Chapter III: Part 3

Most of the foreign representatives had fled from Washington during the stormy scenes which followed the departure of the President. But the English, German, and French ministers remained, confiding in the protection of their national flags, and actuated by a sense of duty towards their fellow-countrymen in the United States, who were more numerous than those of other nationalities. They were speedily shown that revenge was a stronger motive in the breasts of the new rulers than prudence.

Even before the arrival of Herr Liest in Washington, O’Halloran, smarting under the memory of British prisons and the wound an English enemy had inflicted on him, had cabled to London a long message, signed by his own name alone, and addressed to “The British Government,” demanding the instant release of certain specified criminals and prisoners waiting trial in British jails, on the ground that they were American citizens. Of course no notice was taken of the message in London; but without twenty-four hours’ delay for the receipt of an answer, if one should be made, O’Halloran ordered the arrest of the British minister then at Washington. The astounded diplomat was informed of the message which had been sent to London, and told that he would be confined until a satisfactory answer was received. If the demand was not granted in full within sixty days, he was threatened with trial by court-martial on the charge of complicity in the Englishman’s assault upon the Irish agitator. He was informed that he might send his Government such account of his imprisonment as he saw fit; and he was also at liberty to add that, in the event of the British Government’s refusal to accede to the Irish-American terms, not only would he (the minister) assuredly forfeit his life, but ships and men enough would be sent to Ireland from American ports to effect the release of the prisoners specified, by whatever force might be necessary. The minister availed himself of the privilege offered him, and sent a long despatch from his cell to the British Foreign Office.

The English Government and the English people had been enraged already to the utmost limit of endurance by the unfriendly indifference of the Washington authorities to the dynamite outrages in England, which had been planned in American cities by American citizens, paid for by American contributions, and carried out by American agents. This affront to England’s accredited representative and its flag was more than could be endured for a moment. The Cabinet was in consultation when the minister’s despatch arrived in Downing Street. It was supplemented within a couple of hours by another from the secretary of the legation, corroborating the arrest of the minister and giving the additional particulars that the embassy had been forcibly entered by a band of armed men acting under O’Halloran’s instructions, and all its papers and records removed.

Parliament was in session. That night the news from America was announced to both Houses, and the Government stated that it would be prepared at the next evening’s sitting to ask for a vote of credit. This declaration was received with loud applause. In the Commons, an Opposition member was instantly on his feet with the notice that he would on the next day move that the outrage committed on England’s representative demanded swift and summary vengeance. A member of the Cabinet dryly remarked that perhaps the Government would by that time have something to propose rather more to the point. The retort was greeted with louder cheers than ever; and before Parliament adjourned for the night it was clear that a declaration of war was the matter of but a few hours in the future.

The minister’s arrest took place on the second of September. When Parliament met on the third, the Government announced that war existed between Great Britain and the United States by the act of the latter Power, and asked a credit of twenty millions sterling to maintain British prestige and avenge British wrongs. The few Irish members who retained seats in Parliament attempted to use their customary dilatory tactics. For once they were cowed by the roar of indignant derision which greeted them from floor and galleries. In actual fear of personal peril, they gave over their “filibustering,” and shortly slunk out of the House. There was no division. Without a single dissentient voice the credit asked for by the Government was voted. When the Speaker declared it carried, the Secretary of War rose and stated that the utmost exertions of the Government had been set in motion, even before the vote was taken, to put every war vessel in its possession in readiness for service, and that over three thousand active seamen had volunteered that day to serve on the expedition which would shortly be sent across the Atlantic. The news flew to every hamlet in the United Kingdom, and the next day saw an outburst of loyal zeal such as was never witnessed in England before. Within four days more than two thousand steam ocean-going vessels had been offered to the Government for use as troop-ships in conveying soldiers across the Atlantic. The same spirit which actuated the ship-owners moved every other class, and the Government found all the wealth of the nation and all its men freely dedicated to the war.

The very day that witnessed the British Government’s acceptance of the war saw another complication added to affairs at Washington. The two ministers of France and Germany visited the White House, where the triumvirate, O’Halloran, Wagner, and Herr Liest, had taken up their quarters, to urge upon them the folly of their course in arresting the English minister, and to plead for his release and dismissal from the country. It happened that Liest and Kopf were angrily reproaching O’Halloran, at the very moment of their arrival, for his action in involving the revolutionists in a war with Great Britain while the cause of their brethren in Germany was utterly neglected.

When the German minister entered and began his plea for his English colleague, Herr Liest took the answer out of O’Halloran’s mouth, and began a fiery tirade against Germany and the German Government. The diplomat listened in amazement for a few minutes; then, without deigning a word of reply, turned his back on the party and stalked haughtily out of the room, followed by his French colleague. The moment they had gone, Herr Liest, with his voice rising to a shriek, in a frenzy of anger demanded that they both be treated as the English minister had been. Kopf seconded the demand with a vehemence as great as Liest’s. O’Halloran attempted to calm their passion and point out to them the impolicy of angering at the same moment three of the strongest Powers of the world. They would not listen to him. Instead, they taunted him with showing weakness in the common cause. Wagner sided with them, though less violently. O’Halloran saw that it would not be safe for him to give them the chance to accuse him of lack of energy or zeal. A guard was hastily sent after the diplomats, and they were incarcerated in the same jail which held the British minister.

