Battle of Red Bank, Fort Mercer (1777)

The Battle of Red Bank was fought between the United States and Great Britain at Fort Mercer on the east bank of the Delaware River. Hessian forces carried out two assaults on the fort, but suffered heavy casualties and were forced to retreat. The American victory boosted morale and allowed them to retain control of the river for several more weeks.

Overview

Fort Mercer and Fort Mifflin guarded the approach to Philadelphia via the Delaware River. Despite the British capture of Philadelphia on September 26, 1777, the two forts blocked the transportation of supplies up the river to the city.

General William Howe and his brother, Admiral Richard Howe, were determined to eliminate the forts and establish supply lines. Fort Mercer, situated on the eastern shore of the Delaware, was their initial target.

On October 22, Colonel Carl von Donop led 2,000 Hessians in an attack on Fort Mercer. The initial assault successfully overran the outer works but halted at the abatis outside the main fortification. The Americans unleashed a heavy barrage of musket fire while American ships in the river subjected the Hessians to deadly cannon fire from the flank and rear, forcing them to retreat.

Hessian casualties were significant, including Colonel von Donop, who suffered a fatal leg wound during the engagement. American casualties were comparatively lower, with approximately 14 killed and 23 wounded.

Following the capture of Fort Mifflin on November 15, the American survivors sought refuge at Fort Mercer. The loss of Fort Mifflin allowed British warships to prepare for a final assault on Fort Mercer. Instead of waiting for the inevitable surrender of his fort and men, Colonel Christopher Greene, the commander of Fort Mercer, withdrew his garrison on November 21.

The British established supply lines to Philadelphia; however, the victory at Fort Mercer boosted American morale and dampened Hessian enthusiasm for participating in the British war effort.

Essential Facts

Also Known As: Battle of Fort Mercer.
Date: October 22, 1777.
Location: Fort Mercer, on the eastern shore of the Delaware River, in present-day Gloucester County, New Jersey.
Participants: United States of America and Great Britain.
Key American Leaders: Christopher Greene, John Hazelwood.
Key British Leaders: Carl von Donop.
Who Won: The United States won the Battle of Red Bank.
Part of: Philadelphia Campaign, American Revolutionary War.

Significance

The Battle of Red Bank is important to American History because the capture of Fort Mifflin and the evacuation of Fort Mercer allowed the British to establish new supply lines, securing their hold on Philadelphia for the winter of 1777–1778.

History

During the fall and winter of 1776-1777, General William Howe planned an expedition to capture Philadelphia in the spring of 1777. After Howe received approval from his superiors in London, the Royal Navy transported his troops from New York City to Head of Elk, Maryland. Aware of the threat to Philadelphia, General George Washington mobilized his army and marched southward from New Jersey. The two armies fought at Brandywine on September 11, 1777, and the Americans were forced to retreat. Howe proceeded to capture Philadelphia on September 26.

British Supply Lines

Following the occupation of Philadelphia, Howe and his brother, Admiral Richard Howe, sought to establish supply lines to New York City. The most effective means of doing this was by establishing a water route up the Delaware River.

Philadelphia’s food and supply situation was desperate, and prices were rising.
Foraging outside the city was dangerous for British troops.
British forces had limited rations to feed their army and many prisoners.

American forces worked to block British ships from delivering supplies to their forces in Philadelphia.

Supplies could be transported by land from Head of Elk to Philadelphia.
American forces could easily disrupt British supply lines on land.
Water transport became essential for the British to maintain their occupation of Philadelphia.

General Washington believed that if the American defenses on the river held, the British would face serious problems.

Washington hoped that stopping British supplies by water would make it easy to cut them off by land.
He warned that taking Philadelphia might become Howe’s downfall.
Washington believed Howe’s control of the city depended on keeping water routes open.

American Defenses on the Delaware River

The American defenses on the river included:

The Billingsport Redoubt on the east shore of the Delaware River. A double line of chevaux-de-frise, designed by Thaddeus Kosciuszko, stretched across the river from the fort to Billing’s Island.
Just upriver, a triple line of about 30 chevaux-de-frise stretched from Mud Island to Red Bank, just below the mouth of the Schuylkill River.
Fort Mifflin on Mud Island guarded one end of the line.
Fort Mercer at Red Bank guarded the opposite end and sat on the eastern side of the Delaware River.

The Pennsylvania State Navy, under the command of Commodore John Hazelwood, was further upriver, near the mouth of the Schuylkill River. It included the frigate Montgomery, 17 smaller ships, two floating batteries, 14 fire ships, and several fire rafts.

The frigate Delaware, armed with 32 guns, ran aground on the Jersey shore on September 7, 1777.
British batteries destroyed the Delaware by setting it on fire.
The crew of the Delaware surrendered after the ship burned.

AHC Note

The chevaux-de-frise consisted of heavy timber frames filled with stones and sunk beneath the water.
Each structure held wooden beams tipped with iron points.
The beams slanted upward and ended about four feet below the water level at low tide.
The pointed beams faced downstream to damage ships trying to pass over them.

Billingsport Redoubt

The Billingsport Redoubt was unfinished and lightly defended. On September 28, 1777, Lieutenant Colonel Thomas Stirling led troops, including the 42nd Highlanders, toward Chester.

The next day, September 29, the Royal Navy ferried his troops across the Delaware River.
The Pennsylvania State Navy disrupted the operation by sending three fire ships downriver.
British warships were towed out of danger, but ferrying resumed after a one-day delay.

On October 2, Stirling led the British troops in the assault on the Billingsport Redoubt, attacking it from the rear.

Advancing British forces encountered and defeated a group of American militia.
The American garrison, led by Colonel William Bradford, spiked its guns, burned the barracks, and retreated.
Captain Hamond cut through the chevaux-de-frise after the Americans fled.
American rowing galleys attacked but were driven off by British warships.
Six British ships passed through the cleared opening.

British Preparations

The fall of the Billingsport Redoubt allowed the British to begin preparations for attacks on Fort Mifflin and Fort Mercer.

On October 3, 1777, Captain John Montresor and Captain James Moncrief of the Royal Engineers identified locations for British batteries.
General Charles Cornwallis led British and Hessian Grenadiers down the west bank of the Delaware River.
They established a base camp for patrols and construction crews.

Province Island and Carpenter’s Island near Fort Mifflin were key strategic points. These islands were just south of the Schuylkill River’s mouth and were separated from the shore by deep creeks.

Americans had damaged the surrounding dikes, flooding the islands, which made it difficult for the British to move artillery into position.
Royal Engineers planned to build two or three gun batteries on the islands, as close as 150 yards from Fort Mifflin’s western wall.

Captain Montresor had worked on Fort Mifflin before the war and knew its design flaws.

The fort’s western wall was incomplete and made of logs and earth.
Montresor believed the fort could be easily destroyed.

British Forces Approach American Defenses on the Delaware River

On October 5, 1777, William Peery, the Captain of an independent company of 100 men in Continental service guarding Cape Henlopen, reported that British ships were moving in Delaware Bay.

Peery wrote a report to Caesar Rodney that 36 British ships sailed past Cape Henlopen up the bay in the morning.
He also reported that observers at the lighthouse saw 47 more ships in the evening sailing toward Cape Henlopen.

AHC Notes

Caesar Rodney (1728–1784) — Rodney was a Delaware politician, soldier, peace officer, and judge. He won election to the colonial legislature for many years and served as speaker. He joined the Stamp Act Congress in 1765 and later led Delaware’s Committee of Safety. He famously made a long ride through rain and storms to reach Philadelphia on July 2, 1776, enabling Delaware to support independence, and later served as President of Delaware.

The ships were part of Admiral Howe’s British fleet, which had been at sea for more than a month after leaving the Head of Elk. Although the fleet could have sailed up the Delaware River two months earlier, Captain Andrew Snape Hamond of the Roebuck had persuaded Admiral Howe not to attempt the passage.

