Johann Jacob Stambach Sr. (1761 - 1837)

http://www.wikitree.com/wiki/Stambaugh-29

Brother of Jacob Stambaugh:

STAMBACH, DANIEL DAR #:A108345 Service: PENNSYLVANIA Rank: PRIVATE Birth: 3-12-1748 PENNSYLVANIA Death: Before 4-15-1784 LYNN NORTHAMPTON CO PENNSYLVANIA Service Description: 1) CAPT MATHIAS PROBST,MAJ FREDERICH SAGLER 2) COL HENRY GEIGER, NORTHAMPTON CO MILITIA

THE PENNSYLVANIA LINE MUTINY

During the winter of 1780–1781, the Continental Army was dispersed into smaller components to ease the strain of supply. The Pennsylvania Line, comprising about 2,400 men, was encamped at Jockey Hollow, New Jersey, near Morristown. Conditions for the army were deplorable, as reported in letters by both General George Washington, commander of the entire Continental Army, and General Anthony Wayne, commander of the Pennsylvania Line. In previous years, both Washington and Wayne had cited corruption and a lack of concern on the part of state governments and the Continental Congress in fostering the poor conditions.

Pennsylvania troops had particular cause for discontent, as Pennsylvania was one of the stingiest states in paying its soldiers — many of the Pennsylvania Line had served for three years in exchange for only their initial $20 bounty. Other states' troops were receiving enlistment bounties valued in hundreds of dollars (New Jersey recruits received a $1,000 bounty), and even new Pennsylvania recruits received large bounties while serving soldiers neither received regular pay nor reenlistment money.

By January 1, 1781, the soldiers' dissatisfaction reached a boiling point. Many "three year men" reckoned that their enlistment terms, "for three years or the duration of the war", had ended with the coming of the new year. However, desperate to maintain the army's manpower, the Line's officers reckoned the enlistment terms to mean that soldiers were bound to serve for the duration of the war if it lasted more than three years. The Pennsylvania government would later admit that the widely accepted reckoning used by the soldiers was the correct one.

On January 1, 1781, the Pennsylvania Line held a raucous New Year's Day celebration. That evening, soldiers from several regiments armed themselves and prepared to depart the camp without permission. Officers led the remaining orderly regiments to quell the uprising, but after a few warning shots from the mutineers, the rest of the regiments fell into line with them. Captain Adam Bitting, commander of Company D, 4th Pennsylvania Regiment, was fatally shot by a mutineer who was trying to kill a lieutenant colonel. Otherwise, the uprising was relatively bloodless.

General Wayne tried to convince the soldiers to return to order peacefully, but while the soldiers promised not to defect to the British, they would not be satisfied until Pennsylvania redressed their grievances. Wayne followed his troops and dispatched letters to Washington and the Pennsylvania government. The Line set up a temporary headquarters in the town of Princeton, New Jersey and selected a Board of Sergeants to speak for them, headed by Sergeant William Bouzar, who had previously served in the British Army.

On January 5, the Supreme Executive Council of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania learned of the mutiny and immediately dispatched Joseph Reed, the council's president, to resolve it. That same day, George Washington issued a circular letter to the Continental Congress and the governments of New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Connecticut, begging once again for material aid for the army.

Reed spent the night of January 6 in Trenton where he met with delegates from the Continental Congress. Knowing the mutineers would have public sympathy on their side (including the Pennsylvania militia), the government had no choice but to negotiate. On January 7, Reed arrived in Princeton to meet the Board of Sergeants. Although General Anthony Wayne initially feared his men might not welcome Reed, on the contrary, Wayne and Reed were forced to dissuade the soldiers from honoring him with a cannon salute, which might have alarmed the locals.

Also on January 7, an emissary from General Sir Henry Clinton, British commander in New York City, arrived with a guide he had acquired in New Jersey. The agent brought a letter from Clinton offering the Pennsylvanians their back pay from British coffers if they gave up the rebel cause. Clinton had misjudged the nature of the Pennsylvanians' mutiny — the sentries seized both the agent and his guide. Although the mutineers refused to turn Clinton's emissaries over immediately to Wayne and Reed, they showed good faith by informing them of the British offer and their refusal to accept it.

Negotiations went quickly, as the soldiers distilled their grievances to one issue: that men enlisted in 1776 and 1777 for $20 bounty be discharged and then given the opportunity to reenlist for a new bounty if they wished. Reed heard testimony to the effect that officers had coerced soldiers to stay in the army or reenlist with unfavorable terms, even employing corporal punishment to that end. He found the testimony compelling and agreed to their terms, even allowing that the many soldiers whose enlistment papers were unavailable could simply swear an oath that they were "twenty dollar men" and be discharged.