The moment this was done, the revolutionists saw that they must hasten, if they were to strike the first blow against their old-time European “oppressors,” before attack should be made on them from abroad. Acting under orders sent out by the three self-appointed dictators, detachments from various revolutionary organizations at the different seaports seized possession of all foreign vessels lying at their wharves. The officers were put in confinement and the crews sent ashore, except such as chose to enlist in the revolutionary service. Cannon of every sort were dragged aboard them, and they set out in fleets from every Atlantic port to prey on whatever commerce might fall in their path.

The moment he had assumed the duties of secretary of war, Mr. Wagner had set about the organization of an army. He passed over the usual authorities. Not a message was sent to the governor of a single State. Nowhere was the militia ordered out, nor volunteers asked for, nor a draft ordered. The various Irish and socialistic societies were notified that men were wanted, and their answers were prompt. Camps were formed near New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Washington, Chicago, Cincinnati, St. Louis, and other cities. In them rapidly gathered motley armies of Irish dynamiters, German socialists, French and Italian communists, with here and there Russian nihilists, Swiss anarchists, and outlaws of every nationality. With these mingled a larger proportion than two years before would have been regarded as possible, of native-born workmen who had been inveigled into the revolutionary ranks by the plausible pleadings of agitators, or driven into them by their own sufferings and wrongs. Among the Irish were a few who had served in the armies of 1861–1865; but in the main these camps were noticeable for the absence of men who had seen service in the cause of their country during the civil war. Still their numbers were formidable. Altogether, they mustered something over five hundred thousand men, armed with such weapons as the arsenals which they had looted could furnish, and obedient enough to the orders sent out from Washington, so long as those orders did not conflict with those of “the Old Man.” And it was no longer a secret that such conflict was impossible, inasmuch as the triumvirate there were known to be but puppets in the hand of that mysterious central authority.

Meanwhile, in several quarters attempts to organize bodies from the population opposed to the revolutionists had been crushed with terrible cruelty. Except such weapons as chanced to be in their possession before the outbreak, it was impossible for the really patriotic people of the land to find arms and ammunition, or even to organize. Every attempt on their part to meet in large numbers was prevented. Guerilla bands lurked among the mountains in States which afforded them such shelter. Thence they maintained a desultory warfare on such small bodies of revolutionists as they could safely attack. No quarter was shown them; they showed none in return. Civil war raged in every congressional district,--it might almost be said in every town. But all the great centres of communication were in the undisputed possession of the revolutionists. The depots of supplies were in their hands; they held all the arsenals; they had confiscated the public treasure. It is probable that the patriots really outnumbered the revolutionists; but they were without arms, they lacked money, they lacked supplies, they lacked organization. The revolutionists spared no pains, hesitated at no tyranny, forbore no cruelty which promised to keep them deprived of arms and to prevent combinations among them.

XIII.

CAPTURE OF BOSTON.

The month of September wore away. October came, and with it the opening of the “peace convention” which O’Halloran had called on the first day of his power at Washington. But its sessions were cut short by the unexpectedly speedy action of England. On the declaration of the British Government that war existed with the United States, cable communication between the United Kingdom and the United States had been broken. The arrest of the French and German ministers had caused irrepressible indignation in the Governments they represented, and the refusal of the triumvirate in power at Washington to heed their demands for reparation and apology had been followed by almost simultaneous declarations of war from Paris and Berlin. All communication with the United States from any part of their dominions was peremptorily forbidden. No news could be received from Europe except by roundabout and tedious routes, and little was known of what was being done there; but no one among the revolutionary leaders dreamed of a blow being struck before the opening of the ensuing spring.

It was therefore with something like stupefaction that they heard, on the morning of the very day on which their farcical “peace convention” met, of the arrival in the port of Halifax of a powerful British fleet, consisting of seventeen armored fighting ships and thirty of the largest steamships formerly plying across the Atlantic, which had been transformed for the time being into troop-ships, conveying an army of twenty-eight thousand men and an immense amount of ammunition and warlike supplies. This fleet, said the first despatch which was handed to O’Halloran just before he rose to open the convention, was coaling up as rapidly as the conveniences in the port would permit, evidently with the intention of making a speedy descent at some point on the American coast. O’Halloran showed the despatch to Wagner; but both considered that it must be a hoax. It was impossible, they agreed, that England could have had a fleet in readiness and transports at hand, and men and arms prepared so as to strike across the three thousand miles of intervening sea within a month from the date on which hostilities had been declared. They consequently decided to ignore the despatch. But other despatches soon followed, confirming the news. They came from such sources that even O’Halloran was convinced of their entire truth. Summoning the two other members of “the Government,” he laid his additional information before them.