The British fleet sailed past Bombay Hook on October 9, then past New Castle on October 11.
Howe’s flagship reached the area off Chester on October 12, but did not continue because of obstructions in the river.
The fortifications above Chester were the same defenses Captain Hamond had warned the Howes about.

The main British fleet anchored in the Delaware River between Reedy Island and New Castle, but needed to open the river to shipping to maintain their hold on Philadelphia.

American Garrison at Fort Mercer

Fort Mercer was a large earthwork, with most of its cannons aimed at the river. The fort was protected on the land side by a ditch and abatis (a barrier of sharpened logs). As British forces moved into the area, General Washington ordered Brigadier General James Varnum to replace the militia at Fort Mercer with seasoned Continental troops. Varnum sent Colonel Christopher Greene and roughly 600 soldiers, including:

Greene’s First Rhode Island Regiment.
Colonel Israel Angell and the Second Rhode Island Regiment.
Captain Jotham Drury and his company from John Crane’s Continental artillery regiment.
New Jersey Militia, although not as many arrived as expected.

AHC Notes

Christopher Greene (1737–1781) — Greene was a Rhode Island businessman, legislator, and Continental Army officer during the American Revolutionary War. He served in the Kentish Guards, took part in the siege of Boston, joined Benedict Arnold’s expedition to Quebec, and endured captivity after the assault on Quebec. Greene later defended Fort Mercer, commanded African American troops at the Battle of Rhode Island, and served under General George Washington before his death in 1781.
Israel Angell (1740–1832) — Angell was an officer in the Continental Army during the American Revolutionary War. Born in Rhode Island, Angell is best known for his actions at the Battle of Springfield (1780) and for the diary he kept during the war.
James Mitchell Varnum (1748–1789) — Varnum was a prominent lawyer, military officer, and politician from Massachusetts, who moved to Rhode Island. During the American Revolutionary War, he served as a General in the Continental Army and played important roles in the battles at Germantown and Monmouth Court House. Known for advocating the enlistment of African American troops, he later served in the Continental Congress and became a judge in the Northwest Territory. Despite poor health, he helped establish territorial law while living in Marietta, Ohio.

Major Thomas-Antoine du Plessis, Chevalier de Mauduit, suggested a change to the fort’s design.

Greene followed his advice and built a new interior wall on the north side to reduce the fort’s size.
The new wall cut off the northern wing of the fort, but it was not visible from the outside.
Greene’s troops dug trenches, built abatis, and constructed parapets to strengthen the fort’s defenses.

Howe Sends von Donop to Attack Fort Mercer

On October 21, 1777, General Howe sent Colonel Carl von Donop and 2,000 Hessian troops to capture Fort Mercer. Von Donop’s force included:

Three grenadier battalions, commanded by Lieutenant Colonels Otto von Linsingen, Georg von Lengerke, and Friedrich von Minnigerode. The grenadiers were exhausted from the Philadelphia Campaign, and each battalion likely had only about 300 soldiers fit for battle.
An infantry regiment, the Fusilier Regiment von Mirbach, commanded by Colonel Justus Block. This regiment was considered of poor quality and provided Donop with outdated intelligence on Fort Mercer and its garrison.
Four infantry companies of Jaegers and a dozen more from the mounted troops.
An artillery detachment with two medium-sized British guns and eight three-pounders.

Von Donop’s Approach to Fort Mercer

Von Donop’s force crossed the Delaware River to Cooper’s Ferry and camped at Haddonfield, New Jersey. Around 4:00 a.m. on October 22, he started his march to Fort Mercer. He correctly assumed the fort was more vulnerable to an attack from the rear than by landing his troops on the riverbank and attacking the front.

The march was slowed by a destroyed bridge, but continued.
The army arrived at Fort Mercer between noon and 1:00 p.m.
To cut off the American garrison’s escape, von Donop deployed his forces.
It took three hours to march the final two miles, while his troops moved into their positions.

At 4:00, an officer was sent to demand the fort’s surrender, threatening “no quarter” if Colonel Greene did not comply. Greene refused the demand, and both forces prepared for hostilities.

The Assault on Fort Mercer

The German forces had their flanks anchored on the Delaware River and were deployed as follows:

The Hessians built an artillery battery north of the fort, aimed at its weakest wall.
Jaegers were stationed in the woods to provide cover for the attack.
Grenadier Battalion von Minnigerode was assigned to attack the north side of the fort.
Fusilier Regiment von Mirbach was tasked with attacking the main gate.
Grenadier Battalion von Linsing was ordered to attack the southern battery, which the Americans called “the citadel.”
Grenadier Battalion von Lengerke positioned itself to fire on American ships moving to attack the Hessians.

Von Donop’s troops advanced at double time to reduce casualties from American artillery and three American ships firing from the river. Each unit carried bundles of fascines (bundles of sticks) to throw in the fort’s ditch.

Minnigerode’s column managed to push through an American screening force on the outer works, briefly entering the fort before encountering the new interior wall on the north side.
Once inside, Minnigerode troops came under fire from the Pennsylvania State Navy.

Mirbach and Linsingen failed to clear the ditch because those sections of the wall were fully manned by the Americans.

They were slowed by the abatis and palisades due to a lack of axes and saws.
Soldiers advanced in line instead of column, spreading fascines too widely across the ditch.

The first assault was stopped by heavy, accurate American fire, which led to many casualties in the ranks of the Hessian officers. A second assault quickly ended as more officers were lost.

40 minutes after the second assault started, the survivors retreated, with Colonel Georg von Lengerke’s troops covering their escape.
Unfortunately, Colonel Greene lacked the manpower to pursue the retreating Hessians.

On the evening of October 23, Lieutenant Colonel Von Linsingen led the remaining troops into Philadelphia, where they took refuge in a barracks. The heavy losses they suffered kept them from returning to action.

The Evacuation of Fort Mercer

The garrison at Fort Mifflin abandoned their post on the night of November 15–16, 1777, making it impossible to continue defending Fort Mercer.

As General Charles Cornwallis approached with 2,000 men for another assault on Fort Mercer, Colonel Greene and the garrison evacuated on the night of November 20–21.

Casualties

Colonel von Donop was mortally wounded in the hip by a musket ball and died on October 25.
22 other Hessian officers were either killed or wounded, including all four battalion or regimental commanders.
The official Hessian report listed 371 total losses, but the actual number of killed, wounded, or captured was likely closer to 400.
This meant approximately 33% of the Hessian forces engaged were lost.
The American forces suffered only 32 casualties, including killed and wounded.

Impact

Greene and the other defenders respected the effort of Donop and his men, who showed bravery in attempting to attack Fort Mercer.
The battle significantly affected the Hessians’ role for the remainder of the war, as their enthusiasm for participating in the British War effort waned.

Appendix

African American Soldiers at the Battle of Red Bank

A historical marker at the Red Bank Battlefield pays tribute to the African American soldiers who served in the Rhode Island regiment:

In 1819, Prince Bent, “a man of collour,” signed a sworn affidavit that he served with Dick Potter (another “man of collour”) in Colonel Christopher Greene’s Rhode Island regiment and that the two had fought together at Red Bank. Bent, a former slave, had been born in Africa in 1760 and served with Potter, a freeman, throughout the Revolutionary War.

The Rhode Island Regiment is frequently referred to as the “Black Regiment” because in 1778, Rhode Island officially authorized the recruitment of African American soldiers, but we know from muster records that as early as 1777, African Americans already served with Colonel Greene. These muster rolls reveal a fascinating group of men including former slaves, Native Americans, and freemen who fought together to defend the Delaware River. This diverse lot, including Dick Potter and Prince Bent, helped to inflict one of the heaviest losses on the Hessians in the Revolution.

