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History That Doesn't Suck
13 (Second Edition): The Battle of the Chesapeake & the World Turns Upside Down at Yorktown
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- [00:02]
Greg Jackson
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- [00:30]
Kristen
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- [00:57]
Greg Jackson
Welcome to History that Doesn't Suck. I'm your professor, Greg Jackson, and as in the classroom, my goal here is to make rigorously researched history come to life. As your storyteller, each episode is the result of laborious research with no agenda other than making the past come to life as you learn. If you'd like to help support this work, receive ad free episodes, bonus content and other exclusive perks. I invite you to join the HTDS membership program. Sign up for a seven day free trial today at htspodcast.com membership or click the link in the episode notes. It's a hot summer's night between 9pm and 10pm Sunday, June 3, 1781. Captain Jack Jewett Jr. Or just Jack as he's known to distinguish him from his father, is at the Cuckoo Tavern. Louisa, Virginia what brings this young Virginian and militia officer here tonight, and whether he's dining or just enjoying an ale, we don't know. But regardless of those details, he soon takes note of some British soldiers. Does a group of them come into the tavern for a dram? Does Jack spy the total British force of 180 dragoons and 70 mounted infantry from a window? These and other versions will long be passed on a Yet somehow the athletic, towering Virginian learns that this sizable band of redcoats, led by the dreaded Lt. Col. Bannister Tarleton, is passing through town and in a hurry. Well, that's enough information for Jack to figure out what they're up to. They must be going to Charlottesville, since the traitorous General Benedict Arnold's forces put the capital of Richmond to the torch in January. Charlottesville is where the Virginia government is meeting tomorrow. But good God, Tarleton must intend to capture the legislature and Governor Thomas Jefferson. Well then, there isn't a moment to lose. Mounting his swift thoroughbred shortly after the British depart, Jack rides hard into the dark night. The bright moon is fortunate. Unable to travel the same highway as the British without getting caught, Jack is on the back roads, navigating ruts and overgrown brush and and wooded terrain. But even with the moonlight, Jack's face regretfully finds a low hanging tree branch somewhere upon this hours long 40 mile ride, it leaves a deep cut and scar that will stick with him for the rest of his Life. It's now 4:30am, not even dawn. Having made incredible time, Jack pulls on the reins, bringing his likewise exhausted and trusty steed to a halt. He's still two miles from Charlottesville, but this is his first stop. Jack dismounts and walks the dirt path leading to an impressive two story and columned brick plantation home atop a gentle hill. It lacks its future iconic dome, but that and other major renovations won't get underway until 1796, after the owner returns from France with new architectural inspiration. That's right, this is Monticello, the home of Virginia Governor Thomas Jefferson. Stepping inside, the 26 year old muscular 6 foot 4 militia captain warns the 39 year old lanky 6 foot 2 red headed governor of the approaching British forces. Tom thanks him with a glass of wine. Madeira, naturally. And as Jack rides off to warn legislators in nearby Charlottesville, the governor moves decisively to order up breakfast for his family and legislators that he's hosting. Okay, a little odd, but I suppose the primary author of the Declaration of Independence turned governor of a besieged state has experienced enough false warnings not to get worked up easily. After breakfast, the legislators depart while enslaved valets hide valuables and Tom secures documents. When a neighbor brings a second warning though, a carriage whisks away Tom's family. His wife Martha, AKA Patty, and their two daughters. While Tom returns to his papers. It's now approaching 7:30, nearly three hours since Jack's warning. Tom's pushing his luck. Yet he can't help his inquisitive mind. He has to see things for himself. Grabbing his spyglass, the gangly governor sends nearby Carter's Mountain. Here, high above his beloved Monticello and Charlottesville, he peers through the magnifying scope. Nope, no British troops. Just the lush green of Virginia. Another false call, it seems. He begins descending, but soon realizes that he left his Sword cane behind, he turns around. Back at the peak, Tom figures he might as well look one more time. He extends his miniature telescope, holds it to his eye, and oh. British dragoons. Filled with a new sense of urgency at the sight, Tom flies down the mountain, jumps on his horse named Caractacus, after the first century A.D. britain, who fought against the Roman Empire, and rides hard to catch up with his family. Only minutes after Tom departs, Lt. Col. Banister Tarleton's forces ride up to Monticello. As they do, Tom's enslaved valet, Martin Hemmings, is out front under the portico. Not to get ahead of ourselves, but to answer your question, yes, he and Sally Hemmings are related. Half siblings, anyhow. An unnamed dragoon approaches Martin. Drawing his pistol, the Brit aims it right at his chest, while telling Martin that he can either give up Tom's hiding place or be shot. Yet, despite being unarmed, outnumbered and a slave addressing a British soldier, Martin doesn't cower. He defiantly answers, fire away, then. And hazarding his life for Tom, Martin effectively calls the soldier's bluff. He doesn't shoot. The only damage the British do at Monticello, if we are to believe apocryphal tales, is to drink some of Tom's wine in a toast to King George III, whose birthday is today. His Majesty is turning 43. But back in Charlottesville, Tarleton's men are being far more forceful. The British destroy a cache of 1,000 guns, 400 barrels of black powder, clothes intended for Continental troops, and a whole lot of tobacco. They also catch seven members of Virginia's legislature. In fact, just before they arrived at Charlottesville, they even caught a member of the Continental Congress. Tom may have escaped the British Dragoon's clutches, but Virginia is in a world of hurt, and it's a terrible look for its fleeing governor. Welcome to history. That doesn't suck. I'm your professor, Greg Jackson, and I'd like to tell you a story. A rough day for Governor Thomas Jefferson. Actually, the British have made much of his second year as the Old Dominion's governor. Pretty rough. Let me fill you in. This started more than six months back in late 1780, when the commander in chief of British forces in North America, Sir Henry Clinton, who's still based in New York, ordered the treasonous expatriate turned British Brigadier General Benedict Arnold to Virginia with a force of 1500 to support Virginia loyalists and cut off supplies or reinforcements that might otherwise get to the more southern states. You know where Lord Charles Cornwallis was carrying out the real British offensive that we've heard about in the