Nothing had been done to strengthen the defences of a single seaport along the eastern border of the land. Built many years before, and to withstand the fire of comparatively small guns, the forts which stood at the entrances of the Atlantic harbors were practically of no offensive or defensive value whatever. They could neither withstand the shot of modern guns nor reply with missiles likely to injure in the slightest degree the sides of modern armored vessels. There was not, in all the waters of the world, a navy flying the American flag which was able, unitedly, to combat the weakest of the ironclads named as making up the English power at Halifax. Upon the first outbreak in April, the little band of regular-army officers engaged in experiments with torpedoes at various stations along the coast had been compelled to join their regiments, and had not since returned to their experiments. The Revolutionary Government had done nothing except issue “subventions” to a few long-haired, half-crazed socialists and dynamiters to enable them to continue pottering and unscientific attempts at the invention of new explosives. There were not experienced gunners enough in the entire revolutionary army to man completely and to work efficiently the guns in half the forts along the coast, such as they were.

It was naturally assumed that New York, the richest city of the country and the real centre of the revolution, would be the first object of British attack. There were already about one hundred and fifty thousand men in or about the city. They were hastily sent to the forts of the harbor. Orders from Washington set a hundred thousand more in motion towards the metropolis from Western cities. Canal-barges and tow-boats were seized, loaded with stone, and sunk across the channel at the Narrows. Others were loaded with petroleum and made ready for use as fire-ships to send against the attacking fleet.

The convention speedily broke up. It held two sessions, but these were spent in wordy wrangles; they failed to result in even the choice of a presiding officer. The real leaders of the revolutionists hurried towards the East on the confirmation of the news from Halifax. Others followed in rapid succession, till, on the second day, less than half the delegates remained in Washington. The convention dissolved. It did not adjourn, it simply ceased to exist.

But Admiral Seymour, who commanded the British fleet, did not aim at New York. While the revolutionists there were working with the energy of desperation to block the approach to their water-front, he turned into Boston Harbor, and, a little before noon, the 8th of October, fired his first shot into Fort Warren, the structure defending the lower main channel. The little garrison in the fort responded bravely for an hour, but they could do nothing to harm the British fleet. Their numbers were small, their guns old-fashioned and weak, and their ammunition was soon spent. Their missiles seldom reached the sides of the British vessels; when they did, they rebounded and fell off as if they had been nothing worse than pebbles. The British fire was not rapid at first, but terribly exact, and the fleet steadily drew to closer quarters. The leading vessels approached within less than a fourth of a mile of the fort. Their fire became more rapid and destructive. The garrison was driven from the casemates and compelled to retreat under such shelter as could be found. The flag was shot away. A landing-party from the fleet rowed down upon the fort, under the fire their own vessels were pouring into it. Before they reached it, a white flag appeared on the walls, and firing ceased. The fort surrendered.

Leaving a few men to dismantle it and destroy the magazine, the fleet proceeded up the harbor without meeting further resistance. Its appearance off the outer light had been announced in the city during the morning, and every road to the North and West was blocked by flying fugitives, who expected each moment to hear the shriek of British shells hurtling above them through the air. Admiral Seymour drew up in front of the city and within a quarter of a mile of the wharves, each vessel swinging broadside to and anchoring bow and stern. The guns were manned; and in this position he waited an hour for any message that might be sent him from the shore.

But the mayor of Boston was himself an Irishman who had become known as a sympathizer in the dynamite outrages. He had made several virulent speeches against England and in eulogy of the “Irish martyrs,” as it was the custom of his kind to denominate such murderers as were hanged for assassinating landlords in Ireland or blowing up women and children in London. He dared not show himself on board an English war-vessel. In truth, he had been among the first to flee the city on the news of the English approach. The city council had been hurriedly convened; but time was wasted in a search for him before his flight became known.

During this hour of waiting, a party of young and reckless Irish bravos had managed to steal unobserved into Fort Independence. This was an antiquated stone fort in the upper harbor, entirely deserted, and mounting a few harmless cannon. With these they began firing upon the nearest British vessels. Their missiles had no more effect on the armored war-ships than pop-guns could have had on Achilles’ shield; but they ended the respite which Admiral Seymour had given the city. A shell from his flag-ship was the signal for a volley from the whole fleet. But the second round had not been fired when a white flag was seen moving down Long Wharf and a party of men taking a boat. An alderman boarded the flag-ship and begged that no further destruction be done, as the city was defenceless and no opposition would be offered to the operations of the fleet. In fact, he begged that a guard might be landed at once to take possession of the public buildings and save them from utter destruction in the disorder which was rampant once more in the city, and which the authorities could not repress.

Night had already begun to fall; nevertheless a strong party of marines was landed from the fleet. Most of the public buildings had been destroyed by the mob during the outbreaks in the summer; but the State House was still standing, though its interior had been dismantled, and the post-office was intact. These buildings were taken possession of, and put in readiness for defence against any attacks such as might be made by a mob; small garrisons were left in them, and other bodies encamped on the famous “Common” and in the Public Garden.

