“Not just chusing to take the Bull by the horns we disappointed Washington and turned his Right.”1
— James Grant, October 20, 1777
The British rank and file were itching for battle. After being cooped up on ships for weeks and now having spent several days idling along the Elk River, they were ready to move. Would Washington risk his Continental Army in battle? Howe thought not. “I am of opinion,” he wrote Lord Germain, “it will be a difficult matter to bring them to a general action, even though it should be in defense of Philadelphia.”
In the same dispatch to Germain, Howe downplayed the recent American successes in the northern department against Burgoyne. “I cannot presume to say what credit is to be given to the successes of the rebels in that quarter,” offered Howe, “but as their accounts of successes are in general much exaggerated, I am hopeful, even should theirs be true, that he [Burgoyne] will not be prevented from pursuing the advantages he has already gained with so much honour to himself.” Unfortunately for Howe and the British cause in North America, the reports of American victories on the northern front were accurate, and Burgoyne’s situation was rapidly deteriorating.2
Once on dry land Howe was ready to risk major combat. He had repeatedly avoided a pitch battle in northern New Jersey, but the campaign season was winding down and he had to bring Washington to battle. An American officer captured on September 1 would have agreed with Howe that Washington wanted to avoid a major battle. Admiral Howe’s secretary, Ambrose Serle, overheard the man comment on the situation: “Washington, in his present Situation, cannot avoid Battle. He is a Fool, however, if he risques one.”3
Knowing he would almost certainly have to fight, Washington was readying his defense for that possibility. Cooch’s Bridge carried the main road to Wilmington across Christiana Creek just east of Iron Hill. Some of Washington’s officers believed Christiana Creek offered a better defensive position than Red Clay Creek, but the only men Washington had there were Maxwell’s light infantry and some militia. On the east side of the creek was a road system and open terrain, “by which an extended line might readily be supplied.” On the west side around the base of Iron Hill were woods that offered excellent terrain for ambushes and skirmishing with the enemy. Lastly, the Christiana was a deeper and better defensive moat than the Red Clay.4
Although Nathanael Greene strongly recommended moving the entire army to the position, Washington disapproved. He did, however, direct Maxwell to be alert and “[watc]hfull and guarded on all the Roads. It will be well to place some of your [men] at the pass on the Road” continued Washington, “which has been represented to be so advantageous, attending at the same time to the rest. If the Enemy come on they will be well posted and may have an [opp]ortunity of annoying them greatly.”5
When Maxwell moved into the area, his men not only occupied Iron Hill but also extended themselves about a mile south along the road leading to Aiken’s Tavern. The terrain was studded with ambush positions. At the intersection of the King’s Highway (the road to Wilmington) with the road to Aiken’s Tavern, just west of Cooch’s Bridge, stood the Cooch grist mill, and on a small rise nearby stood the family home of Thomas Cooch. The family, however, was long gone, having fled to Pennsylvania to escape the dangers of warfare.6
Howe’s army began moving on the morning of September 3. The general decided to cut loose from the fleet, always a risky logistical move. However, the lethargic voyage meant that few supplies remained on the ships. General Howe informed his brother he would allow him 10 days to reach New Castle, Delaware, before initiating major action against Washington’s army. The time would allow the army to continue gathering supplies and to outmaneuver Washington into Pennsylvania. Two infantry battalions under James Grant would remain at Head of Elk until the last of the British ships left the Elk River. As historian John Reed noted, “Howe could have easily crossed the Maryland-Delaware peninsula and there awaited the fleet, but this would have had the same effect as an original landing on the Delaware, and would have little explained to London the excessively long voyage into the Chesapeake.”7
While enough horses had recovered or been procured to move the artillery and wagons, many of the light dragoons remained dismounted. Although Howe had enough of these cavalrymen for scouting the American positions, they could not “be used to perform the classic functions of screening and pursuit.” This deficiency would plague Howe for weeks.8
In an effort to outflank the American positions on Iron Hill, the British moved to the south of that position and headed toward Aiken’s Tavern. Crossing the Mason-Dixon line (surveyed between 1763 and 1767) into what originally had been the three lower counties of Pennsylvania, the British easily outflanked Maxwell’s light infantry. The route Howe chose also allowed Gen. Knyphausen to rejoin the main army after foraging around Cecil Courthouse. The German’s detached column returned with horses, cattle, and other livestock much needed by the army. When the army reached Aiken’s Tavern, Howe made the structure his headquarters.9