last two episodes, the Southern Strategy. That's how Benedict's men ended up putting buildings along Virginia's James river, including parts of Richmond, to the flame earlier this year in January 1781. Nor did Benedict and his boys leave. They only fell back to the Chesapeake Bay, to Portsmouth, Virginia, where British Major General William Phillips took command command when he and his 2500 joined them in March. Ah. And as we know from the last episode, March 1781 was also when the British commander in the South, Lord Cornwallis, limped away from his Pyrrhic victory over Continental General Nathaniel the fight in Quaker Greene at North Carolina's Guilford Courthouse with the conviction that the Lower south can only be subdued if Virginia was first. Hence, he sent Banastor Tarleton with 250 riders on their secret mission to capture Virginia's legislature and governor in early June. So, yes, a rough one two combo for Tom to deal with, but not unforeseeable. George Washington had warned Tom to step up Virginia's defenses. He didn't. And now, on June 12, only days after Tarleton's raid, an angry state legislature resolves to thank Jack Jewett and to make an official inquiry into Governor Jefferson's conduct. Now, they ultimately decide that the Virginia governorship itself is so limited that it tied to Tom's hands. But even with that mitigating out, the investigation cuts sensitive Tom to the core. He may not have wanted to be governor in the first place, but this is not the legacy he wanted to leave behind. Well, as you can see, the fighting is coalescing in the Old Dominion, but we're just getting started. Today we get to the definitive battle, or should I say two definitive battles of the Revolution, both of which are fought among the land and waters of Virginia. First is the Naval Battle of the Chesapeake, and second is the far more famous battle or siege of Yorktown. Now, we already know that there are two British forces in Virginia by mid-1781, one being General William Phillips's and Benedict Arnold's combined army, and separately, those under Lord Cornwallis. But there are a lot of other people and decisions that lead to Yorktown, including a lot of Frenchmen. So we'll begin this tale by heading back to January so we can meet more of these individuals as we follow the path that leads to the epic age of sail battle of the Chesapeake between the French and the British, deemed by some to be the most important naval battle in world history. And from there, we'll continue onward to the Franco American Alliance's siege of British held Yorktown. And of course, I'll add more details about the British as we go too. Sound good? Then let's kick this off. And we begin, believe it or not, with George Washington facing down a mutiny. Rewind. It's early morning, January 27, 1781. We're at the Continental Army's Pompton camp in or near what will later become blue Bloomingdale, New Jersey, where Continental General Robert Howe's 600 men are rounding up 200 other continentals, all of the New Jersey line. Emerging from their huts unarmed and terrified, the New Jerseyans obediently march out to the parade field. It's the first obedient thing some of these mutinous soldiers have done in the past week. One of Robert's officers, Lt. Col. Ebenezer Sprout, then has three sergeants identified as mutiny ringleaders. They're brought forward for an immediate field court martial. Okay, this trial is going to be fast, but let's use this brief pause in the action to get you up to speed. This all started on January 1st, when the 2,400 strong rum drunk Pennsylvania lion camping in nearby Morristown mutinied. Now it's hard to argue that their grievances about starving, freezing from a lack of clothing and not receiving pay in over a year weren't fair. Especially as new recruits were receiving cash bonuses. Yeah, fair enough. That's why Pennsylvania's President of the Supreme Executive Council, Joseph Reid, acquiesced to most of their demands. But that taught these New Jerseyans that mutiny leads to negotiation. Well, the last thing George Washington needs right now is Continental's thinking that mutiny pays. Especially with the British encouraging desertion. That's why he sent Robert Howe with orders to send a very different message to the Continental army today. Mutiny will not be tolerated. And with that, let's return to this court martial. The on the spot tribunal sentences all three sergeants to death. First is Sergeant David Gilmore, dragged before all, he's shoved down on his knees in the cold snow. As 12 of the most mutinous soldiers are handed firearms, they will serve as the firing squad. Tears stream down their just as guilty faces as they're forced to load and prepare to kill a man they know and love. With three aiming at the head, three at the heart, and six ready to finish him off if he somehow survives. They fire. The process repeats with Sergeant John Tuttle. Again, the firing squad aims at a beloved, kneeling Continental brother and fires. Last is Sergeant Major George Grant. But just before the execution can happen, the regiment's officers intercede, insisting that George was a reluctant and respectful leader of this revolt with a long and strong track record. He's pardoned and and with great relief falls in with his fellow repentant New Jerseyans. General Robert Howe's actions at Pompton were precisely in line with Continental Commander George Washington's orders to compel the mutineers to unconditional submission and execute on the spot a few of the principal incendiaries. George takes no pleasure in this. He knows the real enemy is their lack of resources. For years now, George Washington's been frustrated by the all but worthless Continental dollar and the inability of an all but powerless Congress to marshal needed and basic resources like food and clothing for the Continental Army. It's a situation that won't get any better either, even as the Articles of Confederation comes to life five weeks after the suppression of the New Jersey Line Mutiny, when Maryland, the last of the 13 states, ratifies it on March 1, 1781. I already gave you the details for this essentially first constitution for the United States in episode 11, but I'll remind you here that the Articles protect state sovereignty to such an extreme that the Congress of this Confederated Union, or League of Friendship, to quote the Articles, still can't even tax. Thus, Georgia's Continental army remains threadbare and running on fumes. And not to get ahead of ourselves, but it's also fueling George's and Alexander Hamilton's convictions that this Union needs a stronger government. That said, sympathetic as George is to the plight of his men, so patriotic that even in their mutiny they refused to entertain offers from the British to desert and clarify, with a reference to last year's most famous turncoat, that they weren't turning Arnolds, the towering Virginia knows that the army will fall apart and take the dream of America with it if they lose discipline. So an example had to be made of the New Jersey mutineers. And it works. The Continental army is back in line. For now. This lack of resources also helps us understand why George hasn't been more aggressive in the