The next morning’s dawn saw the harbor black with the smoke of a score of transports, from which whole brigades of red-coated soldiers were disembarked at Long Wharf. As fast as landed they were marched through the city and pushed out beyond the suburbs in every direction, where they began the work of fortifying themselves. From Hingham to Revere, earthworks were thrown up and mounted with guns taken from the forts in the harbor and pieces brought by the invaders. Describing a vast semicircle, these fortifications cut off every landward approach to the city. Detached forts were built on strategic points in advance of the general line, and behind the semicircle a double line of railway track was laid, so that every point of the fortifications was within half an hour of relief from any other post. Transports arrived almost daily with fresh troops and munitions. The city was turned into a vast British camp, and evidence soon came that it had been chosen as the winter quarters, from which operations would be begun in the spring. General Wood, of Afghan and African fame, arrived a few days later and assumed command.

The revolutionists had not allowed this work to proceed without making all the trouble they could. As soon as the attack on Boston had developed itself, large detachments had been hurried from New York to the assistance of the small number which had been left watching the New England metropolis. But transportation was so slow and facilities so inadequate that they found the British in force occupying the most important positions around the city, and already strongly fortified, before they could gather strength sufficient to warrant an attack. They brought with them only field-pieces in the way of artillery, and were overmatched even by the old-fashioned guns from the harbor forts with which many of the earthworks had been mounted. From these guns the English gunners constantly dropped shells among them, reaching their camps at a distance from which they could make no reply. One or two desperate assaults were made on the intrenchments; but a near approach showed that these were not only mounted with numerous long-range pieces, but that their parapets fairly bristled with Gatling guns and mitrailleuses, which mowed the assailants down in actual swaths as they came within rifle-shot. Hopeless of success, the revolutionists sullenly retired to Worcester, Springfield, Providence, and other interior cities, and the Washington triumvirate prepared to wait till spring. Then they hoped to muster a force great enough to overwhelm, by sheer weight of numbers, all the British who might be sent across the sea.

When the city was first captured, a number of prominent Irish leaders had been seized by the troops under Admiral Seymour. In one of the assaults made on the British earthworks in Medford, a few days later, about two hundred revolutionists, including two officers calling themselves generals, had been captured. They were conveyed to the jail on Charles Street, and incarcerated with the Irishmen previously arrested. The next day General Wood called the city council together at his headquarters, which had been fixed in the State House, and directed them to inform the General Government at Washington, “or the persons in whose custody the English minister and his colleagues of France and Germany are detained,” that these prisoners would be held as hostages for the safe keeping and delivery of the diplomats within British lines. Furthermore, the council was advised that all non-combatants would do well to remove from the city, as the general would not be responsible for the preservation of the city itself should news arrive of any harm to these foreign representatives. For themselves, they were relieved from their offices, as the city was to be put under martial law.

When the winter opened it found Boston turned into a British fortress, without a trace of self-government left, with its streets guarded by detachments of British soldiers, and all its public affairs administered by a board of British officers. Nevertheless, there was better order and less suffering under the management of these foreign invaders than were experienced in any of the cities in which the revolutionists retained control. Business revived under the stimulus of the presence of a large army, and merchants, despite the menace of Admiral Seymour’s warning, which still hung over the city, felt more confidence than they had known for many a month. Throughout the rest of the land the control of the revolutionists was supreme, except in some of the rural portions, where small bands, composed of those who had once been the best and most loyal citizens, disputed their rule and maintained themselves by a sort of guerilla warfare.

During the winter several of these bands united in the upper portions of Vermont and New Hampshire, and succeeded in opening communication with others in New York, Ohio, and the Southern States. The old spirit of republicanism was found stronger in the South than in any other portion of the country, and the revolutionists were proportionately weaker there. A considerable force of loyalists was known to be lurking in the mountains of eastern Tennessee. Slowly the hope grew that a combination might be effected between the scattered bands in the North and West and these in Tennessee, which would be recruited rapidly from the South, and which might attain sufficient size to warrant a movement against the revolutionists, now distracted by the British attack. Among the patriots were many officers of the regular army and a considerable number of veterans who had seen service on both sides in the civil war of 1861–1865. Their efforts were devoted to drilling and instructing the loyalists in such simple and rudimentary tactics as could be taught to them individually or at the occasional and secret meetings when a few score could be collected without danger of discovery. With great difficulty and in the face of apparently insuperable obstacles, two armies, of about eighteen and thirty thousand men respectively, were at last collected in northern New England and western New York. If they could be united, and especially if the loyal forces, which were known to have increased to some eight or ten thousand in eastern Tennessee, could be joined with them, and the command of the whole army put into an experienced officer’s hands, it was felt that there was a chance for striking a blow which should inspirit the loyal people all over the country and make possible a general uprising against the brutal and cruel and utterly irresponsible rule of the revolutionists. This scheme was carried out toward the close of the winter in so far as the union of the two northern bands was concerned. But it was found impracticable for them to join the Southern force, or for it to reach them, until spring opened. Before that time other events occurred, which must now be chronicled.