Johann Ewald was ordered to take six mounted jaegers and ride north toward Iron Hill to determine whether the Americans had reacted to the British movement. They had not gone far when an American detachment ambushed the seven men. A volley of gunfire rippled from behind a hedge, killing or wounding all six of Ewald’s mounted jaegers. Ewald’s normally calm horse was wounded in the belly and “reared so high several times that I expected it would throw me,” recorded the Hessian officer, who had somehow escaped the hail of lead balls. Ewald called forward the foot jaegers still some distance behind him.10
A running two-mile fight developed as some 400 jaegers pushed north toward Cooch’s Mill and the bridge spanning Christiana Creek. Foreshadowing what would occur eight days later along the Brandywine, Maxwell, through a series of small ambushes carried out by his novice light infantry, slowed the British advance. Iron Hill towered above the surrounding countryside as the jaegers approached the mill, the high ground studded with Maxwell’s Continentals.11
Alerted to the fighting, Howe rode to the front to observe the unfolding situation. Once he understood what was transpiring, he ordered the jaegers to assault the hill. “The charge was sounded, and the enemy was attacked so severely and with such spirit by the jaegers,” reported Ewald, “that we became masters of the mountain after a seven-hour engagement.” The protracted combat included a two-front fight. While some of Maxwell’s men were indeed upon Iron Hill, others had run across Cooch’s Bridge and were fighting from the opposite side of Christiana Creek. Late in the engagement, Howe pushed forward additional element to support the exhausted jaegers. The 1st Light Infantry Battalion attempted to come up on the left flank, but was slowed by swampy ground. The inability of the light infantry to negotiate the swamp, explained Montresor, “prevented this little spirited affair from becoming so decisive.” The 2nd Light Infantry Battalion arrived on the jaegers’ right, followed by the British grenadiers. It was the arrival of these fresh troops that allowed the jaegers to dash across the bridge and drive the Americans away from Christiana Creek.12
The two bodies of troops that faced each other that September day consisted of men who intended to take advantage of cover and pick off their opponents. The result was an unexpected and difficult slog for the Jaegers, who recorded the pesky opposition in their Corps Journal. “They were driven back into another woods with considerable effort,” admitted the chronicler. “Here they defended themselves obstinately.” Maxwell’s light infantry had indeed fought “obstinately,” but exhausted their ammunition doing so. Ludwig von Wurmb, commander of the jaegers, recalled that when the Americans ran out of powder and shot, “we went after them with the sword and made them flee.” The withdrawal—or flight—of Maxwell’s command toward Christiana Bridge was so disorganized “that great numbers threw down their arms and blankets” and left several dead and wounded behind on the ground. Despite its length, the combat resulted in fewer than 100 casualties combined for the two armies.13
Howe was overjoyed with the performance of the jaegers and light infantrymen. “They went on in ye most covered country you ever saw with more (I think) than their usual spirit,” reported the general. “Their perfidity [fervor] was so great that ye Granadiers who were as willing to have had their share in ye business as could be wisht, could hardly keep up to support them in a run.” Always fond of his light infantry, Howe may have seen some humor in the fact that the grenadiers had been unable to get into the fight. The view from the other side was also upbeat. Despite the fact that his men were eventually forced back, Washington was generally pleased with their performance, and told Congress as much. “This Morning the Enemy came out with considerable force and three pieces of Artillery, against our Light advanced Corps,” he reported, “and after some pretty smart skirmishing obliged them to retreat, being far inferior in number and without Cannon.” The engagement proved to Washington’s satisfaction that Maxwell’s light infantry could serve the same purpose Morgan’s men had for the army.14
The engagement at Cooch’s Bridge was not a major affair and had no effect on the outcome of the campaign or the war. However, by brushing aside the Americans, Howe eliminated the threat against the new British camp at Aiken’s Tavern and cleared Iron Hill of enemy troops.15
Despite a fairly solid performance, Maxwell and other officers attracted criticism. Lieutenant Colonel Louis Casimir and Baron de Holtzendorff scoffed at the performance. The baron, who had served on Frederick the Great’s staff and authored a book on tactics, conversed with Congressman Henry Laurens, who claimed, “Baron Holzendorff this minute from Camp tells me one of our Generals misbehaved. The Enemy had Cannon, we had none, our Troops retreated…. The Baron whispers—‘Your Soldiers my Dear Colonel are very good Mans, so good as any brave Mans in the World, but your Officers my Dear Colonel your Officers’—& then bursts his soft Laugh. I understand him and & believe he is pretty just in his meaning.”16
