 |
John Singleton Copley, Henry Laurens, 1782, oil
on canvas, 137.5 cm x 103 cm, Washington, D.C .
National Portrait Gallery; Charles Willson Peale, George Washington at the Battle of Princeton, 1783, oil on canvas, 237 x 145 cm., Princeton, Princeton University Art Museum; Charles Willson Peale, Samuel Huntington, 1783, Philadelphia, Independence National Historical Park. |
Images of poorly-clothed and ill-fed Continental soldiers
huddled in huts, marching barefoot in the snow, determinedly defending bleak
hills despite ice and wind are seminal images in American history. According to
these narratives, the army’s ability to endure such hard times demonstrated
their resolve to establish a new nation. However, many of those images have
more in common with national myths and not with historic facts. Why the honest
confusion? Why have the boundaries between history and myth been blurred? In
order to understand the origins of such legends, the winter encampments at
Valley Forge in southeastern Pennsylvania (1777-1778) and Jockey Hollow near
Morristown, New Jersey (1779-1780) are essential places to start. These two winter
encampments were both moments when it appeared the common cause might unravel. The
roots of our national mythologies largely grow from these points.[1]
How and why Americans have conflated the experiences of the
revolutionary winters would require an exhaustive study of cultural memory. However,
one way we can develop a measure of appreciation for authentic encampment
experience and strip away the illusions and inventions is by analyzing letters belonging
to the foremost military and political leader of the American war effort,
George Washington. Specifically, Washington’s letters exchanged with the
presidents of the Continental Congress are essential documents that highlight
some of the most important challenges of each encampment. During the Valley
Forge and Jockey Hollow winters, Washington depended on two different
presidents, Henry Laurens and Samuel Huntington, respectively. Both men had
experience in provincial governance. Both had developed reputations as steady
and evenhanded leaders among congressional delegates. And both assumed the presidency
mere weeks before the Continental army established their encampments. And yet
their differences were striking. Henry Laurens was born into a prominent South
Carolina family and earned a fortune trading enslaved persons and profiting off
their labor. Samuel Huntington was born to hardscrabble Connecticut farmers and
self-educated, a far cry from Laurens’s private tutoring or European apprenticeship.
During these dismal winters, Washington had two remarkably different presidents
on whom the fate of his army rested.[2]
These correspondences do not provide a complete picture of
everyday life in camp or the numberless challenges faced by the Continentals. They
are a mere fraction of Washington’s total papers from these hard times.
However, they do highlight some of the most urgent matters that befell the commander
in chief and the Continental Congress. They uncover how the demands of war
evolved as the conflict ground on from Valley Forge, to Jockey Hollow, and
beyond. And most importantly, they challenge popular images of these
encampments long seared in the national psyche. Appreciating how Washington,
Laurens, and Huntington made war throughout these wearisome winters is a small
but essential step in more fully appreciating the complexity of these iconic Revolutionary
moments.[3]
Before diving into the contents of these documents, we must
first understand their objectives and purposes. For all the letters’
descriptions of suffering soldiers and supply shortages, these letters are inherently
political documents. Washington, Laurens, and Huntington all used persuasive
language to convince their recipient other their agenda. On December 23rd,
in the midst of a potentially catastrophic provisions crisis at Valley Forge,
Washington composed a letter appealing to President Laurens. Washington
included detailed descriptions of the sorry state of the Continental army
describing the “no less than 2898 Men now in Camp unfit for duty, because they
are barefoot and otherwise naked”. Highlighting the stakes of the moment he
informed Laurens that “unless some great and capital change suddenly takes
place…this Army must inevitably…Starve—dissolve—or disperse”. But despite the
dramatic pleas, the letter’s intent was not to detail specific shortcomings of
the army. Rather, Washington intended the letter encourage Laurens to act on these
urgent needs. The letter was just as much a plea as it was a ploy: if “some
great and capital change” were to occur, the letter implies that President Laurens
would bring it to fruition. Despite national mythologies that cast
revolutionaries, particularly Washington, as fundamentally apolitical, these
men were nonetheless astute wartime politicians who understood that political
means were necessary for achieving military ends .[4]
 |
| Figure 1: Pierre Eugène Du Simitière, engraving by Alexander Hay Ritchie, Henry Laurens, 1783, Lloyd W. Smith Collection, Box 148, Folder 3438, Morristown National Historical Park. |
In several ways, these letters challenge cultural images
that have developed around these winter encampments. First, the standard
picture of an inept, and uncaring Continental Congress oblivious to the
problems befalling the Continental army does not stand up to the scrutiny of
these letters. Both Laurens and Huntington deliberately and frequently informed
Washington of specific resolutions passed in Congress. Laurens reported on
Congressional actions intended to fill vacant positions in the army, establish
regulations for foraging soldiers, among others to the commander. Huntington
too enclosed resolutions in his dispatches including actions concerning new
enlistment terms and resolves on rank disputes. Congress certainly did not solve all the problems of
supply, unfilled leadership positions, or poor army organizational structure
that engulfed the Continentals in these winters. However, their chief
executives recognized that congressional inaction meant certain doom for the
war effort. [5]
Another
challenge to the national mythology these letters present concerns the military
situation of each encampment. The prevailing perception that during the
Revolution both armies paused active military operations until the spring does
not correspond with the documentary evidence. Washington and Laurens exchanged
letters describing both British and American foraging operations and even
planned an entire expedition into Canada that they eventually aborted.