past two and a half years, since the Battle of Monmouth in the summer of 78. He lacks the finances to build the strength. The best he's been able to do as the British Southern Strategy took the main fight to Georgia and the Carolinas, is to keep an eye on the ever so cautious British commander in chief in North America, Sir Henry Clinton, as he sits in New York. So it's been, apart from some small skirmishes, a stalemate up North. Honestly If George is ever to have the resources to do more, his only real hope is the French. Ah, France. The United States, great ally. Let's recap the alliance before plunging ahead. So far, we've met individual crucial volunteers like the Marquis de Lafayette, whom George Washington loves like a son. But as we learned in episode nine, France became an official ally of the United States in February 1778. Which is why, as we saw in episode 10, French Vice Admiral Comte d'Estaing showed up with 16 ships and 4,000 troops that summer. Alas, his efforts at Newport that year and the disaster at Savannah in 1779 all went badly. But largely thanks to Lafayette's pleas, France sent a new French commander last year in the summer of 1780. Jean Baptiste d'Ontien de Vimaire, or Comte de Rochambeau. He brought a small navy and an army of roughly 5,500 men. They've been holing up in Rhode island ever since. Rochambeau and George Washington have had a few chats. Through the winter of 1780-81, George has pushed for taking on his British counterpart, Sir Henry Clinton in New York. But Rochambeau hasn't ever agreed. That's not because he's apathetic or disrespectful. The smart, experienced, stocky, short, 55 year old French general with a scar on his face and a limp in his step is simply opposed to taking what he sees as rash action. And while George is nominally in charge, both of them know that's just a charade. One that the amiable but not yet aligned in vision duo will keep up even as they dance around each other. For instance, that February, when a storm damages enough British ships to give the French temporary naval superiority, George urges Rochambeau to carry out a quick attack on Benedict Arnold. Now vulnerably positioned in Portsmouth, Virginia, the Continental commander is already sending Lafayette by land with 1200American Light Infantry. And he hopes that if Rochambeau can attack by sea, they might even capture the traitor Benedict and put him to death. But not being in agreement, the French commander takes his time, thereby losing this small window of opportunity. After a small battle at sea, his navy returns to Newport, Rhode island and continues to wait. Yeah, sorry, George, you're just not really calling the shots now. As we established earlier, it's just a month after this, in March 1781, that British ships bring General William Phillips to Portsmouth to reinforce and take command of the turncoat general's small army. This enlarged British presence in the Chesapeake Bay creates all sorts of Havoc for the Franco American allies. As British ships get the better of the French at the Battle of CAPE Henry On March 16, George Washington debates whether to bring Lafayette back north or to keep him in the south, perhaps even having him head to the Carolinas to help General Nathaniel Greene. Meanwhile, the Virginia native continental commander is also deeply embarrassed that April when the Marquis writes to tell him that his estate manager, Lund Washington saved Mount Vernon from invading redcoats by giving them aid. George writes to Lund, it would have been a less painful circumstance to me to have heard that in consequence of your non compliance with their request, they had burnt my house and laid the plantation in ruins. Gotta give it to George. He's always ready to lay it all on the line for the cause of America. But back to Lafayette. After exchanging more letters with George and much marching, including a return to Maryland, the faithful Frenchman ends up becoming the hero of Virginia. In a mad dash southward, the Marquis gets his small army to Richmond on April 29th. They arrive just before British General William Phillips. 2,300 Redcoats the thus saving Virginia's capital from yet another raid. Lafayette takes particular joy in stopping this invasion with his far smaller force. See, William Phillips commanded the artillery unit that killed Lafayette's father in Prussia during the Seven Years War. Not even two years old at the time, Lafayette has dreamed of revenge his whole life. He's basically the French version of Inigo Montoya from the cult classic the Princess Bride. But alas, Lafayette won't get to exact vengeance. It's malaria or typhoid that ends William's life on May 15, 1781, only five days before his army's rendezvous with Lord Cornwallis. Ah, Lord Cornwallis. We already know that this aggressive British general thinks that crushing Virginia is the answer to cowering the Southern states into submission. And on May 20, he comes to Virginia, absorbing the men formerly under the command of the now deceased William Phillips at Petersburg. It must be a devastating moment, given that the two generals have been close friends since the Seven Years War. But his Lordship now has an army that's 7200 strong. He intends to batter Lafayette's small, ill supplied force. As Lord Cornwallis boasts in a letter intercepted by the Patriots, the boy cannot escape me. Honestly, the boy that is the Marquis de Lafayette, knows that's not far from the truth. The young Frenchman writes to George on May 24, was I to fight a battle? I'll be cut to pieces, the militia dispersed and the arms lost. I am not strong enough even to get beaten. But Lafayette will do the best he can under these circumstances. I am therefore determined to skirmish but not to engage too far, he explains to George. In other words, Lafayette will run as Lord Cornwallis pursues. But while Lafayette and Lord Cornwallis play cat and mouse in Virginia, George Washington and Rochambeau are making plans up north. They're emboldened by additional resources. Oh, no. Thanks to that dysfunctional as ever Congress, but thanks to France. Now stationed in Paris with Benjamin Franklin, Georgia's longtime aide de camp, John Laurence, writes that King Louis is not only lending more money, but making a gift of 6 million livres. Meanwhile, as George and Rochambeau meet at Wethersfield, Connecticut between May 21st and 22nd, they agree on paper to attack Sir Henry Clinton's headquarters in New York. But in truth, Rochambeau has other plans. See, our stout French general held something back while they discussed the possibility of Francois Joseph Paul le Comte Grasse, bringing his massive Caribbean based fleet up to support an attack. Rochambeau is only presenting that as a possibility rather than fact to George. Perhaps things are a little icy since the Virginian general's private letter complaining about him got intercepted by the British and published in a Loyalist newspaper. Oh, George was deeply apologetic. But more likely, Rochambeau is simply keeping up the fiction that George is in charge while making what he wants to happen. The real plan. Wanting to hit Virginia rather than the Big Apple, and knowing George will pivot if the French fleet does, he