Valley Forge

The March to Valley Forge
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Baron von Steuben
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Von Steuben and Washington at Valley Forge
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After Burgoyne's defeat at Saratoga, many
Americans believed that the war would soon be over. General
Washington, however, did not share that view. French help might
be in the offing, but no one knew when it would arrive. In the
meantimes, he reminded Congress that the Continental Army still needed
funds and supplies. Congress ignored all his urgent
requests. The result was a long and dreadful winter at Valley
Forge.
Valley Forge was twenty miles from
Philadelphia, where General Howe and his army were comfortably housed
for the winter. Throughout December 1777, Washington's men
labored to build the huts and cabins they would need for their winter
encampment. While two officers were assigned to share quarters, a
dozen enlisted men were expected to crowd into a 14 x 16 foot
hut. Rations were a problem from the start. Technically,
each man was entitled to raw or cured meat, yet most soldiers at Valley
Forge lived on a diet of fire cakes, made from flour and water baked
over coals or over the fire on a stick. Blankets were scarce,
coats were rare, and firewood was precious. An army doctor named
Waldo summed up conditions when he wrote: "Poor food--hard
lodgings--cold weather--fatigue--nasty clothes--nasty cookery--vomit
half my time--smoked out of my senses--the devil's in it--I can't
endure it."
Dr. Waldo, however, did endure it, as did the
soldiers he tended daily: half-naked, barefoot, dirty young men,
often covered with sores and lice. The enlisted men who survived
the winter at Valley Forge were strangers to luxury even in
peacetime. Most were from the humblest social classes: farm
laborers, servants, apprentices, even former slaves. They were
exactly the sort of person most Americans believed ought to fight the
war. But if poverty had driven them into the army, a commitment
to see the war through kept them there. The contrast between
their own patriotism and the apparent indifference of the civilian
population made many of these soldiers bitter.
What these soldiers deparately needed, in
addition to new clothes, good food, and hot bath, was professional
military training, and that is the one thing they got. Beginning
in the spring of 1778, there arrived in the camp an unlikely volunteer
from the small European country of Prussia [part of modern Germany], Baron
Friderich von Steuben. The Prussian was
almost fifty years
old, dignified, elegantly dressed, with a dazzling gold and diamond
medal always on his chest. Like most foreign volunteers, many of
whom plagued Washington more than they helped him, the baron claimed to
be an aristocrat with vast military experience, having held high rank
in a European army. In truth, he had purchased his title only a
short time before fleeing his homeland in bankruptcy, and he had only
been a captain in the Prussian army. A penniless refugee, von
Steuben hoped to receive a military pension for his service in the
American army. He had not, however, exaggerated his talent as a
military drillmaster. All spring, the baron could be seen
drilling Washington's troops, alternately shouting with rage and
applauding with delight. Washington had little patience with most
of the foreign volunteers who joined the American cause, but he
considered von Steuben a most unexpected and invaluable surprise.
In the spring of 1778, Washington received the
heartening news that France had formally recognized the independence of
the United States. He immediately declared a day of thanks,
ordering cannon to be fired in honor of the new alliance. That
day the officers feasted with their commander. American diplomacy
had triumphed. Washington hoped that the combined forces of
France and America would soon bring victory as well.
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Monmouth (June 1778) and Stalemate

Joseph Brant
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George Rogers Clark
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The French presence in the war did not
immediately affect the strategies of British or American
leaders. English generals in the North displayed caution after
Burgoyne's surrender, and Washington waited impatiently for signs that
the French fleet would come to his aid. The result was a
stalemate. After 1778, most of the fighting would take place in
the southern colonies, where the British would mount a major campaign
in the Carolinas.
The British had a new commander. General
Sir Henry Clinton replaced William Howe as the overall leader of
the
British army in North America. Clinton knew that the French fleet
could easily blockade the Delaware River leading to Philadelphia, and
this cut off supplied to British forces in that city. So, when
warm weather returned, he moved his (formerly Howe's) army out of
Philadelphia and return to New York City.
Clinton's slow-moving caravan made an
irresistable target for the Americans, and General Washington took
advantage of the opportunity to attack. The British force was
larger than the attacking Americans, but Washington saw a tactical
advantage if he were to attack when the British force moved through a
narrow neck of land at Monmouth, New Jersey, on the way to New
York. The smaller area, he knew, would limit the maneuverability
of British forces, thereby negating their advantage of their superior
size.
The attack at Monmouth should have worked, but
Washington trusted the initial attack to an unreliable Virginian, General
Charles Lee, who ordered his men to open fire on
the British,
but
when the British army began to return fire, Lee retreated. When
Washington arrived on the scene, American troops were fleeing before
the advancing British army. Washington rallied the retreating
troops and made them reform their lines. Trained by von Steuben,
the men responded well, moving forward with speed and driving the
redcoats back. Although the Americans claimed the victory at
Monmouth, it was not the decisive victory Washington had hoped
for. Had his plan been executed, he could have captured the main
British army and ended the war that day. Instead, the British
made it back to New York City, where Washington could only sit and wait
for them to come out again.
Monmouth was only the first of several missed
opportunities that summer of 1778. In August, the French and
Americans launched their first joint attack at a British base at
Newport, Rhode Island. At the last minute, however, the French Admiral
D'Estaing decided the casualty rate would be too high. He
abruptly gathered up his own men and sailed to safety on the open sea,
leaving the American troops to retreat as best they could.
Throughout the fall and winter of 1778,
Washington waited in vain for French naval support for a major
campaign. Meanwhile, news from the western front did little to
improve his morale. In Kentucky and western Virginia, Indian
attacks had decimated many American settlements. The driving
force behind these attacks was a British official named Harry
Hamilton,
nicknamed the "Hair Buyer" because of the bounties he paid for American
scalps. In October Hamilton led Indian troops from the Great
Lakes tribes into the Illinois-Indiana region and captured the fort at Vincennes.
The American counter-attack was
organized by a stocky
young frontiersman, George Rogers Clark, whose own enthusiasm
for
scalping earned him the nickname "Long Knife." To Washington's
relief, Clark and his volunteer forces managed to drive the British
from Vincennes.
Border conflict with Britain's Indian allies
remained a major problem, and when loyalist troops joined these
Indians, the danger increased. When patriot General John
Sullivan's regular army was badly defeated by Mohawk chief
Thayendanega, known to the Americans as Joseph Brant, and local
loyalists, Sullivan took revenge by burning forty Indian
villages. It was an act of violence and cruelty that deeply
shocked and shamed General Washington.
Spring and summer of 1779 passed and
still Washington waited for the French navy's cooperation.
Admiral D'Estaing and his fleet had sailed for the West Indies under
orders to protect valuable French possessions in the Caribbean and, if
possible, to seize English possessions there. News of D'Estaing's
departure spurred a new wave of discipline problems among Washington's
idle troops. Mutinies and desertions increased. From his
winter headquarters in Morristown Heights, New Jersey, Washington wrote
to von Steuben: "The prospect, my dear Baron, is gloomy, and the
storm thickens." The real storm, however, was raging not in New
Jersey but in the Carolinas.
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