Especially during the Jockey Hollow encampment, it even appears cold weather encouraged
more operations. Solid ice that chocked the tidal strait between New Jersey and
Staten Island allowed both armies to launch raids in January 1780. After a
failed American expedition into Staten Island, on January 27 Washington wrote
to Huntington “I am sorry to inform your Excellency that the Enemy on the night
of the 25th surprised our advanced parties which were stationed at Elizabeth
Town and New Ark—and made a part of them prisoners… several
people were plundered at New Ark & the Academy burnt; also the Meeting
& Town Houses at Elizabeth Town.” These various operations are instructive
in that they remind us despite winter conditions (and in some cases because of
them) military endeavors continued during the encampments. No winter ceasefire,
spoken or unspoken, existed. [6]
 |
| Figure 2: Bonar and Cumming, Samuel Huntington, Lloyd W. Smith Collection, Box 11, Folder 1293, Morristown National Historical Park. |
If their letters are any indication, the most pressing
problem the army confronted both winters was not supply crises or harsh
weather, but prisoner exchange. No
single topic exhausted so much ink between the leaders. Reports of the filthy,
malnourished, and diseased condition of American captives languishing in New
York had long been presented to Washington and Congress. While at Valley Forge
Washington and his aides attempted to set up a fair and equitable prisoner
exchange via a cartel. At the time President Laurens wanted to ensure that
Congress be involved in any negotiation. “I am also
directed to intimate to your Excellency as a recommendation from Congress that
every proper precaution be taken against putting it in the power of the Enemy
to take any unfair advantages in the Exchange of prisoners,” Laurens wrote. By the time of the winter at
Jockey Hollow, the cartel still managed to elude the commander in chief.
President Huntington, perhaps appreciating the worsening state of American
captives, ceded Congressional authority in the negotiation, informing
Washington that “…the matter of negotiating and settling a Cartel may safely be
trusted in your hands.” As the war ground on, not only did the terms of
negotiation change, but so did Washington’s relationship with the President and
thereby Congress itself.[7]
Some of
the most important political relationships Washington developed throughout the
war were with noncombatants, and these letters to Laurens and Huntington reveal
subtle changes in these interactions. Moreover, even these relationships
challenge national ideas about civilian interactions with the military. Difficulties
in procuring supplies were issues that befell both winter encampments and led
to drastic measures in the Continental army. To Henry Laurens on January 5,
1778 the general wrote that the army’s frequent use of supply “seizures” and
other “coercive measures…may
give a momentary relief, but if repeated will prove of the most pernicious
consequence.” These procedures were “spreading disaffection” and instilled
among his soldiers a “disposition to licentiousness—to plunder & Robbery,
difficult to suppress afterwards.” Surely Washington and Laurens
considered how these actions weakened the army’s political support in the
countryside.[8]
Writing exactly two years later to Samuel Huntington,
Washington’s views had altered noticeably. Facing another provisions shortage
he reported that with “very
scanty supplies…some for their preservation have been compelled to maraud and
rob from the Inhabitants.” During the Valley Forge winter Washington explained to
Laurens why such actions
harmed
the cause. At Jockey Hollow he informed Huntington to expect no such
admonition. “I have it not in my power to punish or to repress the practice.
If our condition should not undergo a very speedy & considerable
change for the better—it will be difficult to point out all the consequences
that may ensue.” More importantly, both these letters challenge the ingrained
national mythology that virtuous citizen soldiers of the Continental army always
demonstrated stouthearted commitment to the cause and their fellow citizens. As
supplies dwindled, the Continental army did not pause to seize property of
civilians, and it appears that by 1780, Washington was not as willing to
admonish his plundering soldiers.[9]
While these
letters do not provide a comprehensive overview of either the Valley Forge or Jockey
Hollow winter encampments, they do provide the starting point for us to
understand which encampment descriptions hold up to historical scrutiny and
which images were fabricated or in some cases outright invented. The impression
of the war effort according to these documents can be aptly summarized by what
Ron Chernow called the “draining atmosphere of a perpetual, slow motion crisis.”
To Washington, Laurens, and Huntington, Valley Forge and Jockey Hollow were not
moments that demonstrated national public virtue and unwavering commitment to
the cause as much as they were moments of exhaustion. The continuous strain of
supply crises, ongoing negotiations of prisoner exchanges, and constant
military operations, (all of which compounded by the slow pace of congressional
resolutions) sapped the Revolutionary movement of its vigor. It is only in
hindsight Americans have ascribed these encampments the veneer of heroism. [10]
[1]
This essay relies on George Washington’s letters exchanged with Presidents
Henry Laurens and Samuel Huntington during the winters (December 21-March 21)
at Valley Forge and Jockey Hollow, 1777-1778 and 1779-1780, respectively. See The Papers of George Washington Digital
Edition, ed. Theodore J. Crackel et al., Revolutionary War Series (16 June
1775-31 December 1783 [in progress]), Volumes 12-14, 23-24 (Charlottesville:
University of Virginia Press, Rotunda, 2008). Hereafter cited as PGW, Rev. War Ser.
[2]
Biographical Directory of the United
States Congress, “Laurens, Henry (1724-1792)”, accessed Nov 20, 2017,
http://bioguide.congress.gov/scripts/biodisplay.pl?index=L000121; Richard L.
Blanco, The American Revolution
1775-1783: An Encyclopedia, vol. 1, “Laurens, Henry (1724-1792)” (New York:
Garland Publishing, 1993), 906; Calvin C. Jillson and Rick K. Willson, Congressional Dynamics: Structure,
Coordination, and Choice in the First American Congress, 1774-1789 (Stanford:
Stanford University Press, 1994), 77-78; Carol Ganz, Samuel Huntington Governor of Connecticut, 1786-1796 History and
Genealogy Unit, Connecticut State Library (Hartford: November 2007).
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