Cruelties at Fort Griswold. Fanny Ledyard. Departure of the Enemy. Events in 1813. Arnold's Dispatches. of the fort, until seventy men were killed, and thirty-five mortally or dangerously wounded.' The enemy then plundered the fort and garrison of every thing valuable. Their appetite for slaughter not being appeased, they placed several of the wounded in a baggage-wagon, took it to the brow of the hill on which the fort stands, and sent it down with violence, intending thus to plunge the helpless sufferers into the river. The distance was about one hundred rods, the ground very rough. The jolting caused some of the wounded to expire, while the cries of agony of the survivors were heard across the river, even in the midst of the crackling noise of the burning town! The wagon was arrested in its progress by an apple-tree, and thus the sufferers remained for more than an hour, until their captors stretched them upon the beach, preparatory to embarkation. Thirty-five of them were paroled and carried into a house near by, where they passed the night in great distress, a burning thirst being their chief tormentor. Although there was a pump in a well of fine water within the fort, the wounded were not allowed a drop with which to moisten their tongues, and the first they tasted was on the following morning, when Fanny Ledyard, a niece of the murdered colonel, came, like an angel of mercy, at dawn, with wine, and water, and chocolate. She approached stealthily, for it was uncertain whether the enemy had left. Fortunately, they had sailed during the night, carrying away about forty of the inhabitants prisoners.* Thus ended the most ignoble and atrocious performance of the enemy during the war, and the intelligence of it nerved the strong arms of the patriots in the conflict at Yorktown, in Virginia, a few weeks later, which resulted in the capture of the British army of the South under Cornwallis. During the war between the United States and Great Britain, from 1812 to 1815, New London was several times menaced with invasion by the enemy. In May, 1813, as Commodore Decatur, then in command of the United States, with his prize, the Macedonian, fitted out as an American frigate, was attempting to get to sea, he was chased by a British squadron under Commodore Hardy, and driven into New London, where he was blockaded for some time. On one occasion the town and neighborhood were much alarmed on account of a report that the enemy were about to bombard the place. A considerable military force was stationed there, and preparations were made to repel the invaders. The forts were well garrisoned with United States troops, and the militia turned out in great numbers. The enemy, however, did not attempt an attack, and, becoming wearied of watching Decatur, the British squadron put to sea, soon followed by our gallant commodore. Since that time no event has disturbed the repose or retarded the progress of New London. The whaling business, and other commercial pursuits, have poured wealth into its lap, and spread its pleasant dwellings over more than thrice its ancient area. The most prominent point of attraction to the visitor at New London is the Groton Monument, on the eastern side of the Thames, which, standing upon high ground, is a conspicuous object from every point of view in the vicinity. I crossed the Thames early on the His niece, Fanny, mentioned in the text, was from Southold, Long Island, and was then on a visit at the house of her uncle. The vest worn by Colonel L. on that occasion (as I have already noticed) is preserved in the cabinet of the Connecticut Historical Society. 1 1 Arnold, in his dispatch to Sir Henry Clinton, gave the impression that the killed were victims of honorable strife. Of course he knew better, for his dispatch was written two days after the event, and every circumstance must have been known by him. Hear him: "I have inclosed a return of the killed and wounded, by which your excellency will observe that our loss, though very considerable, is short of the enemy's, who lost most of their officers, among whom was their commander, Colonel Ledyard. Eighty-five men wer found dead in Fort Griswold, and sixty wounded, most of them mortally. Their loss on the opposite side (New London) must have been considerable, but can not be ascertained." See Arnold's Dispatch to Sir H. Clinton; Gordon, iii., 249; Sparks's Life of Arnold; The Connecticut Journal, 1781; Narrative of Stephen Hempstead. Mr. Hempstead was a soldier in the garrison at the time of the massacre, and was one of the wounded who were sent down the declivity in the baggage-wagon, suffered during the night, and experienced the loving kindness of Fanny Ledyard in the morning. His narrative was communicated to the Missouri Republican in 1826, at which time he was a resident of that state. Mr. Hempstead was a native of New London, and entered the army in 1775. He was at Dorchester during the siege of Boston, was in the battle of Long Island, and also in the engagement on Harlem Heights, where he had two of his ribs broken by a grape-shot. The Groton Monument. Inscription upon it. Ascent of its Stair-case. View from the Top October 12, morning after my arrival, and ascended to Fort Griswold, now a dilapidated fortress, without ordnance or garrison, its embankments breaking the regular outline 1848. of Groton Hill, now called Mount Ledyard. A little northward of the fort rises a granite monument, one hundred and twenty-seven feet high, the foundation-stone