The Adventures of a Revolutionary Soldier – Part 3

Joseph Plumb Martin’s fascinating Narrative of a Revolutionary Soldier, continued.

Continuing this essay series on the fascinating Revolutionary War soldier Joseph Plumb Martin, told through his A Narrative of a Revolutionary Soldier, this essay explores his descriptions of the particularly harsh winter of 1779-80, and his involvement in the Battle of Yorktown that ended the war.

Martin describes the particularly harsh winter of 1779-80 as follows:

Sometimes we could procure an armful of buckwheat straw to lie upon, which was deemed a luxury. Provisions, as usual, took up but a small part of our time, though much of our thoughts … We arrived on our wintering ground in the latter part of the month of December, and once more, like the wild animals, began to make preparations to build us a “city for habitation.” The soldiers, when immediately going about the building of their winter huts, would always endeavour to provide themselves with such tools as were necessary for the business, (it is no concern of the reader’s, as I conceive, by what means they procured their tools,) such as crosscut-saws, handsaws, frows, augers, &c. to expedite the erection and completion of their dwelling places. Do not blame them too much, gentle reader, if you should chance to make a shrewd Yankee guess how theydid procure them; remember, they were in distress, and you know when a man is in that condition, he will not be over scrupulous how he obtains relief, so he does obtain it … The winter of 1779 and ‘80 was very severe; it has been denominated “the hard winter,” and hard it was to the army in particular, in more respects than one. The period of the revolution has repeatedly been styled “the times that tried men’s souls.” I often found that those times not only tried men’s souls, but their bodies too; I know they did mine, and that effectually … Soon after this there came on several severe snowstorms. At one time it snowed the greater part of four days successively, and there fell nearly as many feet deep of snow, and here was the keystone of the arch of starvation. We were absolutely, literally starved;— I do solemnly declare that I did not put a single morsel of victuals into my mouth for four days and as many nights, except a little black birch bark which I gnawed off a stick of wood, if that can be called victuals. I saw several of the men roast their old shoes and eat them, and I was afterwards informed by one of the officer’s waiters, that some of the officers killed and ate a favourite little dog that belonged to one of them.

And brushes with loyalists:

The guard kept at Woodbridge, being so small, and so far from the troops, and so near the enemy that they were obliged to be constantly on the alert. We had three different houses that we occupied alternately, during the night; the first was an empty house, the second the parson’s house, and the third a farmer’s house; we had to remove from one to the other of these houses three times every night, from fear of being surprised by the enemy. There was no trusting the inhabitants, for many of them were friendly to the British, and we did not know who were or who were not, and consequently, were distrustful of them all … After we had visited these sentinels and were returning, we passed the parson’s house; there was a muddy plash in the road nearly opposite the house, and as it happened, the man with me passed on the side next to the house, and I passed on the other; after we had got clear of the water and had come together again, he told me there were British soldiers lying in the garden and door yard; I asked him if he was sure of it, he said he was, for, said he, “I was near enough to have reached them with my hand, had there been no fence between.” We stopped and consulted what was best for us to do. I was for going back and giving them a starter, but my comrade declined, he thought it would be best to return to the guard and inform the officers what we had discovered, and let them act their pleasure. We accordingly did so, when the Captain of the guard sent down two horsemen that attended upon the guard to serve in such circumstances and to carry and fetch intelligence, to ascertain whether it was as we had reported; the horsemen finding it true, instead of returning and informing the officers, as they were ordered to, fired their carbines, one into the house, the ball lodging in the bedpost where the parson and his wife were in bed, and the other into the garden or door yard; the British finding they were discovered, walked off with themselves without even returning a single shot.

Martin reflects on the death of a particular young soldier:

[T]he sergeant stationed a sentinel at that place, and prepared for them. Just as had been predicted, about the time the moon was setting, which was about ten o’clock, they came, and at the same point. The first sentinel that occupied that post had not stood out his trick, before he saw them coming; he immediately hailed them by the usual question, “who comes there?” they answered him, that if he would not discharge his piece, they would not hurt him, but if he did they would kill him. The sentinel being true to his trust, paid no regard to their threats, but fired his piece and ran for the house to alarm the guard; in his way he had to cross a hedge fence, in passing which, he got entangled in the bushes, as it was supposed, and the enemy coming up thrust a bayonet through him, they then inflicted twelve more wounds upon him with bayonets, and rushed on for the house, to massacre the remainder of the guard, but they had taken the alarm and left the house … Unfortunate young man! I could not restrain my tears, when I saw him next day, with his breast like a sieve, caused by the wounds. He lost his own life by endeavouring to save the lives of others; massacred by his own countrymen, who ought to have been fighting in the common cause of the country, instead of murdering him. I have been more particular in relating this circumstance, that the reader may be informed what people there were in the times of the revolution.