Following the engagement at Cooch’s Bridge, Maxwell retreated to the main American position behind Red Clay Creek. Howe’s army camped near the battlefield, with the Brigade of Guards settled on Iron Hill, the grenadiers and light infantry on the east bank of Christiana Creek, and everyone else spread between Iron Hill and Aiken’s Tavern. Howe’s left flank now rested on Iron Hill with his right flank just south of Aiken’s Tavern. His army would remain in this position for the next five days.17
The British found themselves in an interesting position. The view from atop Iron Hill was as commanding as it was instructive. About seven miles to the east was the Delaware River—their immediate destination now within view. A turn in the opposite direction revealed the miles they had just traversed from Head of Elk and the upper reaches of the Chesapeake Bay. The optimistic among them saw their salvation in the Delaware. The pessimistic, when glancing back toward Turkey Point, noted the time wasted at sea. By September 4, the British fleet was no longer in the Chesapeake. The men knew they would be without tents and other “necessaries” until they reached Philadelphia.18
The news of the British advance, coupled with the defeat at Cooch’s Bridge, spread panic once again throughout Philadelphia. Prominent patriots prepared to move to inland towns. Supplies and materials that might benefit the British were removed to Reading and other places in the backcountry. Congress and the state authorities, meanwhile, made arrangements to move to Baltimore and Lancaster, respectively.19
By September 5, Washington was busy stripping the Delaware River defenses of every available Continental soldier and militiaman to reinforce his main army confronting Howe. A muster of the river fortifications taken that day indicated the following troop strengths:
Three rows of chevaux-de-frise jammed the river between Fort Mifflin and Fort Mercer. Congress’s Navy Board recommended that Hog Island, Province Island, and Carpenters’ Island all be flooded. The Board also suggested flatboats be used to bridge the channel between Fort Mifflin and Province Island. Washington requested that the Middle Ferry Bridge on the Schuylkill River be removed to the Delaware and that all boats be moved to prevent them from falling into enemy hands. At the same time, Washington ordered the banks of Darby Creek cut to overflow Province Island. Washington was doing all he could to see that, if the British fleet returned to the Delaware, its passage up to the American capital would not be an easy one.20
Realizing that a major engagement for the capital was now all but inevitable, Washington issued a general order dated September 5 in an effort to steel his men’s nerves: “Should they [the British] push their design against Philadelphia, on this route, their all is at stake—they will put the contest on the event of a single battle: If they are overthrown, they are utterly undone—the war is at an end,” he exhorted, though with some exaggeration. He continued: “Now then is the time for our most strenuous exertions. One bold stroke will free the land from rapine, devastations & burnings, and female innocence from brutal lust and violence…. If we behave like men this Third campaign will be our last.”21
The next day Washington moved his headquarters from Wilmington to Newport and sent off the army’s baggage in preparation for a possible fight. Joseph Clark, adjutant to Adam Stephen, commented on the day’s events: “All the heavy Baggage was sent off to Brandywine, expecting next morning to make the attack, but the enemy did not come on, so nothing was done this day but fortifying; parapet walls were thrown up to a great extent, trees felled to secure the flanks & important passes.” Washington also wanted the men to strip down and travel as lightly as possible. The officers, he ordered, “should only retain their blankets, great coats, and three or four shifts of under cloaths, and that the men should, besides what they have on, keep only a Blanket, and a shirt a piece, and such as have it, a great coat—All trunks, chests, boxes, other bedding and cloaths, than those mentioned, to be sent away.”22
Convinced that Howe would drive straight toward Philadelphia using the King’s Road through Wilmington from Cooch’s Bridge, he deployed his troops in depth along Red Clay Creek from Newport toward Marshallton. John Sullivan’s division anchored the American right, with Lord Stirling’s division in place on Sullivan’s left. Adam Stephen’s division formed a second line behind Stirling’s men, with Anthony Wayne’s Pennsylvanians behind Stephen’s troops forming a third and final line. Off to the right, behind Sullivan, Nathanael Greene moved his division into position. Scouting parties from the 2nd and 4th Continental Light Dragoons fanned out in front of the army to keep a watchful eye on the British camps, a move that triggered a series of skirmishes from September 3 to September 8.23