of which is one hundred and thirty feet above tide-water. It was erected in 1830, in memory of the patriots who fell in the fort in 1781. Its pedestal, twenty-six feet square, rises to the height of about twenty feet, and upon it is reared an obelisk which is twenty-two feet square at the base, and twelve feet at the top. It is ascended within by one hundred and sixty-eight stone steps; and at the top is a strong iron railing for the protection of visitors. Marble tablets with inscriptions are placed upon the pedestal. The cost of its erection was eleven thousand dollars, which amount was raised by a lottery authorized by the state for that purpose. I paid the tribute-money of a "levy," or York shilling, to a tidy little woman living in the stone building seen at the right of the monument, which procured for me the ponderous key of the structure, and, locking myself in, I ascended to the top, with the privilege of gazing and wondering there as long as I pleased. It was a toilsome journey up that winding staircase, for my muscles had scarcely forgotten a similar draught upon their energies at Breed's Hill; but I was comforted by the teachings of the new philosophy that the spiral is the only true ascent to a superior world of light, and beauty, and expansiveness of vision;' and so I found it, for a most magnificent view burst upon the sight as I made the last upward revolution and stood upon the dizzy height. The broad, cultivated hills and valleys; the forests and groves slightly variegated by the pencil of recent frost; the city and river at my feet, with their busy men and numerous sails; the little villages peeping from behind the hills and woodlands in every direction, and the heaving Sound glittering in the southern horizon, were all basking in the light of the morning sun, whose radiance, from that elevation, seemed brighter than I had ever seen it. It was a charming scene for the student of nature, and yet more charming for the student of the romance of American history. At the This is a view from the southwest angle of old Fort Griswold, looking northeast. The embankments of the fort are seen in the foreground; near the figure is the well, the same mentioned by Mr. Hempstead in his narrative; and just beyond this is the old entrance, or sally-port, through which the enemy, under Bromfield, entered the fort. Over the entrance of the monument is the following inscription: This Monument was erected under the patronage of the State of Connecticut, A.D. 1830, and in the 55th year of the Independence of the U. S. A., In memory of the brave Patriots who fell in the massacre at Fort Griswold, near this spot, when the British under the command of the traitor Benedict Arnold, burned the towns of New London and Groton, and spread desolation and woe throughout this region. On the south side of the pedestal, toward the fort, on a large tablet, are the names of the eighty-five persons who were killed in the fort, over which is the following: "Zebulon and Naphtali were a people that jeoparded their lives until the death in the high places of the feld.-Judges, 5 chap., 18 verse." 3 See Swedenborg's Views of the Spiritual World, and Revelations of Davis, the clairvoyant. A Retrospect. The Pequots. English Expedition against them. Attack on their Fort. Pequot Hill. base of the monument were the ruined fortifications where patriot blood flowed in abundance; and at a glance might be seen every locality of interest connected with the burning of New London and the massacre at Groton. Here was Fort Griswold; there were Fort Trumbull and the city; and yonder, dwindling to the stature of a chessman, was the lighthouse, by whose beacon the arch-traitor and his murderous bands were guided into the harbor. Let us turn back two centuries, and what do we behold from this lofty observatory? The Thames is flowing in the midst of an unbroken forest, its bosom rippled only by the zephyr, the waterfowl, or the bark canoe. Here and there above the tree tops curls of blue smoke arise from the wigwams of the savages, and a savory smell of venison and fish comes up from the Groton shore. Around us spreads the broad fair land known as the Pequot country, extending from the Nahantic, on the west, to the dominion of the Narragansetsthe Rhode Island line on the east, and northward it interlocks with that of the Mohegans, where Uncas, the rebel sachem, afterward bore rule.' On yonder hill, a little southeast from our point of view, crowned with the stately oak and thick-leaved maple, is the royal residence of Sassacus, the prince of the Pequots. Haughty and insolent, he scorns every overture of friendship from the whites, and looks with contempt upon the rebellious doings of Uncas. Near by is his strong fort upon the Mystic River, and around him stand seven hundred warriors ready to do his bidding. The English are but a handful, what has he to fear? Much, very much! It is the season of flowers. The white sails of vessels flutter in Narraganset Bay May, 1637. (now the harbor of Newport), and Captain Mason and seventy-seven well-armed men kneel upon their decks in devotion, for it is the morning of the Christian Sabbath. On Tuesday they land. Miantonōmoh, the chief sachem, gives them audience, and a free passport through his country. Nor is this all; with two hundred of his tribe, Miantonōmoh joins the English on their march of forty miles through the wilderness toward the Mystic River; and the brave Niantics and the rebellious Mohegans, led