secretly writes to de Glasse heavily suggesting that he might prefer to take his fleet to the Chesapeake Bay rather than New York. Not surprisingly, that's just what de Glasse decides to do. Let me make two clarifying points about Rochambeau's little head fake. One, he and George do get along quite well. Just because he doesn't trust George completely doesn't mean that they hate each other. Two, while the experienced French military man is smart and capable, don't mistake him for having the foresight to plan a trap for Lord Cornwallis at Yorktown. Keep the dates straight. Lord Cornwallis took command of British troops in Virginia on May 20th. George and Rochambeau met on May 21st through the 22nd. Given how slowly news travels in the 18th century, the French general doesn't know what his Lordship is up to. Rochambeau wants to hit Virginia because the fortification, first established by Benedict Arnold months ago in the Chesapeake Bay and the British ships supporting it look like lower hanging fruit than New York. Nobody, including Lord Cornwallis himself, knows yet that he'll eventually get trapped at Yorktown. But you know what is funny. George helps create Lord Cornwallis future trap with a letter he writes to Lafayette on May 31. In it, the Commander in Chief mentions his agreement with Rochambeau to attack New York. Upon a full consideration of our affairs, in every point of view, an attempt upon New York was deemed preferable to a Southern operation. But this letter doesn't make it to Lafayette. It's intercepted by the British and put in the hands of Sir Henry up in New York about a week later in early June. This letter describes the cautious and calculating British commander's greatest fear. A combined Franco American attack on New York. I mean the Americans don't really concern him, but if the well funded and fed French attack him at the same time, that could prove devastating. Sir Henry writes to Lord Cornwallis with clear orders to set up a fortification in the Chesapeake Bay and send reinforcements to New York asap. This is frustrating and confusing news to his Lordship. Now he and his more cautious and indecisive New York based commander, Sir Henry Clinton have long been at odds personally and on strategy. Sir Henry has feared an attack on New York for quite a while. At the same time, Lord Cornwallis has wanted to push hard in Virginia. But now George Washington's intercepted letter is settling their dispute in the worst of ways. As Lord Cornwallis stays in the Old Dominion but sends infantry, cavalry and artillery as well as Benedict Arnold up north. His Lordship lands one last solid victory in a skirmish with Lafayette near Virginia's coast at green spring on July 6, but then stops trying to conquer Virginia to instead build a fortification in the Chesapeake Bay as ordered. Come August 2nd they'll settle on building that at Yorktown. Thus it is, as George Washington's biographer Thomas Flexner writes, that Washington's strategy set the trap which Rochambeau's secret plans were to close. Still awaiting the French fleet, George's and Rochambeau's armies unite on July 6, 1781. They do so at Dobbs Ferry, roughly 20 miles north of British held New York City. The sight of the well funded and fed French soldiers next to the impoverished Continentals is jarring. One French officer observes, it is incredible that soldiers composed of men of every age, even of children of 15, of whites and blacks, almost naked, unpaid and rather poorly fed, can march so well and stand fire so steadfastly. He has one explanation for this miracle. George Washington, whom everyone regards as his father and friend. Come mid August, George learns that the Comte de Grasse and his fleet is indeed sailing for North America. What a relief. But he's heading to The Chesapeake Bay, not New York. Also, he has to return to the Caribbean in mid October. George is displeased, but accepts that his wish to attack New York to redeem the city he so painfully lost in 1776, will have to go unrealized. This campaign will happen in his home state of Virginia, which means that it's time for this American and French, but mostly French army of some 7thousand to move 450 miles southward so it can hook up with Lafayette and the Americans under his command at Williamsburg. But before they depart, George pulls one last fast one on Sir Henry Clinton by whipping up some fake plans for an attack on New York City via Staten island and making sure that they fall into the hands of British spies. While American engineers build a convincing military camp to support such an attack. It's brilliant. By the time Sir Henry realizes this is a ruse, George, Rochambeau and their armies are well on their way to Virginia. And it's far too late for Sir Henry to warn Lord Cornwallis. Still, with so much on the line, the Continental commander, who's been burned by false promises so many times, can't help but wonder as they trek southward, will Comte de Grace really come? George gets his answer a few weeks later. It's early morning, September 5, 1781. French General Rochambeau and his staff are on a small vessel drifting down the Delaware River. Their stunning view of Philadelphia has disappeared from sight. And now they're sipping tea and eating buttered bread as they enjoy the natural beauty surrounding them. But it's not long before the Frenchmen hear a voice distantly shouting. They then notice a speck of blue on the river's edge. In the distance, near the town of Chester, more details become apparent as they draw closer. It's a man alright. An officer. He's jumping frantically, waving a hat and a handkerchief. Actually, this is a large man. It kind of looks like George Washington, but of course a reserved man such as His Excellency would never behave like that. No, that's him. It's George. Closing in on the Virginian general, they can make out what he's saying. De Grasse. De Grass. Yes. George, who anxiously went ahead of everyone else, has confirmed that the French fleet is here, about 200 miles south as the crow flies, anchored in the entrance to the Chesapeake Bay, blocking off the only route by which the British fleet could rescue Lord Cornwallis. George couldn't be happier. Perhaps no one could be happier. As the Duc de Lauzun will later recall, I never saw a man so thoroughly and openly delighted. But as Rochambeau docks and he and George greet each other in a warm embrace, little do they know that the Grasses blockade is about to face its greatest test. Just this very morning, perhaps at this very minute, the Frenchman sailors are spying sails on the horizon. The sails of the British fleet. That's right, the Battle of the Chesapeake is about to begin. Hey there, Ryan Reynolds here. It's a new year and you know what that means. No, not the Diet Resolutions. A way for us all to try and do a little bit better than we did last year. And my resolution, unlike big wireless, is to not be a raging and raise the price of wireless on you every chance I get. Give it a try@mintmobile.com switch $45 upfront payment required equivalent to $15 per month new customers on first 3 month plan only taxes and fees, extra speed slower above 40gb on unlimited. See mintmobile.com for details.