Operations on the Delaware River

AHC Note — This account of the Battle of Red Bank is from The Boys of ‘76: A History of the Battles of the Revolution (1876) by Charles C. Coffin. Please note that minor text corrections, additional spacing, and headings have been added to improve readability.

The shores of the Delaware River below the junction of the Schuylkill are low and marshy. The wild ducks build their nests in the reeds along the shores and upon the islands. There are Hog Island, Mud Island, and Billings Island.

The Americans had a fleet of vessels in the river, but, in addition to keeping the British fleet from getting up to the city, they placed a line of obstructions from the Pennsylvania to the New Jersey shore. On Mud Island, they erected a fort, named Fort Mifflin, and on the New Jersey shore was another fortification, at Red Bank, named after General Mercer, who was killed at Princeton. On the New Jersey shore, opposite the chevaux-de-frise which had been placed in the river, the Americans began to throw up another fort.

General Washington hoped that General Howe, although in possession of Philadelphia, would not be able to take these forts. If they could be maintained, General Howe would find it a difficult thing to stay in Philadelphia, so far away from his ships and supplies.

The fleet, under Admiral Howe, sailed down the Chesapeake, came up the Delaware, and was ready to cooperate with the army.

General Howe sent Colonel Stirling, with two regiments, to capture the unfinished fortification (Billingsport). They marched down from Chester and crossed the river in boats below Billings Island. There were only a few Americans in the unfinished work. When they saw the British advancing, they spiked their guns, set fire to their barracks, and fled up the river to the fort at Red Bank. Colonel Stirling completed the destruction of the works, helped the fleet open a passage through the chevaux-de-frise, and returned.

Six small vessels sailed through the opening in the chevaux-de-frise. The fleet could have sailed up to Philadelphia if it had not been for the fort at Red Bank, which would be able to riddle any vessel that might attempt to pass it. That must be taken. General Howe sent Count Donop, a brave young Hessian officer, with two thousand picked Hessians, to capture it. The Hessians crossed the Delaware at Philadelphia and marched down the New Jersey side to Haddonfield on the evening of October 21st.

The next morning, Count Donop started for Fort Mercer. With his brave soldiers, he would have no difficulty in capturing it, which, though it had an embankment on the riverside, was very weak landward.

Colonel Christopher Greene, of Rhode Island, who had marched through the wilderness of Maine to Canada with Arnold, held the fort with four hundred Rhode Island troops.

Early in the morning of the 22nd, Count Donop came to Timber Creek, a little stream that empties into the Delaware above Fort Mercer, but found that the Americans had taken up the bridge, and that he must march four miles up the brook before he could ford it. It was a long and tiresome march, eight miles out of the way, and it gave Colonel Greene time to make all preparations possible. He had fourteen cannon mounted in the fort, but most of them had been placed in position to fire at the ships, and he had to change some of them to the landward side. His men worked intently and were ready for the Hessians.

It was afternoon when Donop reached Red Bank. He formed his men in line of battle in a piece of woods, but, before beginning the attack, sent an officer and a drummer with a white flag toward the fort. Colonel Greene sent out an officer to see what was wanted.

“The King of England orders his rebellious subjects to lay down their arms. They are warned that if they stand battle, no quarter will be given.” The officer came into the fort with the message.

“Say to him that we ask no quarter, nor will we give any. We shall defend the fort or make it our tomb,” was Colonel Greene’s quiet but determined reply.

The Hessian officer returned to Count Donop. The British fleet in the river came upstream and began a furious cannonade. But the shots buried themselves in the mud or flew harmlessly over the works.

Count Donop brought up his cannon, formed his men, and moved to the attack. It was nearly night, and he expected to be in possession of the fort before dark. He sent half of his men to attack on the north side, while he, with the rest, approached from the south.

The fort consisted of two parts, the main fort and the outworks. The latter were unfinished; they were weak and could not be defended. The main fort was stronger, and Colonel Greene wisely determined not to attempt to hold the outworks.

South of the fort, a short distance, was a brick house with “I.A.W. 1748” on one of the gables, the initials standing for James and Anna Whitall. The house had been built twenty-nine years. Mr. Whitall lived there with his wife and family. He was a Quaker and a good Whig (Patriot). Seeing that the battle was about to begin, he and his wife left the house, but his mother, an old lady, would not leave.

“God will take care of me,” she said.

The Hessians, attacking on the north, after keeping up a lively cannonade for half an hour, advanced. At the same time, the British ships began to bombard the fort more furiously. From the north and the south, the shots were falling into the fort.

The Hessians charged upon the outer works, but were surprised to find no one there. They set up a shout, as if they had already won the victory. There was no ditch between the main fort and the earthworks, and they imagined it would be an easy matter to rush up the bank and plant their flag upon it. They could not see any Americans. What had become of the men who had just said that they neither asked for nor gave quarter? Not one was in sight. Were they hiding, panic-stricken by the bombardment? With a shout, they rushed forward.

Suddenly, the fort was all ablaze. From embrasure and rampart there burst out a flame and a storm of iron hail and leaden rain that swept them down in an instant. They could not stand before it. All who could get away fled in consternation from the spot.

While this is going on, Count Donop is advancing from Mr. Whitall’s house. The cannon of the fleet is sending a storm of solid shot and bombs into the fort. Suddenly, the cannonade ceases, for the Hessians are about to leap over the ramparts. They rush bravely up, but now that side of the fort is all aflame. Count Donop falls, and his next in command is Colonel Mingerode.

The Hessians are brave: they climb on their hands and knees up the embankment, fire into the faces of the Americans, who, in turn, the next instant blow out the brains of their assailants.

The Rhode Island men have piles of grenades (hand-bombs) which they set on fire and toss over the embankment, which explode among the Hessians, who have lost their brave leader. He is lying, mortally wounded, at the bottom of the ditch. There is no one to inspire them. They lose courage. The fire is growing hotter. More murderous the storm. A moment, and they are fleeing past Whitall’s house, disorganized, panic-stricken — running in terror to Haddonfield.

It was five o’clock when the attack began, and it is not yet six, but the battle is over. The last rays of the setting sun fall upon the Stars and Stripes, still proudly floating above the ramparts, while below, heaped one upon another, are four hundred Hessians, killed or wounded. The Hessians were so panic-stricken that they left their leader lying at the foot of the embankment.

Inside the fort are eight dead and twenty-nine wounded, and nearly half of these casualties occurred through the bursting of a cannon.

In the evening twilight, Colonel Mauduit, the French engineer, who had laid out the works and who assisted in defending them, was out amidst the wounded. He heard a voice among the slain, “Please take me out.” It was Count Donop. The kind-hearted Frenchman hastened to help him, conveyed him to Mr. Whitall’s house, and kindly cared for him, but his wound was mortal. “I die a victim to ambition and the avarice of my sovereign,” he said, and he might have added that he was slain through the incapacity of Lord North and the stubbornness of King George III.

It was a terrible defeat for General Howe. Four hundred men lost, and nothing gained, and the fleet as far from Philadelphia as ever. The country rang with the praises of Colonel Greene and the brave men who had inflicted so signal a defeat upon the enemy.

Colonel Greene was greatly assisted by Commodore Hazelwood, with a fleet of small vessels in the river. He had more than twenty of all kinds, including galleys, floating batteries, one brig, besides fourteen old vessels fitted up as fire-ships, with tar-barrels on board, which he could set on fire, and which would float down with the tide against the British fleet. Commodore Hazelwood had about one hundred cannon, and he kept up a hot fire upon the British fleet.

Two days later, in the morning, the British ships made an attack on Fort Mifflin. The Augusta, with sixty-four guns; the Roebuck, with forty-four; two frigates; the Merlin, with eighteen guns; and a galley, came up the river and opened a furious cannonade. Lieutenant-Colonel Smith, of Lancaster, Pennsylvania, was in the fort, commanding the garrison. His men, from Colonel John Lamb’s artillery regiment, worked the guns vigorously. Commodore Hazlewood dropped down with his fleet, and the fort and fleet together made it hot for the British.

