that flank. But it is at the same time to be remarked, that all the fords above Chadd’s from which we were taught to apprehend danger were guarded by detachments from your division, and that we were led to believe by those whom we had every reason to think well acquainted with the country, that no ford above our picket-lines could be passed without making a very circuitous march.” The British army remained on the field; and the wounded of both armies were properly cared for by General Howe. His skill as a scientific soldier was again illustrated, as well as his habitual failure to follow up a first success; but he was under peculiar conditions which must have influenced his judgment. His army had left its ships, which had been ordered to go to the Delaware; as his objective was the capture of Philadelphia, after first destroying the American army. That army had retreated in remarkable order and under good control. Humanity alone would have persuaded Howe to care for the wounded, and a night pursuit, of the Americans through that country, would have been a wild venture.
Washington’s despatch to President Hancock announcing his retreat to Chester, was dated from that place at midnight, September 11, 1777. The wonderful presence of mind of the American Commander-in-Chief, his aptitude for emergencies, and his extraordinary capacity for making the most of raw troops, were never more thoroughly evinced during his entire public career. The uneven ground, dense woods, and facilities for good rifle-practice, were features favorable to inspire his troops with special resisting capacity; and it is not beyond a fair presumption to suggest that, if the main army had been allowed two hours for fortifying their position, the British, accustomed to lighting in close order, would have been repulsed. It is certain that General Howe had skilful as well as willing guides, to secure to him, by so long a détour, his surprise of Sullivan’s right wing. That was part of the same toryism of that period which a few days later, and not far away, betrayed Wayne’s forces, with great loss. But with all the mistakes, and the retreat of the American army, there was much of hope in the experience and in the sequel of the Battle of Brandywine.