Reed made arrangements in Trenton, where the Pennsylvanians marched to begin the discharge process on January 12. Approximately 1,250 infantrymen and 67 artillerymen were discharged. When the proceedings ended on January 29, only 1,150 out of 2,400 men remained in the Pennsylvania Line. However, many discharged men later reenlisted and the remaining regiments accepted their old officers.[2]

In the aftermath of the mutiny, the Pennsylvania Line underwent a reorganization. The 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, and 11th Pennsylvania Regiments were disbanded and their remaining soldiers reassigned to the senior units. The 1st Pennsylvania Regiment reorganized at Philadelphia, Pennsylvania under Colonel Daniel Brodhead IV. The 2nd also regrouped at Philadelphia under Colonel Walter Stewart. The 3rd was posted to Reading with Colonel Thomas Craig in command; the 4th under Colonel William Butler went to Carlisle; the 5th under Colonel Richard Butler went to York; and the 6th under Colonel Richard Humpton went to Lancaster. The rank and file, though not the sergeants and musicians, were all furloughed until 15 March. On that date the regiments reassembled at their respective towns. In May, Wayne led the 2nd, 5th, and 6th Pennsylvania south to join operations against the British in Virginia.

The Hardships at Morristown: A Soldier from Connecticut Describes His Conversation with Colonel Stewart of the Pennsylvania Line

From Narrative of Some of the Adventures, Dangers and Sufferings of a Revolutionary Soldier

"We left Westfield about the twenty-fifth of May and went to Basking Ridge. We did not reoccupy the huts which we built, but some others that the troops had left, upon what account I have forgotten. Here the monster Hunger still attended us. He was not to be shaken off by any efforts we could use, for here was the old story of starving, as rife as ever. We got a little musty bread and a little beef, about every other day, but this lasted only a short time and then we got nothing at all. The men were now exasperated beyond endurance; they could not stand it any longer. They saw no other alternative but to starve to death, or break up the army, give all up and go home. This was a hard matter for the soldiers to think upon. They were truly patriotic, they loved their country, and they had already suffered everything short of death in its cause; and now, after such extreme hardships to give up all was too much, but to starve to death was too much also. What was to be done? Here was the army starved and naked, and there their country sitting still and expecting the army to do notable things while fainting from sheer starvation. All things considered, the army was not to be blamed. Reader, suffer what we did and you will say so, too. We had borne as long as human nature could endure, and to bear longer we considered folly. Accordingly, one pleasant day, the men spent the most of their time upon the parade, growling like soreheaded dogs. At evening roll call they began to show their dissatisfaction by snapping at the officers and acting contrary to their orders. After their dismissal from the parade, the officers went, as usual, to their quarters, except the adjutant, who happened to remain, giving details for next day’s duty to the orderly sergeants, or some other business, when the men, none of whom had left the parade began to make him sensible that they had something in train. He said something that did not altogether accord with the soldiers’ ideas of propriety, one of the men retorted; the adjutant called him a mutinous rascal, or some such epithet, and then left the parade. This man, then stamping the butt of his musket upon the ground, as much as to say, I am in a passion, called out, “Who will parade with me?” The whole regiment immediately fell in and formed. We had made no plans for our future operations, but while we were consulting how to proceed, the Fourth Regiment, which lay on our left, formed, and came and paraded with us. We now concluded to go in a body to the other two regiments [the Third and Sixth] that belonged to our brigade and induce them to join with us. These regiments lay forty or fifty rods in front of us, with a brook and bushes between. We did not wish to have anyone in particular to command, lest he might be singled out for a court-martial to exercise its demency upon. We therefore gave directions to the drummers to give certain signals on the drums; at the first signal we shouldered our arms, at the second we faced, at the third we began our march to join with the other two regiments, and went off with music playing. By this time our officers had obtained knowledge of our military maneuvering and some of them had run across the brook, by a nearer way than we had taken, it being now quite dark, and informed the officers of those regiments of our approach and supposed intentions. The officers ordered their men to parade as quick as possible without arms. When that was done, they stationed a camp guard, that happened to be near at hand, between the men and their huts, which prevented them from entering and taking their arms, which they were very anxious to do. Colonel Meigs of the Sixth Regiment, exerted himself to prevent his men from obtaining their arms until he received a severe wound in his side by a bayonet in the scuffle, which cooled his courage at the time….. When we found the officers had been too crafty for us we returned with grumbling instead of music, the officers following in the rear growling in concert. One of the men in the rear calling out, “Halt in front,” the officers seized upon him like wolves on a sheep and dragged him out of the ranks, intending to make an example of him for being a “mutinous rascal,” but the bayonets of the men pointing at their breasts as thick as hatchel teeth, compelled them quickly to relinquish their hold of him. We marched back to our own parade and then formed again. The officers now began to coax us to disperse to our quarters, but that had no more effect upon us than their threats. One of them slipped away into the bushes, and after a short time returned, counterfeiting to have come directly from headquarters. Said he, “There is good news for you, boys, there has just arrived a large drove of cattle for the army.” But this piece of finesse would not avail. All the answer he received for his labor was, “Go and butcher them,” or some such slight expression. The lieutenant colonel of the Fourth Regiment [John Sumner] now came on to the parade. He could persuade his men, he said, to go peaceably to their quarters. After a good deal of palaver, he ordered them to shoulder their arms, but the men taking no notice of him or his order, he fell into a violent passion, threatening them with the bitterest punishment if they did not immediately obey his orders. After spending a whole quiver of the arrows of his rhetoric, he … gave up the contest as hopeless and left us and walked off to his quarters, chewing the cud of resentment all the way, and how much longer I neither knew nor cared. The rest of the officers, after they found that they were likely to meet with no better success than the colonel, walked off likewise to their huts. While we were under arms, the Pennsylvania troops, who lay not far from us, were ordered under arms and marched off their parades upon, as they were told, a secret expedition. They had surrounded us, unknown to either us or themselves (except the officers). At length, getting an item of what was going forward, they inquired of some of the stragglers what was going on among the Yankees. Being informed that they had mutinied on account of the scarcity of provisions, “Let us join them,” said they. “Let us join the Yankees; they are good fellows, and have no notion of lying here like fools and starving.” Their officers needed no further hinting. The troops were quickly ordered back to their quarters, from fear that they would join in the same song with the Yankees. We knew nothing of all this for some time afterwards. After our officers had left us to our own option, we dispersed to our huts and laid by our arms of our own accord, but the worm of hunger gnawing so keen kept us from being entirely quiet. We therefore still kept upon the parade in groups, venting our spleen at our country and government, then at our officers, and then at ourselves for our imbecility in staying there and starving in detail for an ungrateful people who did not care what became of us, so they could enjoy themselves while we were keeping a cruel enemy from them. While we were thus venting our gall against we know not who, Colonel Stewart of the Pennsylvania Line, with two or three other officers of that Line, came to us and questioned us respecting our unsoldierlike conduct (as he termed it). We told him he needed not to be informed of the cause of our present conduct, but that we had borne till we considered further forbearance pusillanimity; that the times, instead of mending, were growing worse; and finally, that we were determined not to bear or forbear much longer. We were unwilling to desert the cause of our country, when in distress; that we knew her cause involved our own, but what signified our perishing in the act of saving her, when that very act would inevitably destroy us, and she must finally perish with us. “Why do you not go to your officers,” said he, “and complain in a regular manner?” We told him we had repeatedly complained to them, but they would not hear us. “Your officers,” said he, “are gentlemen, they will attend to you. I know them; they cannot refuse to hear you. But,” said he, “your officers suffer as much as you do. We all suffer. The officers have no money to purchase supplies with any more that the private man have, and if there is nothing in the public store we must fare as hard as you. I have no other resources than you to depend on. I had not a sixpence to purchase a partridge that was offered me the other day. Besides,” said he, “you know not how much you injure you own characters by such conduct. You Connecticut troops have won immortal honor to yourselves the winter past, by your perseverance, patience, and bravery, and now you are shaking it off at your heels. But I will go and see your officers, and talk with them myself. He went, but what the result was, I never knew… Our stir did us some good in the end, for we had provisions directly after, so we had no great cause for complaint for some time."