XIV.

THE EUROPEAN COALITION.

France and Germany had replied to the outrage upon their plenipotentiaries at Washington by almost simultaneous declarations of war. But their action came later than that of England, and it was felt by each Government to be impossible for it to do anything of importance before the coming spring. Moreover, it was a grave question how they should act so as to avoid the possibility of complications with each other and with England, whose fleet and army were already actively engaged. Each Government detached a small fleet with instructions to harass the coast, seize as much American shipping as possible, capture privateers, and destroy supplies. But they were not to attempt any serious warfare until further details should be arranged. The diplomatic correspondence which followed showed that all three Governments were impressed with the danger, not only to themselves, but also to civilization, of allowing the American excesses to go unpunished.

The maniacs who had secured control of affairs in the western hemisphere had practically declared war against the whole world and against civilization itself. It was found that the other European Powers sympathized with England, Germany, and France in their feeling that the revolution must be crushed out at any cost, and so completely that there should be no danger of its reviving. Hardly a Government in Europe but had had experience with the men now in power in America. Not a Government in Europe but knew that in its own dominions thousands of other socialists and anarchists were waiting the triumph of their brethren across the water to rise themselves in fierce revolt.

Early in January a conference representing all the European Governments was held at Berlin. Representatives from Russia, Austria, Spain, and Italy were there, as well as from England, France, and Germany. For once the instinct of self-preservation overcame the hereditary distrust of these generally antagonistic Powers. The debates of the conference were characterized by a plainness of speech, a directness and unanimity of agreement, and a promptness of action which were new to the history of diplomacy. It sat but five days. During that time it perfected a European alliance in which all the nations represented united for the object of crushing the anarchistic revolution in America. It was decided that the actual conduct of the war should be left to the three Powers already involved; but the other Governments agreed to close their ports to American vessels, to refuse supplies for use in America, and to sustain in every way short of actual war the Powers which should act in behalf of Europe in the field and on the ocean.

Of the three nations already at war with the revolutionists, England was unquestionably the greatest Naval Power. It was determined that the united fleet of the allies should be put under the command of Admiral Seymour, already in American waters. Germany and France forgot their traditional hatred for the time, and vied with each other as to which should succeed in relinquishing to the other the supreme authority over the army. It was finally agreed that General Count von Blücken, the strategist who had succeeded to the command of the German army, should have control in the field, with a staff comprising an equal number of French, German, and English officers.

Before the middle of January, 1888, the arrangements perfected by the conference had been ratified by the various Governments interested, and preparations were being pushed rapidly forward for the spring campaign. General Sir Evelyn Wood had been put in command of the British forces in and around Boston. Admiral Seymour returned to London early in January, and held a long consultation there with General Wood, General von Blücken, and General de l’Isle, who was to command the French contingent. Long Island Sound, itself an immense land-locked harbor, was selected as the rendezvous of the fleets. On the northern shore of the Sound was marked out the point for the collection of the army. Before the end of February Seymour returned to America. He was accompanied by considerable reinforcements for the British garrison in Boston. Within a week after his departure the first convoy of the allies sailed from Havre. It consisted of seven powerful ships of war and a fleet of transports under their protection, bearing nearly fifty thousand men. Only a day later the first German contingent sailed from Bremen.

Day by day and week by week others followed. The allies knew that they had undertaken a Herculean task in the subjugation of the United States, torn and divided though its once impregnable power had become. They determined to make no mistake in underestimating the resistance which they were likely to meet. Before the end of April they had in the Sound, occupying various harbors along its shores, a fleet of one hundred and twenty men-of-war. On shore, including the British troops garrisoning Boston, they had an army of half a million men, all trained soldiers, all armed with the most perfect weapons which modern science had discovered and modern skill invented, and in receipt, even after that enormous number had been reached, of constant reinforcements.

Practically no opposition had been offered to their landing along the Connecticut shore. The revolutionists had no information of the point which the fleet intended to strike, and naturally assumed that Boston, which was already in foreign hands, would be selected as the base of the contemplated invasion. When they discovered their error it was too late to make a hopeful defence. They contented themselves, therefore, with strengthening their fortifications around New York, and calling to that city as many of their men as could be spared from watching the British at Boston and the patriots in the interior parts of the country.

The loyalists, it need not be said, viewed this invasion of foreign troops with almost as much alarm as they had felt at the uprising of the native revolutionists. There had been division in their councils before this. The news of the European alliance still more completely split them into factions. One party frankly owned that they regarded a foreign conquest as vastly preferable to a continuance of revolutionary rule. The other party, though hating the revolutionists with equal hatred, asked what was likely to be the result upon the fortunes of the Republic of a victory by the foreign allies. Long and anxious discussions were held during the latter portion of the winter and the early weeks of spring. Attempts were made to ascertain the intentions of the allies in case they should defeat the revolutionists; but no one among the invaders was found who could undertake to answer that question. Many left the little band of patriots and returned to their homes, refusing to share longer in a movement which could not be regarded as anything else than an alliance with a foreign invasion. The others determined to remain inactive for the time, and wait the events of the summer.

