General Richard Montgomery and the American Revolution. Hal T. Shelton
also goes to Joseph Glatthaar, Chair, Department of History, University of Houston, who materially contributed to my endeavor through his renowned scholarship in military history.
This work could not have been written without access to the document collections of various research institutions and archives. The David Library of the American Revolution serves as the only depository and facility dedicated exclusively to this period of American history. I am greatly indebted to its President and Director, Ezra Stone, and its Director of Research, David J. Fowler, for their personal and professional association and the use of their fine resource center. The archival staffs at the New York Public Library, New-York Historical Society, and Princeton University Library were extremely competent and helpful in making available pertinent materials in their possession.
Funding played a significant role in bringing this book to fruition. I would like to express my gratitude to the University of Houston for the Robert Giesberg Award for Outstanding Teaching Fellow (1988), the Murry A. Miller Graduate Student Scholarship (1988-89), and the Graduate Student Research and Activity Scholarship (1989); and to the David Library of the American Revolution for its research grant (1988).
New York University Press served as the midwife of the manuscript. The finished product is due to the outstanding skill of its highly professional staff: Colin Jones, Director; Niko Pfund, Editor-in-Chief; Despina Papazoglou Gimbel, Managing Editor; and Jennifer Hammer, Assistant Editor. All patiently worked with me to convert my rough drafts into a comprehensible and publishable work.
Finally, I wish to thank my family—Myrtle Lynn Shelton, mother; Sutthida (Toi) Shelton, wife; Shane Shelton, son; Scott and Darla Shelton, son and daughter-in-law; Sheila and Derek Matthys, daughter and son-in-law—for their understanding and support. A writer’s task is sometimes a solitary one. These loved ones endured abandonment on many occasions in allowing me the time to complete my work.
CHAPTER ONE
Introduction
Brief, brave, and glorious was his young career,—
His mourners were two hosts—his friends and foes;
And fitly may the stranger, lingering here
Pray for his gallant spirit’s bright repose;
For he was Freedom’s champion, one of those,
The few in number, who had not o’erstept
The charter to chastise which she bestows
On such as wield her weapon; he had kept
The whiteness of his soul, and thus men o’er him wept1
At 3 A.M. on December 31, 1775, a band of desperate men stumbled forward in the middle of a dark night and during the worst of a Canadian winter storm. In the midst of gale-driven snow and sleet, the men’s labored breathing soon covered their faces with ice. The torturous weather caused physical pain and a numbness of the senses. They trudged along a narrow, jumbled path that followed the river lying below. A careless step could plunge a hapless individual onto the frozen stream that lay to one side of the slippery trail. Any rational being would have sought immediate relief from the hostile elements, but the leader to whom this group was committed exhorted them beyond individual concerns for comfort or safety.2
A mixture of New Yorkers and New Englanders, the members of this command joined the Continental army with short-term enlistments, many of which were due to expire in less than twenty-four hours. Although the military expedition had captured Fort Chambly, Fort St. Johns, and Montreal in recent encounters, rapid personnel turnover caused the unit to remain largely unseasoned. Most of the soldiers maintained a cavalier attitude toward military duty, disdaining martial discipline and regimen. They were also sectionalists, highly distrustful of anyone who came from outside their home region. This situation presented a great challenge to their leader. He most recently resided in New York but was an Irishman by birth and had served in the British Army. Through personal example on the battlefield, however, he was able to inspire this ragtag army and form it into an effective fighting force. The men respected his military experience and admired his brave and dauntless demeanor.
Therefore, these American patriots were grudgingly willing to endure the present hardship with the hope that the same storm that ravaged them would also provide a measure of protection. They trusted that the severe weather and darkness would conceal their presence from the enemy and thereby aid in their enterprise. Thus, there would be no turning back. The men covered the firing locks of their muskets with the lappets of their coats to protect them in firing order, leaned against the raging blizzard, and advanced toward the fortress-city of Quebec, where the British army awaited.3
After several more hours of struggle, the Continental soldiers reached the outskirts of Quebec and prepared to launch a planned, coordinated attack to seize the city. American military leaders considered Quebec a critical prize, since they believed it to be the key to the conquest of Canada. In September 1775, George Washington, the newly appointed commander in chief of the American army, expressed his thoughts on the significance of the capture of Quebec and the Canadian invasion when he stated that the operation was “of the utmost importance to the interest and liberties of America.”4
By 5 A.M., the American force initiated its assault. The commander of the attacking troops positioned himself in the front of his men, as was his custom during battle. Raising his sword in the air, he spurred the cold, wearied soldiers forward to follow his lead. After surmounting two unmanned defensive barricades, the American troops encountered yet another obstacle. This time, the British were waiting in ambush. Cannon grapeshot and musket fire rained upon the attackers from well-concealed positions within a blockhouse. The patriot leader crumpled to the ground. Gen. Richard Montgomery was dead of three grapeshot wounds fired at point-blank range.5
A member of Montgomery’s party reported that “the fatal stroke of losing our general, threw our troops into confusion.”6 The remaining Americans could not regain the offensive. Those attackers who survived the violent rebuff from the enemy retreated or were captured. Guy Carleton, the British commander of Quebec, summarized the operation by asserting that the attack “was soon repulsed with slaughter.”7 Without Montgomery’s leadership, the American offensive against Quebec turned into a disastrous failure.
The British force did not ascertain Montgomery’s death until the next day. The British sent out a party to survey the American dead at that time. With the cooperation of a captured Continental officer, the detail found and identified Montgomery’s body where he fell the day before. About three feet of accumulated snow partially obscured the solidly frozen remains, but his raised arm remained visible above the snow. The party also discovered his sword lying beside the body. Violent death had reduced this imposing figure of a military leader in life—tall, straight, lean, vibrant—to a grotesque, distorted form with knees drawn up toward the head.8
The British were almost as regretful of Montgomery’s death as the Americans. Gov. Guy Carleton and other British officers who defended Quebec against Montgomery’s attack had served with him earlier during the Seven Years’ War. Montgomery saw duty in the British army from 1756 to 1773, rising to the rank of captain before he sold his commission. He subsequently settled in New York, married Janet Livingston of the prominent Robert R. Livingston, Sr., family, and in 1775 took up arms against his former country when offered a brigadier general’s commission in the Continental army. Even though Montgomery changed allegiances, his former military acquaintances still respected his personal character and military leadership ability.9 Guy Carleton ordered Montgomery’s body decently buried within Quebec.10
Soon after his death, Edmund Burke, an opposition statesman, delivered an eloquent and moving eulogy of Montgomery in the British Parliament. Prime Minister Lord Frederick North, however, became agitated by this discourse and replied: “I cannot join in lamenting the death of Montgomery as a public loss. A curse on his virtues! They’ve undone this country. He was brave, he was noble, he was humane, he was generous: but still he was only a brave,