Colonel Smith sent a red-hot shot at the sixty-four-gun ship, the Augusta, which struck the hull, and in a very short time, the ship was in flames. She was on a mud-bank and could not get away. The fire worked its way into the seams of the ship. The sailors tried in vain to put it out. They fled to their boats, and about noon the ship blew up with a tremendous explosion. The British did not like to give up the contest, and the fight went on from one till two, from two till three in the afternoon.

The Merlin was lying near the mouth of Mud Creek. The gunner sent a red-hot shot which struck into the side of that ship, and set it on fire, and there was another explosion.

The Roebuck, whose commander feared that she might be served in the same way, and the other ships, dropped down the river. So in an afternoon, the British had lost two fine ships.

General Howe was chagrined. There he was in Philadelphia with a great army, and yet two garrisons of less than twelve hundred men, with the fleet of Commodore Hazelwood, had prevented the ships from coming up to the city. He must take Fort Mifflin on Mud Island, and Fort Mercer at Red Bank, or he would be compelled to abandon Philadelphia. He adopted a new plan. He saw that Fort Mifflin, on the side toward Carpenter’s Island, was very weak. There were no cannon mounted to sweep that island, and he sent an expedition in the night to take possession of it.

The troops met with no opposition, and in a few days, he had five batteries erected, with some of the heaviest cannon of the fleet mounted. He brought up a floating-battery mounting twenty-two guns, and anchored it south-west of the fort near Hog Island, within fifteen hundred feet of the fort. Two sixty-four-gun ships and two forty-gun ships came up to take part in the bombardment. All told, the British had between two hundred and fifty and three hundred cannon, besides mortars, to rain a storm of shot and shell upon the little fort.

Everything is ready on the part of the British. The ships advance, and the batteries on the shore open fire. All through the day, the cannonade goes on, ships and batteries firing rapidly, the cannon of the fort replying slowly. Lieutenant Treat, commanding the artillery, is killed by the bursting of a bomb. The barracks are knocked to pieces. Till late into the night, the fire is kept up.

At daybreak the next morning, the ships and batteries open once more. The shots fall thick and fast around the fort. Colonel Smith sits down in the barracks to write a letter to General Varnum, who is on the New Jersey shore: a shot passes through the chimney, scattering the bricks in every direction, and knocking him senseless. Lieutenant-colonel Russell, of Connecticut, takes command, and Colonel Smith, with other wounded, is taken in a boat across the river to Red Bank.

Faster rain the bombs, more vigorously than ever, the British sailors work the guns. From daybreak till midnight, the cannonade goes on. The palisades around the fort are knocked to pieces. A cannon-shot comes through an embrasure and dismounts a gun, killing the gunner. Lieutenant-Colonel Russell is worn out, and Major Thayer, of Rhode Island, assumes command. There is very little rest for the three hundred men under Thayer. The firing goes on till midnight, and the British only stop from weariness.

On the 12th, the ships, at daybreak, open fire once more. The top of the fort is plowed through and through by solid shot. The bombs, which bury themselves in the embankment, blow out cartloads of earth. Two more guns are disabled, the laboratory blows up, and the block-house at the north-west corner of the fort is knocked to pieces.

The hard blows are not all on one side. Major Thayer sends his shot with unerring aim into the fleet, splintering masts and spars. They crash through the sides of the vessels and make fearful havoc among the crews.

The morning dawns once more, and the Americans discover the floating battery close to the fort. During the night, with the incoming tide, the British have come to light at close quarters. The thirty-two-pounders open. They are so near that the shots pass through the embankment. But the shots from the fort tell with greater effect upon the battery. Its thick timbered sides are smashed in, and before noon, there is very little taft of it — every gun is silenced.

The hard-working men in the fort are worn out. Soldiers drop asleep beside the guns while the bombs are bursting around them. Unless relieved, they can not hold out much longer. They have boats in which, if need be, they can retreat in the night up the river to the fleet, or across to Red Bank. They will not give in, however, just yet.

The British are nearly in despair, and are thinking of abandoning the siege. There is a traitor in the garrison. A soldier who, perhaps, has had enough fighting, steals out from the fort, jumps into a boat, makes his way to the fleet, and informs the British that Major Thayer is just ready to abandon the fort. It revives the drooping spirits of the British. Orders are sent to the ships to come to close quarters in the morning. The admiral will knock the fort level with the ground, or sink his ships in the attempt.

The sun rises, and the hard-worked soldiers in the fort see that preparations are making for a terrific assault, They behold the Somerset, the sixty-four-gun ship which, at day-break on the 17th of June, 1775, began a cannonade upon Bunker Hill, and the Iris, carrying sixty -four guns, coming up close to the fort to attack in front.

The Vigilant, with twenty twenty-four-pounders, and an old vessel with three guns, work their way up west of the fort, and take position where they can not be harmed by any of its guns. The ships do not get into position till ten o’clock.

Then, at a signal, the fire begins. From all sides, except the north, the storm is poured upon the fort. The ships are so near that the men in the rigging can pick off the gunners the moment they attempt to load a gun. The cannon, one after another, are dismounted, the carriages knocked to pieces. By noon, all the cannons, except two, are disabled. There is no safe place in the fort. Many are killed, and more wounded, but Major Thayer will not raise the white flag. All day long, the storm rages. The block-houses are knocked to pieces, the palisades all leveled, the embrasures torn away, and yet the brave little band will not surrender.

Night shuts down upon the scene, but there is no diminution of the storm. The deep roar of the cannonade goes on. In the darkness, Major Thayer places his wounded in the boats. Among them is Captain Talbot, with a wound in the hip, another in his wrist; but, though wounded, he has kept on cheering the men.

The boats push off in the darkness and make their way to Red Bank. Major Thayer and forty men remain till midnight. It is useless to remain longer. He will leave the spot, but he will leave in triumph. A train is laid, the match applied, and while it is burning, the heroic defenders glide away in the boats, and while the rowers are pulling at the oars, the flames break out, licking up everything that can burn about the fort. Nearly two hundred and fifty have been killed and wounded in the defense, and more than that number have fallen on board the ships.

There still remained Fort Mercer. Colonel Greene and his brave men were still there. General Howe sent Cornwallis, with two thousand men, to attack it in conjunction with the fleet.

Cornwallis crossed the river from the west side below the fort and came to the little village of Woodbury. General Washington sent General Greene across the Delaware above Philadelphia, at Burlington, with Lafayette; but Greene had a small force, and could not think it prudent to risk a battle, and on the 20th of November, seeing that he was about to be attacked, and that there was little hope ef holding the fort, now that Fort Mifflin had fallen, he evacuated it, and so saved the garrison. A few of the small vessels of Commodore Hazelwood’s fleet crept up past Philadelphia in the darkness, while all the others were set on fire to prevent their falling into the hands of the British.

It was a gloomy day, the 21st of November, for the little army under Washington. Philadelphia was in the possession of the British, the river was open, the forts and fleet destroyed. General Howe had a great army, and Washington was powerless to resist him.

Narrative of the Defense of Fort Mercer

AHC Note — This account of the Battle of Fort Mercer is taken from an address given before the Monmouth County, New Jersey, Historical Association on July 26, 1900, by Alfred M. Heston. Please note that minor text corrections, additional spacing, and headings have been added to improve readability.

Across from League Island, where modern battleships gleam white in their might, and opposite the ramparts of old Fort Mifflin, is the site of another fort, whose story is one of our sacred Revolutionary annals, and whose glory we may well recall on this occasion.