- [33:04]
Kristen
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- [33:43]
Greg Jackson
10 in the morning, September 5, 1781. An impressive French fleet of 24 ships of the line are lying at anchor northwest of Cape Henry, just inside the entrance of the Chesapeake Bay. With them are two frigates patrolling the waters. The commander of this mighty French fleet is Lieutenant General or Lieutenant Vice Admiral Comte de Grace. A towering blue blooded Frenchman in his late 50s. De Glasse knows that blockading this massive bay is crucial to preventing either Lord Cornwallis from fleeing New York, or likewise, the Sandy Hook, New Jersey based British fleet from coming to the rescue. That's why he's had his fleet holding this position since arriving in the Chesapeake almost a week ago on August 30th. What suddenly? Suddenly the relative calm on board the 104 gun flagship Ville de Paris is broken as de Grasse receives word of sails spotted in the distance. Might it be Comte de Barras and his squadron coming down from Rhode Island? No. Far too many sails. Only one answer then, under the command of Rear Admiral Thomas graves, it's the 19 ships of the line and eight frigates. Strong British fleet. Douglas has more vessels, but what awful timing. Right now a few other ships and 2000 of his best sailors are beyond reach deeper in the bay, transporting French soldiers up the James river to join Lafayette at Williamsburg. The British also have the weather gauge, but none of this discourages Du class. Standing at 6 foot 2, his men claim he grows to 6 foot 6 during battle. Reckless as he is talented, the Frenchman not only accepts this battle for the bay, but welcomes it, bellowing out the order lines de Vitesse, that is line of speed. This means his ships won't form a line according to their trained positions, but sheer speed of arrival. At 12 noon, as the tide ebbs, all two dozen French ships of the line slip through their cables and begin this bold, brash and risky attack. Over the next two hours, both fleets close in on one another just east of Cape Henry. As they do, the dangers of the Ligne de Vitesse leave a French vanguard of four ships isolated miles ahead of most of the fleet. An enormous advantage for the British. Ah, but British confusion over signaling results in most of their fleet falling behind too. Looks like this battle will be fought mostly between the two fleet's vanguards. And with the north wind shifting 33 degrees to the east, the fighting will be close indeed. The bloodbath begins just after 4pm with the brilliant tactician Louis Antoine de bougainville of the 80 gun Auguste leading the French vanguard. He takes advantage of the British approach to blast them with raking fire. But even as the Shrewsbury is disabled, the British van's leader, Sir Francis Samuel Drake of the eighty gun Princessa, remains undaunted. Taking his nocks, he guides his ships into position to return fire. Blinding smoke fills the previously blue skies as thousands of cannonballs, some weighing in at almost 40 pounds, crash into hulls, masts and men, all no more than a pistol shot, disappear distance away. But as flying shards of wood lacerate and bodies fall dead, the thousands of sailors on both sides bravely fight on, even undertaking deadly on the spot repairs. For instance, when de Bougainville tries to offer cash to get a volunteer to attempt a dangerous bowline repair that had already killed two others, one sailor answers, mon capitaine, we do not go there for money. And with that, he ascends the rigging willingly, risking his life for the good of the Auguste. And to Bougainville's delight, the man succeeds. Both fleets close in, bringing more ships into the battle. But darkness and sheer fatigue bring an end to the cannon fire. By 6:30 that night, the French have two severely damaged ships and just over 200 dead and wounded. Meanwhile, the British have six badly damaged ships, including the Princessa and more than 300 casualties. Thus, this crucial naval battle, fought by over 30,000 non Americans and whose outcome could determine the outcome of the entire war, is won by the French, largely thanks to de Bougainville. De Grasse remains in control of the bay, and Lord Cornwallis remains trapped in Yorktown. The two fleets attend to repairs in sight of each other over the next few days. De Glace attempts to attack, but Thomas Graves effectively evades another engagement. On September 10, more French warships arrive. Yes, it's de Barras with the Nieuport based French squadron. This means Comte de Grasse now has 36 ships of the line, which is an incredible navy by any means of measurement. And on top of that, he captures two British frigates as well. Now hopelessly outnumbered British Admiral Thomas Graves knows he's done for if he stays in these waters. After scuttling a heavily damaged and waterlogged ship of the line, the Terrible, he and his injured fleet begin sailing back north on September 13th. In doing so, they're leaving Lord Cornwallis to fend for himself against the Franco American forces now gathering at Williamsburg, just a mere 15 miles away from his Lordship's fortification at Yorktown. In fact, it's just the day after the British fleet departs September 14 that Generals George Washington and Comte de Rochambeau arrive. Colonel St. George Tucker of the Virginia Militia writes to his wife that when Lafayette sees George, the Marquis caught the general round his body, hugged him as close as possible, and absolutely kissed him from ear to ear once or twice with as much ardor as ever an absent lover kissed his mistress on his return. It must have been quite the sight for Colonel Tucker, likely unfamiliar with the French greeting of la bise, or the kiss in which someone goes cheek to cheek with a friend or loved one while kissing the air. But I love how he mentions that Lafayette may have repeated the process twice for a total of four kisses. Although the exact number of typical kisses varies by region in France, some French add more when it's a well overdue greeting. And given that it's been months since these two have seen each other, and a particularly dangerous few months for Lafayette, I can't help but speculate that the Colonel captured a truly tender moment as the young fatherless Frenchman let his adoptive American father know just how Ravi he was to be reunited. Beyond George and Lafayette, a lot of notable friends we've made in the past several episodes are showing up as well. Some of the best known include our favorite, well read, scrappy Bostonian and King of Cannons, Henry Knox. Henry's fellow New Englander freed from British captivity through a prisoner exchange and itching to pay back the British for taking Charleston. Benjamin Lincoln, the German drillmaster who spent his summer supporting Lafayette here in Virginia. Baron von Steuben, the recently returned from France with cash and supplies, John Lawrence. And despite leaving George Washington's staff early this year after a warm dispute between them, the brilliant Caribbean born Alexander Hamilton, who's here commanding a New York Light infantry battalion. It may have taken three threatening to resign from the Continental army, but finally George has agreed and Alex can now risk his life for battlefield glory. We'll see what comes of that. But to round out