Martin describes at length how close his regiment came to rebelling against their own leadership:

The men were now exasperated beyond endurance; they could not stand it any longer; they saw no other alternative but to starve to death, or break up the army, give all up and go home. This was a hard matter for the soldiers to think upon; they were truly patriotic; they loved their country, and they had already suffered every thing short of death in its cause; and now, after such extreme hardships to give up all, was too much; but to starve to death was too much also. What was to be done?—Here was the army starved and naked, and there their country sitting still and expecting the army to do notable things while fainting from sheer starvation. All things considered, the army was not to be blamed. Reader, suffer what we did and you will say so too. We had borne as long as human nature could endure, and to bear longer we considered folly. Accordingly, one pleasant day, the men spent the most of their time upon the parade, growling like soreheaded dogs; at evening roll-call they began to show their dissatisfaction, by snapping at the officers, and acting contrary to their orders; after their dismissal from the parade, the officers went, as usual, to their quarters, except the Adjutant, who happened to remain, giving details for next day’s duty to the orderly sergeants, or some other business, when the men (none of whom had left the parade) began to make him sensible that they had something in train; he said something that did not altogether accord with the soldiers’ ideas of propriety, one of the men retorted, the Adjutant called him a mutinous rascal, or some such epithet, and then left the parade. This man, then stamping the butt of his musket upon the ground, as much as to say, I am in a passion, called out, “who will parade with me?” The whole regiment immediately fell in and formed. We had made no plans for our future operations, but while we were consulting how to proceed, the fourth regiment, which lay on our left, formed, and came and paraded with us. We now concluded to go in a body to the other two regiments that belonged to our brigade, and induce them to join with us; these regiments lay forty or fifty rods in front of us, with a brook and bushes between. We did not wish to have any one in particular to command, lest he might be singled out for a Court Martial to exercise its demency upon; we therefore gave directions to the drummers to give certain signals on the drums; at the first signal we shouldered our arms, at the second we faced, at the third we began our march to join with the other two regiments, and went off with music playing. By this time our officers had obtained knowledge of our military manœuvreing, and some of them had run across the brook, by a nearer way than we had taken, (it being now quite dark,) and informed the officers of those regiments of our approach and supposed intentions. The officers ordered their men to parade as quick as possible without arms; when that was done, they stationed a camp guard, that happened to be near at hand, between the men and their huts, which prevented them from entering and taking their arms, which they were very anxious to do. Col. Meigs of the sixth regiment, exerted himself to prevent his men from obtaining their arms, until he received a severe wound in his side by a bayonet in the scuffle, which cooled his courage at the time. He said he had always considered himself the soldier’s friend and thought the soldiers regarded him as such; but had reason now to conclude he might be mistaken. Col. Meigs was truly an excellent man and a brave officer;—the man, whoever he was, that wounded him, doubtless, had no particular grudge against him, it was dark, and the wound was given, it is probable, altogether unintentionally. Col. Meigs was afterwards Governor of Ohio, and Postmaster General … When we found the officers had been too crafty for us we returned with grumbling instead of music, the officers following in the rear growling in concert. One of the men in the rear calling out, “halt in front,” the officers seized upon him like wolves on a sheep, and dragged him out of the ranks, intending to make an example of him, for being a “mutinous rascal,” but the bayonets of the men pointing at their breasts as thick as hatchel teeth, compelled them quickly to relinquish their hold of him. We marched back to our own parade and then formed again; the officers now began to coax us to disperse to our quarters, but that had no more effect upon us than their threats. One of them slipped away into the