Your Committee on Historical Research has said that “the object of this Society is not to make history, but to preserve it.” To preserve the history of a county whose soil was so often wet with the blood of Patriots is indeed praiseworthy, and perhaps this Society, with its love for patriotism, will be interested in an account of a battle fought on New Jersey soil, where patriotism impelled men to deeds of valor equal to any witnessed on your own glorious field of Monmouth.

Along the eastern shore of the Delaware, among the trees and beneath the undergrowth, we can trace a rounded ridge, a tangle-hidden ditch and a few hillocks — all that is left of the old fort at Red Bank, where 400 soldiers of the Rhode Island line held an unfinished earthworks against an assault from the rear by 2,000 well-disciplined and well-equipped Hessians, — ”trained men of wellknit sinews” — where a band of Patriots met the odds of five to one, and drove them back in signal rout.

A marble shaft, whose inscription is half obliterated, dedicated to the memory of Colonel Christopher Greene and his band of Patriots, looms up gray in the woodland gap. The dedication of this shaft was signalized exactly fifty years after the battle by a sham fight between the Pennsylvania troops, commanded by Colonel Bartle, representing the Hessians, and the New Jersey Militia, commanded by Colonel Armstrong, representing the Americans (*).

Author’s Note (*) — The Pennsylvania troops, numbering about 400, landed from a steamer at the mouth of Woodbury creek, and marched up the road along the river bank, firing their field pieces as they proceeded. When they had passed the Whitall house, they were met by the Jersey troops, numbering about 100. The monument was at first placed on the edge of the river bluff, so as to be readily seen from the river. Subsequently, it was set further back, near the ditch that surrounded the fort.

A short distance from the monument stands an ancient farmhouse, built in 1748, according to a stone set in the eastern gable, and around it cluster stories of a dauntless Quaker dame, Ann Whitall, who is said to have sat at her spinning wheel while cannon balls crashed around and through the house.

This incident, stated by Mickle in his Reminiscences of Old Gloucester, and repeated by Lossing, in his Field Book of the Revolution, is of doubtful authenticity; howbeit, it is much more credible than the anecdote of Commodore Joshua Barney. One of the enemy’s galleys, at the time of this battle, had a brass eighteen-pounder, which told at every fire. Said the Commodore: “The Americans on board the gunboats soon became so well acquainted with the sound of her explosion that whenever she went off, someone would cry out, ‘galley shot,’ at which all hands would lie down.” It must be admitted that dodging a cannonball is by no means an ordinary feat!

It was at or very near Red Bank — the precise spot being unknown — that Fort Nassau was erected by Captain Cornelius Jacobsen Mey, in 1623, and the first settlement in New Jersey was thereby attempted. Sixty odd years later, Red Bank was made the capital of the county of Gloucester, but the place derives no celebrity from the fact that it is the reputed site of an ancient Dutch fortress, or the location of a decayed capital. Its name has not been associated with any judicial antics, of which it might have been the scene in the seventeenth century, but with one of the most brilliant battles of our Revolutionary period.

Historians may accord the honors to Monmouth, Trenton, Saratoga, and Yorktown, but the meed of praise, in equal measure, belongs to Red Bank. Monmouth had her Molly Pitcher; Red Bank had her Christopher Greene. The cry of Major Pitcairn to the 70 Patriots at Lexington, “Disperse, you rebels; throw down your arms and disperse,” had a fitting answer in the reply of brave Greene, at Red Bank: “King George be damned; we ask no quarter.”

In September 1777, following the defeat of Washington at Brandywine and the massacre of Wayne’s 300 patriots at Paoli, the victorious army of Sir William Howe entered Philadelphia. About the same time, Sir Richard Howe entered the lower Delaware with his fleet, intending to co-operate with the army of occupation in Philadelphia.

Captain Hammond, commanding the British frigate Roebuck, of 44 guns, represented to the commander-in-chief that if a sufficient force could be sent to reduce the fortifications at Billingsport, three miles below Red Bank, he would take upon himself the task of opening a passage through the chevaux-de-frise, with which the Americans had obstructed the channel between Billingsport and Red Bank.

General Howe at once dispatched two regiments from Chester, under Colonel Stirling, for that purpose. They crossed the Delaware a little below Billingsport, marched to the rear of the unfinished works, and made a furious assault upon the garrison. The Americans were dismayed at this unexpected attack, and believing themselves unable to make a successful resistance, they spiked their guns, set fire to the barracks, and fled. The British thereupon demolished the works on the river front, made a passage seven feet wide through the stockades, sailed through with six light vessels, and anchored in the Delaware below Red Bank.

Howe now determined to make a general sweep of all the American works on the Delaware, and with that end in view, he concentrated his entire army in the vicinity of Philadelphia. At this time, two Rhode Island regiments, belonging to General Varnum’s brigade, under Colonel Christopher Greene, garrisoned Fort Mercer, at Red Bank, with four hundred men.

It was very important for the American cause that the Delaware should be defended against the invading fleet. On a low and marshy island, which has since become a part of the mainland of Pennsylvania, at the mouth of the Schuylkill, Fort Mifflin was thrown up for the purpose of covering with batteries the river obstructions.

On the opposite New Jersey shore, as stated. Fort Mercer was built on a high bank, commanding the open stretch of the Delaware above and below.

In the river between the two forts, under cover of their guns, ranges of strong frames were sunk as chevaux de frise, to rake the wooden bottoms of England’s ships of war, and blockade the narrow channel. These efforts, great in their day, seem puerile in this age of floating fortresses and thirteen-inch rifles.

Fort Mifflin was distant from Fort Mercer about one mile and was garrisoned by about 400 men of the Maryland Line, in command of Lieutenant Colonel Samuel Smith. The American fleet in the river, between Red Bank and Philadelphia, consisted chiefly of galleys commanded by Commander Hazelwood (*).

Author’s Note (*) — Esek Hopkins, under act of Congress of April 22, 1775, was made the first “commander” of the American Navy, holding the office until January, 1777, but the title of “commodore” was not used in the navy until many years later. The title of “commodore” by courtesy was extended to several officers during the War of 1812, but the first officer to hold it as a direct commission appears to have been Commodore David Porter, when he commanded the expedition against the pirates of the West Indies in 1823–1824.

The Americans were determined to hold these posts to the last extremity. Captain Hammond, as we have seen, had forced a way through the lower channel obstructions and come to within range of the guns at Fort Mercer and Fort Mifflin. Then began one of the most glorious stands ever made by patriots fighting for home and country in the last ditch.

Count Carl Emil Kurt von Donop, a brave German officer, was sent out from Philadelphia with four battalions of Hessian veterans, chosen from the powerful army of occupation. On Tuesday, October 21st, they crossed the Delaware at Cooper’s Ferry, now Camden, marched to Haddonfield, and thence by way of a place then known as Cattletown to the King’s Highway above Woodbury and toward Red Bank. They had intended to take a more direct route, but the Americans had destroyed the bridge over Timber Creek, and the Hessians were obliged to march four miles up the creek to a shallow ford, at or near Clement’s Bridge.

A portion of their route to Red Bank still goes by the name of “Hessian Road,” and a stream of water that crosses the road is known as “Hessian Run,” where, no doubt, they rested and replenished their canteens.

A white man named Bill McIlvaine, and a black man named “Dick,” the latter owned by Colonel Joseph Ellis, a Haddonfield Patriot, volunteered to act as guides for the Hessians when they left Haddonfield on the morning of October 22nd.

Another black man, known as “Mitch,” at work near the Cooper’s Creek Bridge, was pressed into service as a guide. Years afterwards, Mitch had “Old” prefixed to his name, and as “Old Mitch,” he described the battle of Red Bank to the late Dr. Charles Clark, of Woodbury.

Twenty-five years ago, Dr. Clark, then about 75 years old, narrated to me some of the particulars of this battle, as he had previously gathered them from “Old Mitch” and others who lived in those stirring times.