Washington was clearly bracing for major combat along Red Clay Creek, which begs the question of whether he gave serious consideration to Howe’s possible courses of action. Howe had never resorted to a frontal assault against Washington’s Continental Army. At Long Island, White Plains, Short Hills, and most recently, Cooch’s Bridge, Howe employed flanking movements to gain the ground he wanted without a bloody direct attack. And now, here along Red Clay Creek, that option was once again open to him. What convinced Washington that Howe would change his tactics from successful maneuvering and flanking remains something of a mystery. Nevertheless, the Continental Army constructed major entrenchments, including abatis—sharpened tree branches—to block the main roads and studded its lines with an impressive array of artillery. If Howe did choose to assault Philadelphia directly along this route, Washington and his army would be ready to meet him.24
Skirmishing between the two armies continued while the main British army remained largely idle at Aiken’s Tavern. According to Friedrich von Muenchhausen, “the rebel patrols, which usually consist of 10 to 15 dragoons and 20 to 30 infantrymen, now appear more often, and they fire at our posts occasionally.” American deserters also continued to ride their mounts into the British camps to sell them. “Many dragoons of the rebels have deserted. Undoubtedly the amount of money they get from us for their mounts is the reason,” explained von Muenchhausen. With the last of the British ships having now sailed, James Grant marched with his two battalions on September 6 to rejoin the main British Army.25
The next day, September 7, orders coursed through the British Army to be prepared to march the following morning. The army would move in three divisions. The first, under Cornwallis, included the jaegers, the British light infantry, the British and Hessian grenadiers, and the Brigade of Guards. The second division, commanded by James Grant, included two troops of the 16th Light Dragoons, two brigades of artillery, the four British infantry brigades, a battalion of the 71st Highlanders, and the baggage train. The third and final division, under Knyphausen, comprised a brigade of artillery, the Hessian infantry brigade, the other two troops of the 16th Light Dragoons, the 40th Regiment of Foot, the other two battalions of the 71st Highlanders, the Queen’s Rangers, and Ferguson’s riflemen.26
In anticipation of a British attack, Washington reiterated his previous directive to strip down and issued the following general orders: “The enemy have disencumbered themselves of all their baggage, even to their tents, reserving only their blankets, and such part of their clothing as is absolutely necessary—This indicates a speedy & rapid movement, and points out the necessity of following the example, and ridding ourselves for a few days of every thing we can possibly dispense with.”27
The reports of orders to travel light, coupled with the departing British fleet convinced Washington that Howe was going over to the tactical offensive. With his men ready to fight, he issued another impassioned appeal to his army, this one referencing successes on the northern front opposite Burgoyne’s army:
Who can forbear to emulate their noble spirit? Who is there without ambition, to share with them, the applauses of their countrymen, and of all posterity, as the defenders of Liberty, and the procurers of peace and happiness to millions in the present and future generations? Two years we have maintained the war and struggled with difficulties innumerable. But the prospect has since brightened, and our affairs put on a better face—Now is the time to reap the fruits of all our toils and dangers! … The eyes of all America, and of Europe are turned upon us…. [G]lory awaits to crown the brave—and peace—freedom and happiness will be the rewards of victory.28
Washington’s tireless efforts were paying off. The morale of the army had soared, their defensive position was strong, and the men were ready for a pitched battle with Howe’s professional army. “Our troops will stand a very hot engagement,” affirmed one man in the ranks. “I believe the General is determined to stand it to the last before he’ll suffer the enemy to git Philadelphia.”29
The major battle Washington expected did not occur. The British Army did indeed depart its camps between Cooch’s Bridge and Aiken’s Tavern on September 8 before daylight—but Washington’s entrenched army never saw it. Rather than head east against his position, as Washington anticipated, Howe marched north past Iron Hill, leaving the coastal plains of the Delmarva Peninsula to move into the hilly country beyond. Howe’s order of march remained as previously noted, with General Cornwallis’s division in the lead, followed by General Grant men. General Knyphausen’s command, meanwhile, brought up the rear.30