by Uncas, swell the ranks, until five hundred savage « bowmen and spearmen" are in the train of Captain Mason. It is a clear moonlight night. Sheltered by huge rocks on the shore of the Mystic sleeps the little invading army,' while the unsuspecting Pequots in their fort near by are dancing and singing, filled with joy, because they have seen the pinnaces of the English sail by without stopping to do them harm, and believe that the Pale-faces dare not come nigh them. Little do they think that the tiger is already crouching to spring upon his prey! On that high hill, upon the right, is the Pequot fort. It is early dawn, and the little army is pressing on silently up the wooded slope. The Narragansets and Niantics, seized with fear, are lagging, while the eager English and Mohegans rush up to the attack. All but a sentinel are in a deep sleep. Too late he cries, "Owanux! Owanux!” "Englishmen! Englishmen !" The mounds are scaled; the entrance is forced; the palisades are June 5, 1637. 1 Uncas was of the royal blood of the Pequots, and a petty sachem under Sassacus. When the English first settled in Connecticut, he was in open rebellion against his prince. To save himself and be revenged on his adversary, he sought and obtained the alliance of the English, and when the Pequot nation was destroyed, Uncas became the powerful chief of that tribe of Pequots called the Mohegans, from the circumstance of their inhabiting the place called Mohegan, now Norwich. The Pequot country comprised the present towns of Waterford, New London, and Montville, on the west side of the Thames, and Groton, Stonington, and North Stonington, on the east of that river. Windham, and a part of Tolland county, on the north, was the Mohegan country. These are called Porter's Rocks, and are situated near Portersville, on the west side of the Mystic. They are on the shore, about half a mile south of the residence of Daniel Eldridge.-See Barber's Hist. Coll. of Conn., p. 313. 3 This hill, eight miles northeast from New London, is known at the present day by the name of Pequot Hill. It is a spot of much interest, aside from the commanding view obtained from its summit, as the place where the first regular conflict between the English and the natives of New England took place. Such was the terror which this event infused into the minds of the Indian tribes, that for nearly forty years they refrained from open war with the whites, and the colonies prospered. Sassacus was the terror of the New England coast tribes. Hill was the cause of the fear which seized the Narragansets. one god!" said Miantonōmoh; "nobody can kill him." A belief that he was in the fort on Pequot "Sassacus is in the fort! Sassacus is al Destruction of the Fort. Terrible Massacre. Departure of the English. Another Invasion. Destruction of the Pequots. broken down; the mattings of the wigwams and the dry bushes and logs of the fort are set on fire, and seven hundred men, women, and children, perish in the flames or by the sword! It is a dreadful sight, this slaughter of the strong, the beautiful, and the innocent; and yet, hear the commander of the assailants impiously exclaiming, "God is above us! He laughs his enemies and the enemies of the English to scorn, making them as a fiery oven. Thus does the Lord judge among the heathen, filling the place with dead bodies !''1 From the other fort near the Pequot (Thames), where dwells Sassacus, three hundred warriors approach with horrid yells and bent bows. But the English are too skillful, and too strongly armed with pike, and gun, and metal corselet, for those bare-limbed warriors, and they are scattered like chaff by the whirlwind of destruction. The English make their way to Groton; and yonder, just in time to receive them, before the remnant of the Pequots can rally and fall upon them, come their vessels around the remote headland. With a fair breeze, many of the English sail for Saybrook, making the air vocal with hymns of praise and thanksgiving. Others, with the Narragansets, march through the wilderness to the Connecticut River, and then, in happy reunion, warriors, soldiers, ministers, and magistrates join in a festival of triumph!" Stately and sullen sits Sassacus in his wigwam on yonder hill, as the remnant of his warriors gather around him and relate the sad fortunes of the day. They charge the whole terrible event to his haughtiness and misconduct, and tearing their hair, and stamping on the ground, menace him and his with destruction. But hark! the blast of a trumpet startles them; from the head waters of the Mystic come two hundred armed settlers from Massachusetts and Plymouth to seal the doom of the Pequots. Despair takes possession of Sassacus and his followers, and burning their wigwams and destroying their fort, they flee across the Pequot River westward, pursued by the English. What terrible destruction is wrought by the new invaders! Throughout the beautiful country bordering on the Sound wigwams and corn-fields are destroyed, and helpless men, women, and children are put to the sword. With Sassacus at their head, the doomed Pequots fly like deer pursued by hounds, and take shelter in Sasco Swamp, near Fairfield, where they all surrender to the English, except the chief and a few men who escape to the Mohawks. The final blow is struck which annihilated the once powerful Pequots, and the great Sassacus, the last of his royal race in power except Uncas, falls by the hand of an assassin, among the people who opened