this roll call, even if slightly repetitive, I would most certainly be remiss not to name our more recently arrived French friends. The brilliant, stout general Comte de Rochambeau, the French naval squadron commander who came to North America with him last year, Comte de Barras. And of course, our intrepid French fleet commander who so recently sent the British fleet fleeing. Comte de Grasse. As for the forces that they've brought to bear, we the 2,000 men George Washington's led from New York. Lafayette's 7,000. Yes, he originally came to Virginia with only 1,200 men, but his numbers increased after connecting with Generals von Steuben and Anthony Wayne. Add to that a few hundred others who are excitedly showing up. Now that victory looks easy. This includes George Washington's stepson Jackie Custis, who suddenly wants to be his aide. George allows it, but I bet his biographer, Ron Chernow is right in calling this a belated stint of service that must have awakened mixed feelings in Washington. Anyhow, this puts us around a total of 9,500American troops, two thirds of whom are Continentals, the rest militia. Meanwhile, General Rochambeau's men number as many as 5,500, which combined with Vice Admiral de Grasse's more than 3,000, is estimated to be between 7,000 and 8,800 French troops. The combined Franco American army then, is around 18,000 strong. It's just barely more American than French, unless we include the French Navy, which we should. De Grasse's fleet is manned by 15,000 sailors. Including them, there are far more French than Americans at Yorktown. These numbers, which only go higher still when we add the British, are enormous for the era, a fact that historian Nathaniel Philbrick forcefully makes by pointing out that this heavily French gathering of some 40,000 men means that for a few brief weeks in the autumn of 1781, the largest concentration of people in North America existed not in Philadelphia, the most populous city in America, but on and around the peninsula between the York and James rivers. Oh, and what are the Brits numbers? Lord Cornwallis is defending with about 8,000 redcoats, Hessians and Loyalists. Yeah, good luck, your lordship. But we are corn. Quite ready for the siege yet. As Continentals militiamen and French soldiers continue flocking to Williamsburg through September 24, George is heading out on the Chesapeake to finally meet the commander of the French fleet. Let's join him. It's late morning, September 18, 1781. George Washington, Henry Knox, Comte de Rochambeau and plenty of other officers are on board a British ship turned French prize, the Queen Charlotte. They've sailed about 30 miles down the James river and into the Chesapeake Bay, then crossed about another 30 miles of water to reach the bay's entrance. And now the site before them is magnificent. Some three dozen ships of the line with masts reaching about 200ft into the air, as high as the tallest church steeples in a mountain America. They seem to scrape the very heavens. Each vessel is like a city unto itself. This is the fleet of French Vice Admiral Comte de Grasse. Once anchored, the visiting American and French brass make their way from the Queen Charlotte to de Grasse's flagship, La Vieux de Paris. With a crew of 1300 souls. Massive sails, endless, glistening high glow wood and a quarter deck decorated with flowers and other plants. It's as stunning of a sight up close as it was from a distance. And shortly after the party boards, the Vice Admiral emerges. Yes, it's Le Comte de Grasse. Seeing one another in person, it turns out that the towering, well built Frenchman is actually slightly bigger than George Washington. A surprise undoubtedly. Undoubtedly to many. And according to legend, the quick witted admiral doesn't miss the unique opportunity this presents him. Approaching the American commander, De Grasse throws his arms around George, exclaiming mon cher petit general. Which translates as my dear little general. Hefty Henry Knox. And others roar with laughter. As for the famously formal George, he has to be mortified. After all, if the legend is true, this is the third time in as many weeks that he's been embraced by a Frenchman. And having never met De Glace previously, this is undoubtedly the least comfortable of those embraces. But light hearted as this anecdote might be, their meeting that day is far more serious. As Comte de Grasse largely holds to his tight schedule, he agrees to keep his fleet here two weeks longer than planned. That is until November 1, before returning to the Caribbean. But that's still only six weeks away. They certainly have the numbers to win. But can this Franco American force crack Lord Cornwallis defenses within such a short period of time? Once again, George Washington can't help but worry that their well laid plans may yet unravel at the seams. At 4am on September 28, 1781, the Franco American alliance begins moving out of Williamsburg, Virginia. Their 15 or so mile eastward march cuts through both wooded lands and and fields of tobacco and corn. With the York river to their north and the James river to their south, both of which empty into the Comte de Grace blockaded Chesapeake Bay, this massive army is moving farther down the Virginia peninsula to a quaint town turned British fortification on the southern bank of the York river, just a few miles before it empties into the bay. This is Yorktown, and today marks the beginning of the battle, or siege. To take it from Lord Cornwallis, the army, or rather allied armies, set up camp just to the south of the town. The Americans to its southeast, the French to the southwest. Together they form a semicircle surrounding Yorktown. Lord Cornwallis defenses are strong, but they are no match for General Rochambeau and his engineers. Having participated in 14 sieges through his long military career, the French general tells George Washington that unless serious British reinforcements arrive, they've already won. Even better, on September 30, the Franco American force finds that in husbanding his precious resources, Lord Cornwallis has already abandoned the redoubts, I.e. earthen fortifications that made up his outer perimeter. Huh. All the better for the Allies. They quickly take these over. Across the next several days, the French and Americans occupy and repair their new redoubts, bring in equipment and otherwise prepare for the siege. As they do, British cannons fire like crazy. This is largely ineffective, but nonetheless devastating when a target is found. A Continental captain of the Pennsylvania line, James Duncan, laments in his journal that on the night of October 2nd, four men of our regiment were unfortunately killed by one cannonball. Close quote. James also recounts the very odd death of a militiaman who climbs on top of a recently built parapet and brandishing his spade at every ball that was fired, yells, damn my soul if I dodge for the buggers. Several cannonballs miss him. But then, James continues, unfortunately, a ball came and put an end to his capers. Whether this was simple foolishness or PTSD or some other form of mental distress, we'll never know. By October 5, the Allies preparations are complete, meaning that they'll now do more or less what we saw Sir Henry Clinton's redcoats do in episode 11 to take Charleston, South