The British army marched through Newark, Delaware, that afternoon. Ensign Carl Ruffer of the von Mirbach Regiment described the community as “a very pleasantly built city of about sixty houses, but completely uninhabited. Also, now and again, very pleasing country homes which previous to this time we had seldom encountered in this area because it is rather thinly settled.” James Parker agreed. “The country is entirely deserted,” he observed. “We pass the Village of Newark, remarkable for Sedition & Presbeterian sermons, the inhabitants had all left their houses.” Captain Francis Downman of the Royal Artillery commented on similar matters, but went on to describe the difficulties of the march: “We went through Newark, a deserted and destroyed village. The front and centre of the army got to the heights of [Hockessin] in the afternoon after a very disagreeable march of 16 hours without anything to eat, and almost suffocated with dust, owing to the vast train of baggage wagons and cattle that were in front.”31
After passing through Newark the army crossed well north of Washington’s right flank at White Clay Creek, “which was surrounded on both sides by steep, rocky heights that formed a most frightful defile half an hour in length.” Ewald, leading the column with the jaegers, was at a loss to understand why the Americans had not defended the position, “where a hundred riflemen could have held up the army a whole day and killed many men.” As he moved through the area, Ewald remembered his “hair stood on end as we crammed into the defile, and I imagined nothing more certain than an unexpected attack at the moment when we would have barely stuck our nose out of the defile. For the precipitous rocks on both sides of the creek and along the defile were so steep that no one could scale them.” But no one was there to shoot at the jaegers. Three days later, during the battle of the Brandywine, Ewald and his jaegers would face a similar defile.32
After negotiating the difficult crossing of White Clay Creek, the army reached Hockessin, where Howe established his headquarters in the Nicholas house. If he continued on this course, the road Howe had chosen would take him to Lancaster via Gap, Pennsylvania.33
One of the most inexplicable occurrences of the campaign was the “day’s” march—which is exactly the word artilleryman Downman used—conclusion at 10:00 a.m. For reasons that remain unclear, Howe halted after marching just 10 miles. He had organized and pulled off a difficult flanking march without a single American being the wiser for it. Had he chosen, he could have easily turned Washington’s right flank and trapped the Continentals below Wilmington. Philadelphia would have fallen without a major engagement. His decision to stop provided Washington the time he needed to discover Howe was gone, learn the British Army’s new location, and get his own army in motion toward the Pennsylvania border.34
While the British Army moved north, sliding past Washington’s prepared positions, the Continental Army, for the most part, sat idle. John Armstrong, commander of the Pennsylvania militia, fully expected a battle, stating that “this morning we expected the approach of the Enemy & yet continue to look for their movemt…. The Army generally are in good Spirits & look for Action.” Joseph Clark, the quartermaster for Stephen’s division, believed the same thing: “By Monday morning everything was in readiness for an engagement; the Troops marched down and took post in the entrenchments and went through the exercise. The reserved corps took their station at a proper distance and performed several manoevers.”35
Howe used a bit of deception by pushing elements of the British Army to within two miles of Washington’s position as though to attack, but his intent was merely to cover the main army’s passage through Newark toward the Pennsylvania border. Once Washington realized Howe was no longer in his front in strength, and was in fact moving to his right toward the Pennsylvania border, he sent out Maxwell, along with George Weedon’s brigade. Later in the day, explained Clark, “word came by a light horseman that the enemy were advancing very fast. Our troops were kept in readiness and a large scout sent out under the command of Gen’l Maxwell, who in their route fired several times upon the enemy.” The exchange of fire never exceeded minor skirmishing, the bulk of which erupted near Hockessin late in the evening. Howe easily brushed aside the Americans with jaegers and light infantry.36
The unfolding of Howe’s plans impressed many of his senior officers. “All marched in one column, and to our great surprise,” wrote Howe’s aide von Muenchhausen, “instead of taking the road by way of Christiana Bridge to Wilmington as expected, we went to our left by way of White Clay Creek and Newark…. [E]veryone is pleased with the good march and the fact that it was kept a secret, thus cutting off Washington from Lancaster.” The British officers were as surprised by the march as Washington. Just a day before the movement, Howe’s senior Hessian aide speculated that they were going to move straight toward the American position. “Everyone believes—and it is very plausible— that we shall take the main road by way of Christiana Bridge to Wilmington where we will meet our fleet in the Delaware,” von Muenchhausen wrote at the time. “Washington who certainly suspects such a move, has put up some fortifications and abatis at Christiana Bridge.” Francis Downman chimed in on the effect of the march. “We did not meet with the smallest interference in our march from the rebels,” confirmed the Royal artilleryman, “for we took a different road to that which they expected, and where they had raised works and collected a force.”