their protecting arms to receive him." The dark vision of cruelty melts away; smiling fields, and laden orchards, and busy towns, the products of a more enlightened and peaceful Christianity than that of two centuries. back, are around me. Russet corn-fields cover the hill-the royal seat of Sassacus-and in the bright harbor where the little English pinnaces, filled with bloody men, were just an 'See Captain Mason's Brief History of the Pequot War, published in Boston in 1738, from which the principal facts in this narrative are drawn. It makes one shudder to read the blasphemous allusions to the interposition of God in favor of the English which this narrative contains, as if "The poor Indian, whose untutor'd mind Sees God in clouds or hears him in the wind," was not an object of the care and love of the Deity. Happily, the time is rapidly passing by when men believe that they are doing God service by slaughtering, maiming, or in the least injuring with vengeful feelings any of his creatures. The English lost only two men killed and sixteen wounded, while the Indians lost nearly six hundred men and seventy wigwams. 3 The ostensible cause of this destructive war upon the Pequots was the fact that in March of that year, Sassacus, jealous of the English, had sent an expedition against the fort at Saybrook. The fort was attacked, and three soldiers were killed. In April they murdered several men and women at Wethersfield, carried away two girls, and destroyed twenty cows. The English, urged by fear and interest, resolved to chastise them, and terrible indeed was the infliction. "There did not remain a sannup or a squaw, a warrior or a child of the Pequot name. A nation had disappeared in a day!" The Mohegans, under Uncas, then became the most powerful tribe in that region, and soon afterward, as we have seen, they and the Narragansets, who assisted in the destruction of the Pequots, began a series of long and cruel wars against each other. Mrs. Anna Bailey. Her Mementoes and her Politics. Her Husband at Fort Griswold. The sun is near the meridian; let us chored, spreads many a sail of peaceful commerce. descend to the earth. From the monument, after sketching the picture on page 46, I returned to the village of Groton, on the river bank, and visited the patriarch-ess of the place, Mrs. Anna Bailey, familiarly known as "Mother Bailey." Her husband, Captain Elijah Bailey, who died a few weeks previous to my visit, was appointed postmaster of the place by President Jefferson, and held the office until his death, a lapse of forty years. He was MRS. BAILEY.! fort. They soon found were near. a lad about seventeen years old when New London was burned, and was in Fort Griswold just previous to the attack of Colonel Eyre. Young Bailey and a man named Williams were ordered by Ledyard to man a gun at the advanced redoubt, a little southeast of the fort. They were directed, in the event of not being able to maintain their ground, to retreat to the related this circumstance to me. She was then a girl six weeks older than her lover, and remembers every event of the "terrible day." I was agreeably surprised on being introduced to Mrs. Bailey, expecting to find a common, decrepit old woman. She sat reading her Bible, and received me with a quiet ease of manner, and a pleasant countenance, where, amid the wrinkles of old age, were lingering traces of youthful beauty. I had been forewarned that, if I wished to find any favor in her sight, I must not exhibit the least hue of Whiggery in politics-a subject which engrosses much of her thoughts and conversation. Her husband had been a Democrat of the old Jefferson school; and she possessed locks of hair, white, sandy, and grizzled, from the heads of Presidents Jackson and Van Buren, and of Colonel Richard M. Johnson, all of whom had honored her house by personal visits. With such precious mementoes, how could she be other than a Democrat? Almost the first words she uttered on my entrance were, "What are Cass's prospects in New York?" Forewarned, forearmed, I summoned to the support of my conscience all the possibilities in his favor, and told her that Mr. Cass would doubtless be elected President-at any rate, he ought to be. These words unlocked her kind feelings, and I passed an hour very agreeably with her. Her mind was active, and she related, in an interesting manner, many reminiscences of her youth and womanhood, among which was the following, in which she was the chief heroine. When the British squadron which drove Decatur into the harbor of New London, in 1813, menaced the town with bombardment, the military force that manned the forts were deficient in flannel for cannon cartridges. All that could be found in New London was sent to the forts, and a Mr. Latham, a neighbor of Mrs. Bailey, came to her at Groton seeking for more. She started out and collected all the little petticoats of children that she could find in town. "This is not half enough," said Latham, on her return. "You 1 While making this sketch, I remarked to Mrs. Bailey (and with sincerity, too) that I saw in her features evidence that Captain Bailey was a man of good taste. She immediately comprehended my meaning and the compliment, and replied, with a coquettish smile, "I was never ashamed of my face, and never mean to be." She lived happily with her husband for seventy years. Since the above was put in type, she has died. Her clothes took fire, and she was burned to death on the 10th of January, 1851, aged about 89 |