To the honor of “Old Mitch,” be it said that he had the blood of a patriot, and though bully-ragged by the Red Coats, he stood by his friends and betrayed no secrets. Of the fate of Mcllvaine and Dick, we shall learn presently.

Colonel Greene, energetic, obedient, and patriotic, had not been idle during those October days. Washington had written him, under date of October 9th, from his headquarters at Skippack, above Philadelphia, as follows:

“I have directed General Varnum to send your regiment and that of Colonel Angell’s to Red Bank, by a route which has been marked out to him. The command of that detachment will, of course, devolve on you, with which you will proceed with all expedition, and throw yourself into that place. When you arrive there, you will immediately communicate your arrival to Colonel Smith, commander of the garrison at Fort Mifflin, and Commodore Hazlewood, commander of the fleet in the river. You are to cooperate with them in every measure necessary for the defense of the obstructions in the river, and to counteract every attempt the enemy may make for their removal. You will find a very good fortification at Red Bank, but if anything should be requisite to render it stronger, or proportion it to the size of your garrison, you will have it done. The cannon you will stand in need of, as much as can be spared, will be furnished from the galleys at Fort Mifflin, from whence you will also derive supplies of military stores. I have sent Captain Duplessis, with some officers and men, to take the immediate direction of the artillery for your garrison. He is also to superintend any works that may be necessary. If there be any deficiency of men for the artillery, the security of the garrison will require you to assist them in the few additional ones from your detachment. You should not lose a moment’s time in getting to the place of your destination and making every preparation for its defense. Any delay might give the enemy an opportunity of getting there before you, which could not fail of being most fatal in its consequences. If in the progress of your march you should fall in with any detachment of the enemy, bending toward the same object, and likely to gain it before you, and from intelligence you should have reason to think yourself equal to the task, you will by all means attack them, and endeavor by that means to disappoint their design. I have written to General Newcomb of the Jersey Militia to give you all the aid in his power, for which you will accordingly apply when necessary. Upon the whole, sir, you will be pleased to remember that the post with which you are now entrusted is of the utmost importance to America, and demands every exertion of which you are capable for its security and defence. The whole defence of the Delaware absolutely depends upon it; and consequently, all the enemy’s hopes of keeping Philadelphia and finally succeeding in the object of the present campaign. Influenced by these considerations, I doubt not your regard to the service and your own reputation will prompt you to every possible effort to accomplish the important end of your trust, and frustrate the intentions of the enemy.”

The fact that Colonel Greene was entrusted with the command of a post that was of “the utmost importance to America,” and upon which the whole defense of the Delaware absolutely depended, in the estimation of Washington, is a tribute to the honor, the valor, and the judgment of Colonel Greene, no less appreciable than the gift of a sword by Congress.

Not having men to properly man the fort, Colonel Greene proposed to abandon about two-thirds, or the upper end of it; put a double board fence across the lower third; protect it with wooden pickets and the sharpened branches of trees; place the cannon in such a position as to rake the upper part of the fort; cover them with bushes; fill the space between the two fences with hay, old lumber and such other obstructions as were at hand. The cannons were heavily loaded with grapeshot and other destructive missiles. It was arranged that only a show of defense should be made at the upper end of the fort, which was to be abandoned as soon as the attack was found to be in earnest, and a retreat made to the small enclosure or main fort below. This was to be defended to the last extremity.

Historians, in their brief reference to the battle of Red Bank, have usually fixed the time of the assault at before noon. Even the late Judge Clement, of Haddonfield, known to some of you as a faithful annalist and painstaking historian, falls into this error. Some accounts say it took place early in the day, others are silent as to the time of day, and in but one or two instances, so far as I am aware, has it been said that the assault took place late in the afternoon.

The diary of Job Whitall, a Quaker and non-combatant, is interesting in this connection. Friend Whitall lived in a large brick house, fronting the river and just below the fort. He was the husband of Ann Whitall, already mentioned, and kept a diary of daily incidents for 20 years, from 1775 to 1795. Under date of Tenth month, 22d, 1777, the day of the battle, he says:

“This day dawned pleasant and fair. Father and I hung the gate and then finished the stacks. Then we got the horses and wagon, and loaded our goods to move them, as we hear the English troops in the river are coming nearer.”

Under the same date, Friend Whitall says that “myself, wife and children, after eating dinner, went off to Uncle David Cooper’s, near Woodbury.”

He also tells us that Cooper sent his wagon to aid in moving the goods. They drove away 21 head of his cattle. “The people in the Fort,” says he, regretfully, “drove away from father and I forty-seven sheep into the Fort.”

The fact that the Hessians had not arrived at noon, and that “after eating dinner,” Dame Whitall and her children were taken to Uncle David Cooper’s, near Woodbury, proves that there was no battle until afternoon, and apparently disproves the story about the good dame sitting at her spinningwheel, first upstairs, and then in the cellar, while cannon balls were crashing through the walls of the house.

It must have been on account of information that the Hessians were coming, or because the men in the fort had aroused the ire of the peaceful Quaker by driving into their enclosure 47 of his sheep, that Job Whitall, some lime after dinner on the day of the battle, decided to remove his wife and children to Woodbury, and to save his 21 head of cattle.

But if Friend Whitall resented the taking of his 47 head of sheep by the men in the fort, what must have been his subsequent feelings toward the garrison? On the 25th, three days after the battle, he says: “The soldiers pressed my mare, by order of Col. Greene.”

The next day, after noting the fact that he had hauled away the wheat and grain, he adds: “Then I filled four rooms with goods — locked up,” and under date of the day following, we read that “these rooms the soldiers broke open and took away some potatoes.”

Five days later, on November 1st, the soldiers took away his mare and four loads of rye, but he tells us that he himself “got off with some of his horses,” and his neighbors assisted in removing his hay, produce, &c.

On November 4th, he notes: “The soldiers pressed my oxen as we were in the act of hauling away, and the soldiers went to Uncle David Cooper’s, and there pressed the sorrel horse.”

On the 9th, the “soldiers steal some of the pigs at Woodbury,” while the family is at meeting. The next day, he goes to “the Bank,” meaning Red Bank, and gets a load out of his cellar. On the 15th, he killed his fat cow, and in the night, the soldiers came and pillaged a part of it.

On the 21st, while still living at Woodbury, he stayed at home because the English soldiers had then arrived there. They took his two mares, both with foal, and while the army was passing by, they came and took their bread, pies, milk, cheese, dishes, cups, spoons; also their shirts, sheets, blankets, &c., and then drove out the cattle from the brick shed.

These few extracts from the diary are sufficient to show the perturbed state of Friend Whitall’s mind about the time of the battle at Red Bank. Manduit, the French engineer, who assisted Colonel Greene, could not comprehend the peace doctrines of the Quakers, and because Friend Whitall would not doff his straight coat, shoulder a musket, and go into the fort, the Frenchman concluded that he was a Tory, and ordered his barn torn down and his orchard destroyed.

But continuing our account of the battle, I assume that the little garrison was not expecting a formidable land attack, and their sentry lines did not extend far beyond the fortification. They must be in readiness for any movement made by that fleet of war vessels in the river, whose spars could be seen above the ramparts of the fort. Late in the afternoon, the Hessians appeared before the fort. The British naval force on the river was ready to cooperate with them in the attack.

Colonel Greene was not dismayed by the appearance of the Hessians, although the farthest sentry had dashed into the fort and said they numbered 2,500. He immediately ordered preparations for the defense. The 14 guns were double-shotted and reprimed. Within, there was the roll of drums calling to quarters, the rattle of snapping flints, the hurrying footfalls of men forming a line along the parapets, the shouting of orders, the clash of steel, and the tattoo of ramrods. Without, there was the roll of Hessian drums. Then came a time of silence, when the men, we may suppose, said their prayers and examined their flints.