The vocal and always opinionated James Grant also recorded his observations on the rather clever maneuver. “Not just chusing to take the Bull by the horns we disappointed Washington and turned his Right the 8th by a forced march from Pencader by Newark to New Garden,” the general boasted, “a handsome Move of 14 Miles which He did not think us equal to, knowing the state of our carriages & in fact was so much disconcerted upon finding that We might by a subsequent Move get possession of the Heights of Wilmington, that He quit his Camp in the night & fled with precipitation over the Brandy Wine.”37
The British move left Washington scrambling to reestablish his position by moonlight, shifting his army to find new defensive ground to get his troops between Howe and Philadelphia. Joseph Clark recalled that the army had a good position, “such that the enemy could not pass that way to Philadelphia without meeting our army, and thereby bringing on a general engagement…. [T]hey, this night,” Clark continued, “by a road, with good guides, got privately round our right wing of encampment and was advancing towards Philadelphia by the Lancaster road; we, however, got word of it in time, and the whole army moved at 1 or 2 o’clock at night.” Fortunately for Clark, he was made aware of the early morning movement when another officer he was sharing a house with was notified that the army was moving. The brigade’s major, wrote a relieved Clark, “woke me up and we came off in the night and joined the army before day.”38
Washington did his best to couch the stolen march in a positive light. “The Enemy advanced towards us Yesterday with a seeming intention of attacking our post near New port,” he explained in a letter to William Smallwood, who was organizing the Maryland militia. “We waited for them all day, but upon reconnoitering their situation in the Evening, we judged they only meant to amuse us in Front, while they marched by our right flank and gained the Heights of Brandiwine. Viewing things in this light, and the consequences that would necessarily follow if such an event took place,” continued Washington, “It was thought advisable that we should change our ground and gain the Heights before ‘em. This we are attempting, and I doubt [not] shall effect.” Left with no choice, late on the night of September 8 and early the next morning, the Continental Army pulled out of its defensive position, marched north on a route closely parallel with Howe’s, and crossed into Chester County, Pennsylvania.39
It is not clear why Washington assumed Howe was heading for Chads’s Ford on the Brandywine River. Multiple American officers, in letters and diaries, acknowledged the same belief. That night the British forces were camped along a road leading to Lancaster, not Philadelphia. American storehouses at Lancaster, York, and Reading were a logical target, and targeting them was something Washington should have feared. Howe was now between Washington and those storehouses, and there was little the Americans could do about it. Even if they could have gotten around Howe to protect the stores, such a move would have left the capital unprotected. Perhaps it was that knowledge that convinced Washington to protect the one thing he could still defend—Philadelphia.
Once outflanked from Red Clay Creek, the next defensible ground south of Philadelphia was at the Brandywine River. The main route across the Brandywine, the Great Post Road, used Chads’s Ford. If Washington made the decision that night to get around Howe to protect Philadelphia, then Chads’s Ford on the Brandywine was the logical place to take his army.40
By the time the sun rose on September 9, elements of both armies were moving into Chester County, one of the three original counties established in Pennsylvania by William Penn. The village of Chester (founded as Upland by the Swedes in the late 1630s) on the Delaware River was the site of the earliest European settlement in the state. The earliest settlement in the Brandywine Valley seems to have been established in the late 1600s. The name Brandywine probably derived from Andren Brainwinde, a Dutch settler who moved into the area around 1670. The valley’s landscape closely resembles parts of England and Wales, making the location a natural choice for settlers. Quaker and Baptist meetinghouses were in place nearby as of 1718.
Chester County was mainly rural, with no towns of any significant size. Its rolling hills were covered with thick hardwood forests of chestnut, hickory, and oak, and the well-watered limestone topsoil was some of the best on the continent. “This region of Pennsylvania is extremely mountainous and traversed by thick forests; nevertheless it is very well cultivated and very fertile,” observed Hessian Johann Ewald. The majority of the residents were farmers. According to James Lemon’s Best Poor Man’s Country, an average landholding in Birmingham Township, where most of the fighting would soon take place, was 110-133 acres.41
Local families grew and made most of what they ate or used, supplementing remaining needs with trips to Wilmington or Philadelphia. Farm life was regulated by the seasons. During a typical September, the buckwheat fields, which would be harvested the following month, were in full bloom. Orchards dotted the region with apples and peaches ripe for the picking; cherry trees had recently yielded their fruit. Farm families plowed empty fields to plant winter wheat and rye, re-stuffed beds with straw, weeded gardens, hauled wood ash to the fields, brewed beer, and bagged and sorted seeds. A discerning eye would pick out smaller fields of flax, used for making linen. The tall corn needed for animal fodder was still green in September.42
Christopher Marshall, an elderly apothecary who had a shop in Philadelphia, had moved out to the country in the spring of 1777 to get away from the disease and political tensions pulsing through the capital city. The region impressed him. “Now the Indian Corn & Buckwheat makes a pleasing object, add to which the trees bending beneath the ripening Fruits, Herds of Cows, and Oxen keep fattening on luxuriant Pastures, yet my heart is heavy in the Contemplation of the distress that our once happy Land is now plunged in.” The armies were drawing close. “Cast thy Eyes down into Chester County see the numbers there engaged in the Mutual Destruction of our friends and Country men, by a Banditi Sent by a monster headed by a villain, guided and directed by Rascalls and Trators to their Country,” continued Marshall. “My heart recoils at the thought of such numbers of fine plantations pillaged laid wast and ruined.”43
Except for iron manufacturing in the Schuylkill River valley, Chester County had no large-scale industry. Even after the Revolution, the Brandywine River valley never developed into an active trading or manufacturing center. However, there had always been a sprinkling of artisans or craftsmen to augment the self-sufficient husbandry men. It was not unusual for a farmer to also practice a trade, such as cabinetmaking or blacksmithing. Weaving was a cottage industry, and itinerant butchers, tailors, and cordwainers traveled the county.