As the spring opened and it became certain to the revolutionists that New York was the object at which the allied attack was to be first aimed, they summoned more of their forces from the interior, and left the patriots greater opportunity to move with freedom. The two little armies of northern New England and of western New York united near Lake George and slowly moved down the western bank of the Hudson to Newburg, where they could watch events and take such part as might seem best at the time. They numbered altogether about fifty thousand men.

As soon as the spring weather allowed, the revolutionists renewed their efforts to put the metropolis in a condition of defence. The approaches to the harbor were entirely closed by the sinking of additional barges and scows laden with stones. Torpedoes were thickly planted outside these obstructions, so as to make any attempt to remove them as dangerous as possible. Relying upon the inability of the attacking squadron to pass these obstacles and enter the harbor, the revolutionists imitated the tactics of Admiral Seymour at Boston, and removed most of the guns from the forts below the city to the earthworks and intrenchments they had thrown up to the northward and eastward of it.

The allies lay encamped along the Connecticut shore of the Sound, mostly between Bridgeport and Greenwich. From New Rochelle to Yonkers the revolutionists erected a chain of strong works, stretching entirely across the peninsula whose point is occupied by New York city. Three separate lines of intrenchments were constructed, each one of which was capable of being defended after everything in front of it was in the possession of the enemy. Detached forts and redoubts were thrown up on every elevation or commanding point.

On the Brooklyn side the defences were less elaborate, but still strong. It was evident that the possession of Brooklyn by the allies would render New York untenable; but the revolutionists felt confident that they could transport troops faster from the forts above New York to the Brooklyn side than the allies could be moved across the Sound to attack from Long Island. They had the inner and shorter circle on which to move. Besides, a defeat of the allies, if they should be defeated, on the island would be vastly more disastrous to them than a repulse from the works on the mainland. It was not likely that General von Blücken would take such an unnecessary risk. In fact, the revolutionists were right. He intended from the outset to make his attack on New York from the northward.

During the winter the British troops in Boston pushed their way out into the interior, especially developing their strength towards the southwest, in the direction of the camp of the allies. Early in March they took possession of Providence,--still a fair and beautiful city, despite the havoc and ruin which the rule of the lawless hordes of the revolution had wrought in it. The revolutionists who were driven out of the city joined those at Worcester and Springfield, and by the middle of March regained the main force in New York by way of Albany and the eastern shore of the Hudson. This left the whole of lower New England practically in the undisputed possession of the allies. They speedily repaired the railway lines leading from Boston towards New York, and thus secured ready communication between the main army and several other important ports and depots of supplies besides New London, at which most of the army’s material had hitherto been landed.

XV.

THE ALLIES ATTACK NEW YORK.

Early in May the outposts of the opposing forces were face to face, and occasional skirmishes had already taken place. The two armies were nearly evenly matched in point of numbers. The allies counted up five hundred and twenty-two thousand men on shore, besides a naval force of about thirty thousand, in one hundred and twenty-two ships of war belonging to one grade or another. Only thirty-five of these vessels were iron-clad, but all carried effective armaments. In addition, the Sound was filled with an innumerable fleet of transports, tugs, and similar craft, acting as tenders on the larger ships.

With the force which had been withdrawn from New England, the revolutionists mustered in New York and Brooklyn about five hundred and fifty thousand men. Whatever reinforcements they received after the first of May were cantoned in Jersey City and Hoboken, to watch the movements of the loyalists up the river at Newburg. It was possible that they might move down the west shore and cut off communication with the South and West, as the allies had already cut off communication to the North and East; and this was to be prevented at all hazards.

On the third of May, the allies carried by assault and at the point of the bayonet a detached earthwork, known as Fort Schwab, which commanded the village of New Rochelle. It was an isolated work, and most of the garrison escaped behind the cover of their lines to the rear. But they did not have time to spike their guns; and during the entire night these pieces continued a harassing fire upon them. The morning of the fourth, attack was resumed along the whole line. All that day the contest raged with inconceivable fury. Again and again were the allies repulsed; again and again were they pushed forward. Their sledge-hammer blows were repeated first at one point, then at another, with persistent and terrible iteration. Twice, after actually capturing the outer line of defences, they were driven back into the open field. They returned to the charge the third time, and nightfall found them in possession of an entire division of this line. The revolutionists, though not trained soldiers, saw that they would be unable to hold the remaining portions, and under cover of the night withdrew to the next line of defence. Though they had suffered a technical defeat, they felt in no way disheartened over the result of the day. They had held the allies in check and had inflicted losses which they knew from the number of their own dead must have been terrible. They still retained possession of a double line of intrenchments stronger than the one which had been taken. They anticipated a delay of some days, if not weeks, before another attempt was made.