bushes, and after a short time returned, counterfeiting to have come directly from head-quarters; said he, “there is good news for you, boys, there has just arrived a large drove of cattle for the army;” but this piece of finesse would not avail; all the answer he received for his labour was, “go and butcher them,” or some such slight expression. The Lieutenant-Colonel of the fourth regiment now came on to the parade; he could persuade his men, he said, to go peaceably to their quarters; after a good deal of palaver, he ordered them to shoulder their arms, but the men taking no notice of him or his order, he fell into a violent passion, threatening them with the bitterest punishment, if they did not immediately obey his orders; after spending a whole quiver of the arrows of his rhetoric, he again ordered them to shoulder their arms, but he met with the same success that he did at the first trial, he therefore gave up the contest as hopeless, and left us and walked off to his quarters, chewing the cud of resentment all the way, and how much longer I neither knew nor cared. The rest of the officers, after they found that they were likely to meet with no better success than the Colonel, walked off likewise to their huts … While we were under arms, the Pennsylvania troops, who lay not far from us, were ordered under arms and marched off their parades upon, as they were told, a secret expedition; they had surrounded us, unknown to either us or themselves, (except the officers,) at length, getting an item of what was going forward, they inquired of some of the stragglers, what was going on among the Yankees? Being informed that they had mutinied on account of the scarcity of provisions,—”Let us join them,” said they, “let us join the Yankees, they are good fellows, and have no notion of lying here like fools and starving.” Their officers needed no further hinting; the troops were quickly ordered back to their quarters, from fear that they would join in the same song with the Yankees.—We knew nothing of all this for some time afterwards … After our officers had left us to our own option, we dispersed to our huts, and laid by our arms of our own accord, but the worm of hunger knawing so keen kept us from being entirely quiet, we therefore still kept upon the parade in groups, venting our spleen at our country and government, then at our officers, and then at ourselves for our imbecility, in staying there and starving in detail for an ungrateful people, who did not care what became of us, so they could enjoy themselves while we were keeping a cruel enemy from them. While we were thus venting our gall against we knew not who, Colonel Stewart of the Pennsylvania line, with two or three other officers of that line came to us and questioned us respecting our unsoldierlike conduct, (as he termed it;) we told him he needed not to be informed of the cause of our present conduct, but that we had borne till we considered further forbearance pusillanimity; that the times, instead of mending, were growing worse, and finally, that we were determined not to bear or forbear much longer. We were unwilling to desert the cause of our country, when in distress; that we knew her cause involved our own; but what signified our perishing in the act of saving her, when that very act would inevitably destroy us, and she must finally perish with us. “Why do you not go to your officers?” said he, “and complain in a regular manner;” we told him we had repeatedly complained to them, but they would not hear us. “Your officers,” said he, “are gentlemen, they will attend to you, I know them, they cannot refuse to hear you. But,” said he, “your officers suffer as much as you do, we all suffer, the officers have no money to purchase supplies with any more than the private men have, and if there is nothing in the public store we must fare as hard as you. I have no other resources than you have to depend upon; I had not a sixpence to purchase a partridge, that was offered me the other day. Besides,” said he, “you know not how much you injure your own characters by such conduct.—You Connecticut troops have won immortal honour to yourselves the winter past, by your perseverance, patience, and bravery, and now you are shaking it off at your heels. But I will go and see your officers, and talk with them myself.” He went, but what the result was, I never knew.—This Colonel Stewart was an excellent officer, much beloved and respected by the troops of the line he belonged to … Our stir did us some good in the end, for we had provisions directly after, so we had no great cause for complaint for some time.