Carolina. First, they'll dig a long trench running parallel to the fort. Second, they'll reinforce that position. Third, they'll dig shorter trenches from this parallel toward the enemy. And fourth, they'll dig a second parallel. The Allies won't need a third parallel here though, and that's thanks to the Brits giving up their outer defenses. That same dark and rainy night, a team of sappers and miners venture out, following the course advised by French engineers. They're supposed to lay strips of pine wood to mark where they'll later dig. But for the moment, they're waiting on the engineers to return. Some time passes as these men are left standing unarmed and painfully close to the British position, trusting that the rain and dark will obscure them in this terrifying moment, a man approaches. He speaks kindly, reminding them that if caught, they should not admit to being sappers and miners, since the laws of war entitle them to no quarter. He then leaves, but returns shortly thereafter with the French engineers. And it's in this moment, as the Frenchman call the tall stranger, your excellency, that Joseph Plumb Martin realizes that the stranger venturing out into this dangerous area is George Washington. The next night, October 6th, the Sappers and miners follow their pine path as they tear into the Virginia earth. As they dig, they throw the dirt into branch woven baskets called gabions that run beside the trench, thereby building a protective parapet. At the same time, on the morning of October 7, the British wake up to find the French and Americans have dug a 2,000 foot long parallel with four batteries all in one night. It's a mere 600 yards from their fortifications at Yorktown. Furiously, the redcoats open fire, only to find it ineffective against the overnight American built defenses. But the real insult comes later in the morning as allied troops take their positions in the newly built trenches in fort fortifications. See, it's a military tradition that when a besieging army completes its first trench, the troops occupy it with pomp and fanfare. It also just so happens that today this honor has fallen upon Lt. Col. Alexander Hamilton and his Continentals. Well, as Alexander leads his men out, their drums pounding, their banners flying, the redcoats unsurprisingly fire their artillery. So how does Alex, so desperate after some four years on George Washington's staff for military glory, respond to Britannia's cannons? He orders his men to get out of the trenches, after which they parade ground arms and otherwise carry out all the ceremony of soldiery, all well within range of the British guns. Incredibly, the British do nothing. A Fact that Captain James Duncan, who numbers among those troops, chalks up to sheer shock. I suppose their astonishment at our conduct must have prevented them a macho display of stones. But had the British fired, I can't help but think a field court martial would have come Alex's way. James was none too pleased to quote the captain once more, although I esteem him, Colonel Hamilton, one of the first officers in the American army, must beg leave in this instance to think he wantonly exposed the lives of his men. Come October 9th, the Franco American forces have trenched and fortified enough to conduct their own bombardment. George Washington ceremoniously fires the first Franco American cannon at Yorktown. The Allies now make it rain on Lord Cornwallis. According to Colonel Richard Butler, the shot and shells flew in incessantly through the night, dismounted the guns of the enemy, and destroyed many of their enragers. One cannonball rips through a dinner party, killing the British commissary general right in front of his wife, Lord Cornwallis and other officers. By this point, things are getting desperate in Yorktown. Unable to feed his army's animals and not wanting to release them into American and French hands, Lord Cornwallis has ordered the slaughter of hundreds of horses. They're dumped in the York river, their carcasses moving back and forth with the tide. Most heartbreaking is his lordship's treatment of the 4,500 black Americans that have helped him. After promising freedom and protection from enslavement in exchange for their work, his lordship now provides little food or shelter. Black Americans are, in fact, the majority of Yorktown's growing dismembered dead. And if they catch a deadly illness like smallpox, they're pushed out into the American lines as a form of biological warfare, where death or a return to slavery awaits. And as this all happens, his lordship continues to hope for reinforcements. On October 10, the French use heated cannonballs known as hot shot to take down the British frigate Charon, whose cannons have been quite a pest. The wooden vessel erupts in flames, which spread to other nearby anchored British ships. On October 11, Yorktown's defenses are sufficiently damaged for the allies to start the second parallel. This one is only 300 yards from Yorktown. Again, French and American sappers and miners carve away the sandy ground with their pickaxes. And, of course, George being George, he ventures into these trenches at night, risking his life to talk with his men. Within days, this second trench is nearing completion, and the way is open for an attack on two major British fortifications on the eastern side of Lord Cornwallis. Defenses redoubts 9 and 10, with 10 nearly sitting at the York River's edge. Now, each of these redoubts have a similar construction. On the outside are trenches and abatis. If abati is a new word to you, think sharpened objects meant to either impale invaders or hold them up while the soldiers in the redoubt can shoot them. These redoubts use sharpened logs and tree branches. If the invaders make it past the trenches and abatis, they will then have to surmount the breastwork of an inclined dirt wall reaching a few feet higher than the sharp obtrusive logs. The plan is an attack at night, with French forces commanded by Baron de villemesnil attacking Redoubt 9 and Americans commanded by Major General Lafayette attacking Redoubt 10. Lafayette selects Lieutenant Colonel Jean Joseph Sobedel de Guimas to lead the assault. But at the same time, the Marquis's dear friend Alexander Hamilton has other plans if he is ever to gain glory or see action. All these years removed from his artillery captain days, it's now Alex petitions George Washington and the Virginian decides to let his returned protege take his shot. And so, scrappy Alex will lead the attack on Redoubt 10. It's just after nightfall, October 14, 1781. French and American artillery have been blasting away at Redoubts 9 and 10 near the York river on the British left since dusk. And now Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton can hardly wait to strike. He has trusted officers with him, like his dear friends Lt. Col. John Lawrence and Maj. Nicholas Fish. He has brave, well reputed soldiers like the largely black 1st Rhode Island Regiment. And at this point, Alex orders his 400 or so men fixed bayonets to their unloaded and therefore unable to misfire guns. Finally, the moment comes as six shells burst at the same time, illuminating the night sky. The cry goes out. Up, up. And the men quickly climb out of their trench and sprint across the cannonaded pocketed quarter mile