That very night, while the revolutionists were sleeping, General von Blücken despatched a force of fifty thousand men across the Sound to Long Island. They landed in silence, and without discovery approached the revolutionary lines so closely that at daybreak they were able to surprise a small earthwork and carry it by mere rush of numbers, without the firing of a single shot. But the surprise was short-lived. The revolutionists sprang to their arms and fought bravely as soon as the allied advance reached their next defence. The alarm was sounded, and assistance from other parts of the Brooklyn lines was despatched to the support of the overmastered socialists. Reinforcements were hurried across the river from New York. The fight surged back and forth, and the roar of conflict which reached New York was as loud and as menacing as that of the preceding day’s battle near New Rochelle had been.

The attack on that side was wholly suspended during this action. The scouts and outposts of the revolutionists reported that transports were to be seen moving in great numbers across the Sound to the Long Island shore, loaded with troops and returning empty. The revolutionary generals hastily decided that Von Blücken must have changed his original intention, owing to the resistance he had met with above the city, and that he was moving on what they felt to be their weakest point, Brooklyn. They must defend that city at all hazards. Over two hundred thousand men were withdrawn from the works to the northward of New York and hurried across to the aid of the Brooklyn garrison.

Not till it was too late did the revolutionists discover that they had been made the victims of a mere feint,--one of the simplest tricks of war, though in this case shrewdly managed. It was true that the transports which were kept plying across the narrow waters of the Sound did, for an hour after daybreak, carry considerable reinforcements to the allied forces which were engaged in the attack on the Brooklyn intrenchments; but this was continued only until General von Blücken felt sure that he had enough men on Long Island completely to engross the enemy’s attention. During all the rest of the morning the transports, which seemed to be full of men on their southward passage and empty on their return, were really bringing back to the mainland more troops than they carried over. Each one, on its southward trip, was manned on the side towards the revolutionists’ lines with dummy figures, among whom a few men moved about to give them the appearance of life. On their return these figures were hidden below the bulwarks, and the wounded, after whom the transports were really sent, were taken below decks where they could not be seen. Several complete regiments, whose services were found to be unnecessary for the success of the feint, were brought back hidden in the same way, and rejoined their divisions before the northern forts.

About the middle of the afternoon the allies drew back from Brooklyn towards Great Neck, and the revolutionists recovered all the ground which had been wrested from them in the first surprise. But their assailants showed no signs of leaving the island, and were kept constantly marching and countermarching so as to produce the conviction that they were in greater numbers than was the fact. This belief, corroborated by the reports of the outposts north of the city as to the immense number of men who had been transported across the Sound, was still further strengthened in the minds of the revolutionists by a fierce attack which a small brigade made on them from the side towards Coney Island during the night. A regiment of German hussars actually dashed upon a camp of over ten thousand men on the extreme southern wing, sabred their way through it, and carried off several prisoners. The boldness of the affair convinced the revolutionists that a strong force had arrived on that side of them, ready to attack them there next morning while the army resting at Great Neck renewed the fight from the northward. The officers at the New York defences reported that only an occasional gun had been fired from the works of the allies there during the day, and that a sham attack had been made on a bastion about the centre of the line, but that very few men were to be seen.

All but about one hundred and fifty thousand of the revolutionary forces were sent to the Brooklyn side; and it was determined to take advantage of the earliest dawn to turn the tables on the foreigners by surprising them, without giving them the opportunity to repeat their tactics of the day before.

A greater surprise than anything they meditated awaited the revolutionists. General von Blücken had been busily, though secretly, at work all that day and night gathering forces at a point just above Mount Vernon and near the centre of the opposing line. Before midnight he had massed there more men than were behind the whole extent of the works in front of him. A show of activity and watchfulness was kept up in the allied camp on Long Island; but before daybreak all the troops sent there to join in the feint had been withdrawn again, except a couple of flying horse-batteries and a single squadron of cavalry, which were ordered to retire whenever attacked and keep out of range,--as they could easily do, owing to the almost total lack of cavalry among the revolutionists with which to pursue them. When the besieged “surprised” the besiegers’ camp, at daybreak the next morning, they found only empty tents and smouldering watch-fires which had been burning untended for several hours.

They were allowed scant time to reflect upon the probable meaning of this trick. Before they had really discovered what had happened, from the allied parallels beyond New Rochelle a single gun boomed forth in the clear morning air. It was Von Blücken’s signal for a general attack. A thousand cannon mouths answered its summons, and told the revolutionists on Long Island that deadly work was beginning for their friends in the weakened intrenchments above the city. They strove with desperate speed to return in time to be of assistance; but they were not able.