Chester County boasted a population of 21,000 people when Washington and Howe brought war within its borders, about 500 of whom were slaves. Only the county seat, Chester, had a population of 200 (by 1800). The rest of the “urban” population resided in tiny hamlets at crossroads centered on taverns, mills, and ferries. Blacksmith shops, other shops, and tanneries also provided natural meeting places. Shopkeepers or affluent farmers sometimes provided local banking services and distilled liquor for their neighbors. The most prosperous farmers usually operated grist mills, and by 1777 several were in place along the Brandywine and its tributaries. These included Butcher’s textile mill, Fred’s and Chads’s grist mills, and Jones’s and Brinton’s Mills farther north. Milling persisted in the battlefield region well into the 20th century.44
Although almost exclusively rural, the major road linking Philadelphia with other cities farther south passed right through Chester County, and the American capital was within a day’s journey of most of the county. Philadelphia drew the county’s trade, its farmers exporting one-third to one-half of their wheat crop through the city, which also provided professional services and served as the county’s religious, political, social, and cultural center. In addition to its farmers and millers, the region was home to a variety cabinetmakers, clockmakers, doctors, self-taught mathematicians, and scientists, with several members of the American Philosophical Society among them.
The intercourse between the county and Philadelphia kept the area in touch with the events of the day, but the region was far enough away from the commercial center to be self-reliant and able to live separately from Philadelphia, if necessary. The restrictive trade laws imposed by England that fueled the Revolution had little effect on the everyday life of the county’s local residents.
New England soldier Elkannah Watson left perhaps the most descriptive contemporary narrative of the region, one that emphasized the contrast between freedom and slavery:
Most of the slopes of the hill-sides are laid out into regular farms, and are under high cultivation. The verdure of the fields, and the neatness and superior tillage of the farms in the rich vales, were so grateful to the eye, after being long accustomed to southern aspects…. The contrast, so obvious and so strong, in the appearance of these farms and of the southern plantations, will strike every observer, and can be imputed to but one cause. Here we witness the impulses and results of honest industry, where freemen labor for themselves. There we see the feeble efforts of coerced labor, performed by the enervated slave, uninspired by personal interest, and unimpelled by a worthy ambition. These distinctions are perceptible even between Maryland and Pennsylvania, separated only by an imaginary line.”45
Indeed, the armies were shifting from an area distinctly southern in character to a region much more northern in sensibilities. Traditional southern culture was well known for its open hospitality and warmth. The same could not be said of Pennsylvania in general and rural regions in particular, where residents were much more aloof and resistant to displays of friendship and hospitality. One writer attributes this emotional distance, at least partly, to the “quietism” of the Quakers and many German sects, “who generally frowned upon outward display and, beyond commerce and marketing, mostly kept to themselves.”46
Only a small proportion of the area’s population supported the war. Most remained neutral for religious reasons or leaned toward the English side of the ledger. The eastern townships, where the battle of the Brandywine would be fought, had been settled largely by British Quakers for nearly a century, and Quakers comprised about 40 percent of Chester County’s entire population. Their neutrality garnered contempt from the American soldiers, who viewed the Quakers as little more than Loyalists for not supporting the military effort to sever ties with England. “The villainous Quakers,” complained Nathanael Greene in a letter to his wife, “are employd upon every quarter to serve the enemy. Some of them are confind and more deserve it.” Joseph Townsend, a young man growing up along the Brandywine River and a Quaker, disagreed with Greene’s characterization. “A majority of the inhabitants were of the Society of Friends, who could not consistently with their principles take any active part in the war,” he explained, “and who generally believed it right to remain at their dwellings, and patiently submit to whatever suffering might be their lot, and trust their all to a kind protecting Providence.”47
The populace in southeastern Pennsylvania—neutral, loyalist, or otherwise—was consumed with fear that September. Reports from New Jersey of British burning and pillaging had filtered into the region. Civilians were especially worried about the Hessians, who had a well-earned reputation for looting and cruelty. “Here are some of the most distressing scenes imaginable,” Gen. Greene wrote his wife. “The Inhabitants generally desert their houses, furniture moveing, Cattle driving and women and children traveling off on foot. The country all resounds with the cries of the people. The Enemy plunder most amazingly.”48
By the evening of September 9, Washington’s army had marched a dozen miles from Red Clay Creek and crossed the Brandywine River at Pyle’s Ford, about one mile south of Chads’s Ford. Good marching and prompt decision-making regained the defensive advantage Washington had lost the previous day. His men were now behind yet another formidable body of water and between Howe and Philadelphia. According to a member of the 1st Continental Light Dragoons, the men had “set off with all the Baggage to Dilworths Tavern,” which was about one mile northeast behind the new Continental defensive positions. Through at least September 9, Washington kept his baggage train close to the army.49