between them and our doubt tank. Approaching Redoubt, the attacking Continentals unleash ferocious battle cries. They nearly catch up with the sappers stealthily working to compromise the abati for them. At the front of these attacking soldiers is their leader, Alexander Hamilton. The slender, agile colonel opens the fray by charging forward, planting one foot on a kneeling soldier, then launching himself into the air like some sort of parkour master to land on top of the redoubt's breastwork. Now that's how you scale a parapet. He calls out the password Rochambeau, which the Americans love because it sounds like its intended order. Rush on, boys, and rush on they do the fortifications. Roughly 70 defending Redcoats and Hessians do their best to hold against the swarming Americans, but are soon on their back foot. On the American left, the detachment under John Lawrence makes a prisoner of the redoubt's commander, likely Major Patrick Campbell. On the American right with Alex, Colonel Dumas takes a ball to the foot, while Captain Stephen Onley suffers two bayonet wounds. Another 23Americans are wounded, while nine are killed. But none of these casualties are in vain. Within 10 minutes, the redoubt is soon captured, meaning that Alexander, Alexander Hamilton has achieved his boyhood dream of becoming a war hero. And while the French find stiffer resistance at Redoubt 9, they too win the night. With control over Redoubts 9 and 10, the allies now finish the second parallel, which all but ensures Lord Cornwallis capture. Not that he doesn't make some last ditch efforts. The next night, a British raiding party spikes some allied cannons, but it's ineffective. The night after that, His Lordship attempts to flee with what portion of his force he can by crossing the York river and joining Banister Tarleton at Gloucester Point. While British express boats have managed to move letters between Lord Cornwallis and his commander, Sir Henry Clinton, all the way up in New York throughout the siege, the night's hard winds and heavy rain make this effort fail. As Tarleton will later write, thus expired the last hope of the British army. The next day, at 10:00am, October 17, four years exactly since General Gentleman Johnny Burgoyne surrendered at Saratoga, a British officer atop a Yorktown parapet waves a white handkerchief. The allied bombardment breaks. A letter from His Lordship is delivered to George Washington. It reads in I propose a cessation of hostilities for 24 hours to settle terms for surrender of the posts of York and Gloucester. As for the terms, His Lordship gets to keep a sloop of war, the Bonetta, which sends word to Sir Henry Clinton of the surrender and allows his Loyalists to elude severe treatment. Most of his officers are forced free to depart on parole. Otherwise his lordship's 7,000 men become prisoners of war. The British negotiators try to push for full military honors, but George Washington won't have it. Not after American generosity at Saratoga was met with British cruelty when Ben Lincoln had to surrender at Charleston last year. No, George will allow Lord Cornwallis the same terms Sir Henry Clinton imposed on Ben. And having no alternative, his lordship accepts. 48 hours after that white handkerchief appeared, the British officially surrender. It's 2pm October 19, 1780. 1. A drum sounds as the exhausted British army march south out of Yorktown. Which tuned the drummers are sounding? I can't say, though some will later claim it's a piece entitled the world turned upside down. British General Charles O'Hara leads the way. Yes, General O'Hara, not Lord Cornwallis, who laments that he's suddenly become quite ill, likely with a severe case of embarrassment. Anyhow, his men march slow and somber, their flags cased, their fire arms shouldered. As the British advance, they pass between the allied forces. On the left side are the French and their splendid regal uniforms. On the right side of the road stand the Americans, many of whom lack uniforms or even shoes, a jarring distinction. Yet the Americans stand tall and proud. The British troops glower, consciously turning their gaze away from. From the Americans, from the colonials they so despise. Lafayette won't stand for such disrespect to his adoptive second country. On his order, his military band begins loudly playing the very tune the British have long used to tease and taunt the Americans. Yankee doodle. Ooh. It hits differently now. And the overpowering music pulls the Brits eyes toward the Americans, whether they like it or not. Now, facing generals George Washington and Rochambeau, General O'Hara offers up Lord Cornwallis sword to Rochambeau. That is, the Frenchman points him to George. That's right. As painful as it is for O'Hara, he can't get out of surrendering to this colonial, to this American, undoubtedly thinking it can't get worse. O'Hara must be mortified as George points to yet another general Benjamin Lincoln. Yes, if lord Cornwallis is too good to surrender his sword to George and is going to use a deputy, then his excellency will use a deputy as well. And of course, the irony and justice of making the British surrender to Ben, whom the redcoats so unnecessarily embarrassed during his surrender at Charleston, is not lost on anyone. Ben then oversees the British as they ground their arms, that is, relinquish their weapons. A New Jersey officer says the British officers behaved like boys who'd been whipped at school. Some bit their lips, some pouted, others cried. With the exception of the Germans, the surrendering soldiers are no better. But now the ceremony is over. The captured British army returns to Yorktown as prisoners of war. The next day, lord Cornwallis writes to sir Henry Clinton. I have the mortification to inform your excellency that I have been forced to give up the posts of York and Gloucester and to surrender the troops under my command by capitulation on the 19th instant as prisoners of war to the combined forces of America and France. As word spreads, Congress celebrates while British Prime Minister Lord north exclaims, oh, God, it is all over. Well, it is all over and it isn't. Yorktown's definitely the last major engagement, but the fighting will drag on for quite a while yet. And what will come of the peace talks? There are territorial boundaries to establish, debts to discuss, even fishing rights. And how well will John Adams work with Ben Franklin, whom he doesn't really trust? And what about all the back pay due to the Continental Army? Even the officers are growing angry. How will the young confederation's republican values survive a threat from its own military? No, the fighting isn't over. It's simply moving from the battlefield to the negotiation table. But that is a story for next time. History that Doesn't Suck is created and hosted by me, Greg Jackson Episode researched and written by Greg Jackson Production by Eric Sound design by Molly Bach Theme music composed by Greg Jackson Arrangement and additional composition by Lindsey Graham of AirShip. For a bibliography of all primary and secondary sources consulted in writing this episode, visit htbspodcast.com HTBS is supported by fans at HTBS Podcast My gratitude to you kind souls providing funding to help us keep going. 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