This attack was no feint. In overwhelming numbers the allies poured over the earthworks which confronted them. Redoubt after redoubt, breastwork after breastwork, fort after fort was carried at the point of the bayonet. The resistance made was desperate, and the retreat sullen and slow. But the attenuated line of defenders at no moment was able to stop or even delay the advance of the solid masses of men which were hurled against it, first at one point, then at another. The carnage was frightful. Whole regiments on both sides were literally swept out of existence. But not for an instant did the attacking columns waver. On and on they pressed: now charging with a rush like an avalanche upon some fortification in which a more than usually stubborn resistance was being offered them; now moving in compact and splendid order along the routes which, long before he had ordered the assault, had been marked down for them to follow by the brilliant strategist commanding them.

It was not yet noon when Von Blücken, coming up from the rear, found the enemy in flight from a redoubt near the centre of their last line of defence, and the flag of his own Fatherland waving above it. Riding to the fort, he ordered its guns to be instantly turned in either direction upon the works which still held out. The revolutionist forces from Brooklyn, hurrying pell-mell through the city, on their arrival at the front found the allies in full possession of a half-dozen portions of the last line of works, with guns already mounted in them which commanded the city itself. Nowhere was a tenable position left in their hands. Had the allies been desirous of doing so, they could at once have entered the city. There was no power which could prevent them from taking possession in the morning. It was seen that the city must be evacuated.

All night the ferry-boats, which offered the only means of escape to westward and southward, were kept hurrying back and forth between the city and the New Jersey shore, loaded with the retreat. Slowly the rear-guard of the revolutionists drew backward down the city as the troops below crossed the river. In almost every block from which they retreated they left “infernal machines” of more or less elaborate construction, calculated to explode after a set time and destroy everything about them, or to burst into flames after the same interval and fire the buildings in which they were placed. Some fires were set directly by impatient hands, and it was not long after midnight that the allied sentries reported the city in flames.

General Wood, who had charge of the army during the night, was notified, and rode forward to an eminence from which he could see the city, by this time casting a brilliant light upon its own destruction. He saw that the fire was confined, thus far, to the upper portion, while the lower streets were still dark, and evidently held by the revolutionists. He surmised at once that they were retreating to Jersey City. Reports from the river bank soon verified this belief.

But what were they going to do with the city? Were they simply burning the upper portion, so as to oppose a real wall of fire to the allied advance, till they could safely complete their retreat? Or were they determined to destroy the entire city rather than have it fall into the allies’ possession? If any attempt should be made to save it from destruction by sending soldiers to extinguish the flames already raging, was it not likely that they would run great risk of being destroyed by scores and hundreds in the explosion of the “infernal machines,” which were the favorite weapons of the revolutionists, and which they had no doubt scattered thickly along the route the troops would have to take?

General Wood sat on his horse for some moments, watching the flames. Turning at last to a staff officer beside him, he remarked: “They are going to destroy behind them all of the place that will burn. I doubt if our men will find much shelter left them.”

“The fire might possibly be checked if we should go at it now,” responded the officer.

General Wood replied with abrupt decision: “That has been an Irish city for forty years. It has been worse than Dublin. It has been more dangerous to England than all Ireland itself, because it has been beyond our reach. For the last dozen or twenty years it has been the rottenest centre of socialism in the whole world. I would not risk the life of a single honest and decent soldier to save the whole Sodom from utter destruction!”

All night the sentries on picket duty along the allied lines watched the flames extending and the light growing in intensity. Occasional explosions from the midst of burning areas showed that General Wood had been correct in his suspicion that deadly mines lay in wait for any who might try to extinguish the conflagration. At daybreak he reported the condition of affairs to General von Blücken. The commander approved his action, but ordered several of the smaller vessels to reconnoitre immediately the Hell-Gate passage of the East River and report if that route was practicable for transports or war-ships.

Admiral Seymour had anticipated the need of this knowledge the moment the burning and abandonment of the city was reported to him, and at the earliest dawn three small vessels--two of them tugs and one a light-armored cruiser--had pushed through the Gate and descended safely as far as Blackwell’s Island. Their report was brought to General von Blücken by Admiral Seymour in person, shortly after seven o’clock in the morning. A force of seventy-five thousand men was instantly ordered to embark and to proceed down the river to the Battery. If that was deserted, they were to push across the Hudson and attempt a landing on the New Jersey shore. Before the transports started, about twenty-five of the lighter-armored and swifter of the fighting vessels in the fleet steamed in advance down the narrow East River to clear the way and draw the fire of any of the enemy who might still linger in their retreat. At the same time a slow and cautious advance was made by the army from the North directly upon the burning city.

It was soon found that the entire upper half of the town was in hopeless ruins. But as morning approached, the retreat had become more of a flight, and less time had been left the hurrying revolutionists to devote to destruction. All through the lower half of the city buildings were found on fire, but there had been no such universal incendiarism as had caused the obliteration of every structure above Central Park. No apparatus for putting out fires had been left in working order in the city; but by the demolition of surrounding buildings the allies succeeded in confining these detached conflagrations to narrow limits, within which they eventually burned themselves out.