Martin was promoted to sergeant:

Agreeable to the arrangement between my former commander and my new Captain, I was appointed a sergeant in this corps, which was as high an office as I ever obtained in the army … I think I did use my best abilities to perform the duties of the office according to my best knowledge and judgment. Indeed, I can say at this late hour of my life, that my conscience never did, and I trust never will accuse me of any failure in my duty to my country, but, on the contrary, I always fulfilled my engagements to her, however she failed in fulfilling her’s with me. The case was much like that of a loyal and faithful husband, and a light heeled wanton of a wife. But I forgive her and hope she will do better in future.

Martin escapes British troops, perhaps with an assist from a childhood friend:

The commander of the enemy came to the fence and the first compliment I received from him was a stroke with his hanger [a type of sword] across my leg, just under or below the knee-pan, which laid the bone bare. I could see him through the fence and knew him; he was, when we were boys, one of my most familiar playmates, was with me, a messmate, in the campaign of 1776, had enlisted during the war in 1777, but sometime before this, had deserted to the enemy, having been coaxed off by an old harridan, to whose daughter he had taken a fancy; the old hag of a mother, living in the vicinity of the British, easily inveigled him away. He was a smart active fellow, and soon got command of a gang of Refugee-cowboy plunderers. When he had had his hack at my shins, I began to think it was “neck or nothing,” and making one desperate effort, I cleared my foot by leaving my shoe behind, before he could have the second stroke at me. He knew me as well as I did him, for as soon as he saw me clear of the fence and out of the reach of his sword, he called me by name, and told me to surrender myself and he would give me good quarters;—thought I, you will wait till I ask them of you. I sprang up and run till I came to my party who were about a hundred rods ahead, waiting to see how I should come off. The enemy never fired a shot at me all the time I was running from them, although nearly the whole of their party was standing on the other side of the fence when I started from it. Whether his conscience smote him and he prevented them from firing at me; or, whether they were unprepared, not having had time to reload their pieces in their pursuit of us, or from what other cause, I know not, but they never interfered with me while I was running across the field, fifty or sixty rods, in open sight of them. Thus I escaped; and this was the only time the enemy drew blood from me during the whole war.

Martin describes his first wartime payment, which didn’t come until 1781:

[W]e were ordered immediately on board vessels, then lying at the landing place, and a little after sunrise found ourselves at Philadelphia … While we stayed here we drew a few articles of clothing, consisting of a few tow shirts, some overalls and a few pairs of silk-and-oakum stockings; and here, or soon after, we each of us received a MONTH’S PAY, in specie, borrowed, as I was informed, by our French officers from the officers in the French army. This was the first that could be called money, which we had received as wages since the year ‘76, or that we ever did receive till the close of the war, or indeed, ever after, as wages.

Martin’s regiment is visited by General George Washington as they prepare for the Battle of Yorktown, which results in the British surrender:

We had not proceeded far in the business, before the Engineers ordered us to desist and remain where we were, and be sure not to straggle a foot from the spot while they were absent from us. In a few minutes after their departure, there came a man alone to us, having on a surtout, as we conjectured, (it being exceeding dark,) and inquired for the Engineers. We now began to be a little jealous for our safety, being alone and without arms, and within forty rods of the British trenches. The stranger inquired what troops we were; talked familiarly with us a few minutes, when, being informed which way the officers had gone, he went off in the same direction, after strictly charging us, in case we should be taken prisoners, not to discover to the enemy what troops we were. We were obliged to him for his kind advice, but we considered ourselves as standing in no great need of it; for we knew as well as he did, that Sappers and Miners were allowed no quarters, at least, are entitled to none, by the laws of warfare, and of course should take care, if taken, and the enemy did not find us out, not to betray our own secret. In a short time the Engineers returned and the afore-mentioned stranger with them; they discoursed together sometime, when, by the officers often calling him “Your Excellency,” we discovered that it was Gen. Washington. Had we dared, we might have cautioned him for exposing himself so carelessly to danger at such a time, and doubtless he would have taken it in good part if we had. But nothing ill happened to either him or ourselves … The troops of the line were there ready with entrenching tools and began to entrench, after General Washington had struck a few blows with a pickaxe, a mere ceremony, that it might be said “Gen. Washington with his own hands first broke ground at the siege of Yorktown … [O]ur people had sent to the western side of this marsh a detachment to make a number of fires, by which, and our men often passing before the fires, the British were led to imagine that we were about some secret mischief there, and consequently directed their whole fire to that quarter, while we were entrenching literally under their noses … A simultaneous discharge of all the guns in the line followed; the French troops accompanying it with “Huzza for the Americans!” It was said that the first shell sent from our batteries, entered an elegant house, formerly owned or occupied by the Secretary of State under the British government, and burnt directly over a table surrounded by a large party of British officers at dinner, killing and wounding a number of them;—this was a warm day to the British … After we had finished our second line of trenches there was but little firing on either side. After lord Cornwallis had failed to get off, upon the seventeenth day of October, (a rather unlucky day for the British) he requested a cessation of hostilities for, I think, twenty-four hours, when commissioners from both armies met at a house between the lines, to agree upon articles of capitulation. We waited with anxiety the termination of the armistice, and as the time drew nearer our anxiety increased. The time at length arrived,—it passed, and all remained quiet.—And now we concluded that we had obtained what we had taken so much pains for,—for which we had encountered so many dangers, and had so anxiously wished. Before night we were informed that the British had surrendered and that the siege was ended … The next day we were ordered to put ourselves in as good order as our circumstances would admit, to see (what was the completion of our present wishes) the British army march out and stack their arms … The British paid the Americans, seemingly, but little attention as they passed them, but they eyed the French with considerable malice depicted in their countenances.

In the next and final essay in this series, we’ll explore Martin’s narrative of his life after the Revolutionary War ended.