The last preparations were made within, when a Hessian officer rode out from the woods, across the open field, bearing a flag of truce and followed by a drummer. He halted close to the ramparts and shouted:

“The king of England orders his rebellious subjects to lay down their arms, and they are warned that if they stand the battle, no quarter will be given.”

Colonel Greene deputized a man to mount the parapet and fling back the answer: “We ask no quarter, nor will we give any.”

One trustworthy account says the exact words were: “’We’ll see King George be damned first; we ask no quarter.”

The Hessian officer rode back to the lines, and the attack began immediately. A field battery was dragged up and placed “half a shot away,” says an old chronicler, “and within the fort all were eager and busy.” It was then four o’clock in the afternoon. The Hessians opened fire with their battery, hoping to make a breach in the walls.

At the same time, the British ships below the chevaux de frise began to thunder upon the little fort, but many of their balls fell too low and entered the bluff beneath the works. After cannonading for a short time, the Hessians advanced to the first entrenchment. Finding this abandoned, they shouted “Victory,” waved their hats, and rushed into the deserted area before the redoubt.

When the first of the assailants had come up to the abatis and were endeavoring to cut away the branches, the Americans opened a terrific fire of cannon and musketry in front and flank. Death rode in every volley. So near were the Hessians to the caponiere or looped trench which flanked the enemy when they set upon the main fort, that the wads were blown entirely through their bodies. The officers leading the attack fought bravely. Again and again, they rallied their men and brought them to the charge, but they fell in heaps among the boughs of the abatis and into the moat.

In the thickest of the fight, Donop was easily distinguished, but his example availed nothing. Repulsed from the redoubt in front, his men made an attack upon the escarpment on the northwest or river side, but the fire from the American galleys drove them back with great loss, and at last they flew in great disorder to the woods, leaving many slain (*).

Author’s Note (*) — While the enemy was attacking the fort, the Augusta, of sixty-four guns; the Roebuck, of forty-four; two frigates, of thirty-two; the Merlin, of eighteen, and their large galleys came through the lower chevaux de frise, and kept up a great firing, in order to draw off our galleys from giving any assistance to the fort; but they were mistaken. The Augusta, in going down in the evening, got aground. Early this morning (October 23d), all the galleys and floating batteries began the attack, when an incessant fire was kept up on both sides; so that the very elements seemed to be on fire. At eleven o’clock, the Augusta was set on fire, and at twelve, she blew up with an astonishing blast. One of our people was killed in a galley by the fall of a piece of timber, and we were so near that some of our powder-horns took fire and blew up. The engagement still continued, but the Roebuck fell lower down, and the Merlin, of eighteen guns, ran aground, and at three o’clock the enemy set fire to her, when the engagement ceased, the enemy falling still lower down. Thus ended two glorious days. The Commodore (Hazelwood) with his boats went on board the wrecks and took out much plunder, and brought off two of their cannon, one an eighteen, the other a twenty-four pounder. — From Diary of the Revolution, October 23, 1777.

Another column made a simultaneous attack upon the south, but were repulsed, and all retreated save 20, who were standing on the berm against the shelvings of the parapet, under and out of the way of the guns, whence they were afraid to move.

These were captured by Manduit, the French engineer, who had sallied from the fort to repair some palisades. This brave Frenchman, making another sortie a few minutes afterwards, to repair the southern abatis, heard a voice from among the heaps of dead and dying exclaim in broken English: “Whoever you are, draw me hence.” This was Count Donop. The Frenchman caused him to be carried into the fort, where it was found that his hip was broken, but the wound was not considered fatal. Remembering the threat of the Hessian officer, who was permitted to approach the fort before the battle, an American said, in the hearing of Donop:

“It is determined to give no quarter.”

“I am in your hands,” said the Count, “you may revenge yourselves.” Nevertheless, the wounded Hessian was properly cared for.

Manduit, enjoining the men in broken English to be generous toward their bleeding and humbled prisoner. Donop said to him, “You appear to be a foreigner, sir; who are you?”

“A French officer, sir,” was the reply.

“I am content,” said Donop; “I die in the hands of honor itself.”

Donop was removed first to the Whitall House, below the fort, and afterwards to the house of one Lowe, over the dam, at Woodbury creek, where he died of his wounds three days later.

When told that his end was near, he said: “It is finishing a noble career early, but I die the victim of ambition and the avarice of my sovereign.”

To Colonel Clymer, he said: “See in me the vanity of all human pride. I have shone in all the courts of Europe, and now I am dying on the banks of the Delaware, in the house of an obscure Quaker.”

The house in which Donop died stood until about 1860. It was of brick with the old-style hip roof.

Weems, in his life of Washington, refers to this incident. The legs of prose being altogether too slow for this eccentric writer, he frequently invokes the wings of poetry to help him over an extraordinary occurrence. In describing the battle of Red Bank, he breaks into versification as follows:

“Heaps on heaps, the slaughtered Hessians lie;
Brave Greene beholds them with a tearful eye;
Far now from home and from their native shore,
They sleep in death and hear of war no more.”

Dr. George W. Greene, in his book on the German Element in the War of Independence, referring to these dying words of Donop, “the victim of my own ambition and the avarice of my sovereign,” says: “Did these bitter words ever reach the ears of that sovereign? Not if we may judge by the cold, business-like method with which he bargained with the British King that three wounded men should count as one killed, and one killed as thirty crowns banco.”

The defeat of the Hessians and the death, not only of Donop, but of Mingerode, the officer second in command, demoralized them, and they retreated towards Cooper’s Ferry in detached bodies, begging food and shelter of those whom they had so badly treated.

The transportation of the wounded caused much trouble, and as one detachment approached Haddonfield, a farmer living near the road was, with his horse and cart, pressed into service to carry those who were unable to walk further. The appearance of armed men so terrified the farmer that he neglected to fasten down the front of his cart, and in ascending a hill near the village, the weight of the men was thrown on the rear of the cart. Consequently, all were pitched headlong into the road, at which there was much swearing in Dutch by the soldiers and prostestations in English by the farmer; but after many threats, the vehicle was properly secured, and the journey to Cooper’s Ferry was completed.

Other detachments of Hessians retreated by way of Blackwood or Chew’s Landing. Near the latter place, they were met by a company of farmers’ boys, who held them at bay for some time. This detachment had with them a brass cannon, which they are said to have thrown into the creek near Chew’s Landing.

Bin Mcllvaine and the Dick, to whom I have referred as guides for the Hessians, being taken prisoners by the Americans, were immediately hanged within the fort for divers outrages which they had committed.

Old Mitch lived for many years and often told how frightened he was during the progress of the battle. Determined not to bear arms against his country, and being afraid to run away, he got behind a hay rick, and lay there flat on his stomach until the battle was over.

“First, when the cannon ball came along,” he used to say, “I believed I was a dead [man for] sure; but lordy master, when the hot fighting was going on, I was most shook dead as the…cannon balls come a-plowing along the ground and a-flinging sand in my face.”

Dr. Charles Clark, of Woodbury, to whom I have already referred, said in 1875, that many years before he had talked with “Old Mitch,” and the words of the old negro, as I have given them, are exactly as Dr. Clark recalled them.

In the manuscript notes of a septuagenarian, quoted by Mickle, in 1845, we are told that he, the septuagenarian, was in the fort on the morning of the 23rd of October, the day after the battle, when he saw that a number of the men under Colonel Greene were blacks and mulattoes. The garrison was then busy burying the dead. His account of the loss agrees with that contained in Ward’s letter to Washington, namely: On the American side, from Greene’s regiment, two sergeants, one fifer, and four privates killed, one sergeant and two privates wounded, and one captain, who was reconnoitering, taken prisoner. From Angell’s regiment, one captain, three sergeants, three rank and file killed, and one ensign, one sergeant, and fifteen privates wounded; and from Captain Duplessis’ company, two privates wounded.