The march into Pennsylvania exhausted the men. One Pennsylvania officer remembered “being extremely fatigued for want of rest and severe marching.” Well aware of both the good marching his men had just performed and their exhaustion, Washington included in his general orders for the day that, “such of the troops as have not been served with Rum to day, are as soon as possible to be served with a gill a man.” Providing the men with liquor after some special service or fatiguing march was common practice for both armies throughout the war, and the men appreciated the gesture nearly as much as they did the alcohol. Washington also ordered that the “Major and Brigadier Generals of the day, accompanied by the Quarter Mr General, will immediately reconnoiter the environs of the camp; and fix on the proper places for the posting of picquets, for its security.”50
* * *
While the American Army was on the move, Howe’s army was also heading north on a parallel course. In the middle of the day, the British crossed the Delaware state line into New Garden Township, Pennsylvania. As one German officer recalled, “the inhabitants of this region are generally Quakers, who since they did not want to participate in the war, did not flee, but arrived in crowds and asked for protection. Here, in this area, the army found an abundance of everything, through which the insatiable appetite of the soldier was satisfied to the greatest extent.” Another jaeger officer also noted the differences between Pennsylvania and other places he had been. “I must note here in Pennsylvania, that the inhabitants are encountered everywhere. This province is more loyal to the King than all the others. Therefore,” he concluded, “nothing is taken from the inhabitants.” While the jaegers may not have been widely plundering private property during their move into Pennsylvania, pillaging by the British Army as a whole would soon plague the entire region.51
Howe’s army moved along two roads in two columns. General Wilhelm von Knyphausen’s column reached Kennett Square, approximately six miles west of Chads’s Ford, late that night. Washington’s men were positioned on the opposite side of the ford, and Wilmington was only a dozen miles distant. Howe originally intended for Knyphausen to stop at New Garden Meetinghouse, and sent von Muenchhausen forward with some dragoons to halt him. “The General [Howe] assumed that he would be able to catch up with General Knyphausen before he reached New Garden Meeting because his march would be slowed down by the large amount of baggage, cattle etc,” explained von Muenchhausen. “We also were instructed to inform General Knyphausen that he should march early the next morning toward Kennett Square with the greatest precaution, because Washington’s foreposts were already at Welch’s Tavern.” Welch’s Tavern was just to the east of Kennett Square. By the time Howe’s aide caught up with Knyphausen, however, he was already entering Kennett Square. “It was absolutely impossible for him to return to New Garden Meeting because of the loaded wagons and the ravined roads,” von Muenchhausen continued. “Knyphausen permitted no fires, and was as quiet as possible, so that Washington who was nearby, would not discover his presence.” Knyphausen’s division camped on the eastern side of the village.52
Howe’s second column marched into Kennett Square early the next morning under Gen. Charles Cornwallis and then another a good hour or so beyond to the right as far as East Marlborough, where it finally went into camp. For all intents and purposes, Howe’s army was once again reunited.53
The roads the British Army took to reach Kennett Square were not of the highest quality. Many were quite narrow, and rain on the night of September 9 made moving the artillery and heavy baggage wagons even more difficult than usual. Engineer John Montresor described “[o]ur march this day about 6 miles through an amazingly strong country, being a succession of large hills, rather sudden with narrow vales, in short an entire defile.” Since much of the movement occurred at night, brigades became separated from one another. Making sense of directions during the dark, wet night was often problematic, especially at the various crossroads along the way. “The line of baggage was produced, by the badness of the road and insufficiency of the horses, to a very great length,” recorded Capt. Andre, “and the 4th Brigade, which was in front of it, had by quickening their pace to reach General Knyphausen, gained so much upon the carriages that there was a space of two or three miles between them. It was with some difficulty at a cross-road that it was ascertained which way the front of the column had passed.”54
Howe’s move shifted his army into Pennsylvania to a point just west of the Brandywine River. The Americans, who were digging in behind the stream, were once again within reach for a general engagement. Eight days had passed since Howe cut loose from the fleet, and just two days remained until he was expected to meet up with his brother and the supply ships at New Castle.
Howe spent September 10 sending out scouting parties to learn all he could about the terrain from local Loyalists. Washington did much the same thing in an effort to glean knowledge about the roads and terrain along the Brandywine River. Knowledge—or lack thereof—of the roads and surrounding terrain would be play a large part in the battle about to be waged.