The Hessians lost Count Donop, Colonel Minegerode, three captains, four lieutenants, and above 70 privates killed, and a brigade major, captain, lieutenant, and upwards of 70 non-commissioned officers and privates wounded and prisoners. A number of the wounded subsequently died. Other accounts make the Hessian loss much greater (*).

Author’s Notes (*)

A letter to the New Jersey Gazette, dated October 23, 1777, giving an account of the battle, says: “In about three-quarters of an hour’s attack, they ran off with the greatest precipitation, leaving behind them dead about ninety persons. Among them was a lieutenant colonel and four captains; and from a good authority, we are assured that the enemy buried one colonel and twenty-one privates between the fort and Cooper’s ferry, and carried over the river not less than two hundred wounded. The enemy left on the field, wounded, Count Donop, his brigade-major, a lieutenant, and about eighty privates. The brigade-major and lieutenant are permitted to go into Philadelphia, and most of the privates have died of their wounds.”
A number of the wounded subsequently died. Including these, the Hessian killed numbered not less than one hundred and fifty. The Hessians are also said to have taken over the Delaware, “not less than two hundred wounded.”
Dr. James Thacher, a surgeon in the Revolutionary army, in his journal says: “Count Donop was mortally wounded and taken, and more than one hundred were killed on the spot, and a greater number wounded and prisoners. The enemy retreated with great precipitation, leaving many of their wounded on the road, and returned to Philadelphia with the loss of one-half their party.”

The battle lasted forty minutes, and during its progress, a number of Americans were killed or wounded by the bursting of a cannon. The Hessian slain were buried in the moat south of the fort. Those who were not mortally wounded were taken to Philadelphia by Manduit and exchanged.

Donop was buried in the pathway halfway between the old Whitall House and the lower end of the fort, the feet towards the river. Someone placed a rough stone at his head, on which were picked in a very crude way the letters, “Here lies buried Count Donop.” Years afterward, what was left of the Hessian was dug up and distributed among various persons as ghastly relics. Time was when men were guilty of exhibiting canes, the heads of which were set with teeth taken from the jawbone of a count!

Annalist John F. Watson, of Philadelphia, said he visited Red Bank in 1847, and at the house of Louis Whitall, grandson of Friend Job Whitall, he saw the skull of Count Donop.

While the Hessians were assaulting Fort Mercer, the British fleet in the river, besides firing in the direction of Red Bank, made an attack upon Fort Mifflin, across the river. Of the glorious defense of this fort for six days, against overwhelming odds, I need not speak.

After Fort Mifflin had been evacuated (the remnant of the garrison escaping to Red Bank by night), Howe sent Cornwallis with reinforcements from New York to fall upon Fort Mercer. With 2,000 men, the latter crossed the Delaware from Chester to Billingsport on November 18th.

Washington had been apprised of this movement and had previously sent troops under General Nathaniel Greene to relieve the doughty garrison at Red Bank. This force was to be increased by the addition of Glover’s Brigade, but Generals Greene and Lafayette (the latter not yet recovered from a wound received at Brandywine), crossing to New Jersey, failed to connect with Glover’s Brigade, and learning the strength of Cornwallis’s Army, General Greene went off to Haddonfield. Colonel Greene was ordered to evacuate Fort Mercer, as the British fleet, after the reduction of Fort Mifflin, had gone by and up to Philadelphia. Colonel Greene accordingly blew up and evacuated the fort on November 20th.

The day following Greene’s evacuation of the fort, Cornwallis arrived at Woodbury, and then began another series of depredations upon Friend Whitall’s barn yard and pig sty, the story of which is plaintively told in the diary from which I have already quoted; nor was dame Whitall’s larder overlooked by the hungry Red Coats, who carried off her bread, pies, cakes, milk, cheese, dishes, cups, spoons, &c., likewise her shirts, sheets and blankets.

On November 22nd, says the diarist, the soldiers took away one of his pigs and cut and hacked others. They also took his harness and potatoes. The next day, they took his hay and ten of his sheep, and the day following, November 24th, “the English soldiers moved off in the morning from Woodlbury,” going to Red Bank. After they had gone, Friend Whitall walked to the campground and found there his big kettle and the hide of his brown ox. On his return from Woodbury, he found that they had opened his smokehouse and taken five flitches. They had also used of his boards a thousand feet and burned two or three thousand of his staves.

Deprived of his cattle, his horses, his oxen, his sheep, his pigs, his stores, his sheets, and his shirts, what wonder is it that Friend Job Whitall deprecated the horrors of war! Surely, his was a horrible tale, the telling of which might make his neighbors’ faces all turn pale! We can imagine Job the Quaker, saying with Paul the Apostle, “O, wretched man that I am; who shall deliver me from the body of this death?”

As a recognition of his valorous defense of Fort Mercer, Congress directed that a sword be presented to Colonel Greene, but this sword it was not his privilege to receive. It was given to his son after the close of the war, the Colonel himself being then dead. While stationed with his regiment near the Croton River. New York, he was surprised about sunrise, on May 13, 1781, by a company of Tories, consisting of all but 100 cavalry and 200 infantry, commanded by the notorious Colonel James Delancey.

They first attacked Colonel Greene’s and Major Flagg’s quarters and killed the Major while in bed. Colonel Greene fell after his single arm had slain a number of his assailants. Being badly wounded in the house, he was carried into the woods and barbarously murdered. Two subalterns and 27 privates were also killed, and a lieutenant and surgeon, with about 20 men, were taken prisoners.

At the same time. Captain Knapp, of the cavalry, with a detachment of Tories, attacked the house of Widow Grifhn, half a mile distant from Colonel Greene’s camp, where they killed eight men and took 21 prisoners.

In referring to this cruel assault, in his Military Journal of the Revolution, Dr. James Thacher says: “It will not be denied that an enemy may be justified in availing himself of every opportunity of gaining an advantage over his antagonist, or that in some instances slaughter is unavoidable; but a wanton and unnecessary sacrifice of life is on all occasions to be deprecated as a disgraceful violation of the dictates of humanity.”

In conclusion, recurrring to Red Bank, I cannot refrain from expressing before this patriotic society what must be the sentiment of every native or adopted son and daughter of New Jersey, namely: That the neglected condition of the monument erected to commemorate the bravery of Colonel Greene and his band of Patriots is discreditable to the Government upon whose grounds it is located, and to the county within whose bounds it is situated. For years, it has been the prey of vandals, and its once-polished sides are now scratched and marred by the pencil and pick of the plebe. In 1872, the Government purchased a tract of about one hundred acres along the Delaware, at Red Bank, including the site of the fortifications and the old Whitall house, whose floors are still stained with the blood of wounded Hessians and Patriots, and while the house, now tenanted by Captain Stephen Abdill and his obhging wife, has undergone a thorough renovation, (the woodwork shining with new paint and the rooms resplendent with new furniture,) the monument is ignored, neglected and forgotten.

Three or 400 feet from the road, near the center of a field at Valley Forge, is the grave of Captain John Waterman, a Rhode Island soldier, who died during that memorable winter of 1777–78. For many years, the owner of the land, Mr. I. Heston Todd, has preserved and guarded this grave, and over it, ere long, there will be placed a suitable monument, the State of Rhode Island having appropriated $10,000 for that purpose. Over the same grave, the Daughters of the Revolution are also determined to place a fitting monument. Will it become the privilege of the same little commonwealth of Rhode Island to put to shame the Federal Government by restoring the monument at Red Bank, and protecting it from depredations by the vulgar herd? Alas, that there are no sons and daughters of Revolutionary sires in old Gloucester County, with pride and patriotism sufficient to preserve a monument erected within her precincts, to commemorate the gallant stand of that noble 400!

Written by Randal Rust