From Private Yankee Doodle p. 182-187. Joseph Plumb Martin, A Narrative of Some of the Adventures, Dangers, and Sufferings of a Revolutionary Soldier; with Anecdotes of Incidents that Occurred within his Own Observation (Hallowell (Maine) Printed by Glazier, Masters, and Co., 1830) An original printing of the book is in the collection of Morristown National Historical Park (see http://www.cr.nps.gov/museum/exhibits/revwar/image_gal/morrimg/bookmartin.html http://www.njn.net/television/specials/morristown/chronology/mutiny.pdf

Jockey Hollow: the "Hard" Winter of 1779—80

INTERMISSION: WAR IN DEADLOCK. Nearly two and a half years passed by before the main body of the Continental Army again returned to Morristown. During that interval the British both captured and abandoned Philadelphia, Burgoyne's Army surrendered to the Americans at Saratoga, and France and Spain entered the conflict against Great Britain. Washington's soldiers had stood up under fire on numerous occasions, besides weathering the winter encampment periods at Valley Forge in 1777—78, and at Middlebrook in 1778—79. On the other hand, the financial affairs of the young United States had gone from bad to worse. Hoped-for benefits from the French Alliance had not yet materialized, and the 3-year enlistments in the Continental Army had only 4 or 5 months more to run before their expiration. Moreover, while the military scales somewhat balanced in the North, the enemy held Savannah, and there were rumors that Sir Henry Clinton, Howe's successor, would soon leave New York by sea to attack Charleston. With the final issue still in doubt, America approached what was destined to be the hardest winter of the Revolutionary War.

MORRISTOWN AGAIN BECOMES THE MILITARY CAPITAL. Such was the general condition of affairs when, on November 30, Washington informed Nathanael Greene, then Quartermaster General, that he had finally decided "upon the position back of Mr. Kembles," about 3 miles southwest of Morristown, for the next winter encampment of the Continental forces under his immediate command. As he later wrote to the President of Congress, this was the nearest place available "compatible with our security which could also supply water and wood for covering and fuel."

The site thus chosen lay in a somewhat mountainous section of Morris County known as Jockey Hollow, and included portions of the "plantation" owned by Peter Kemble, Esq., and the farms of Henry Wick and Joshua Guerin. Some of the American brigades being already collected at nearby posts, Greene at once sent word to their commanders of Washington's decision: "The ground I think will be pretty dry; I shall have the whole of it laid off this day; you will therefore order the troops to march immediately; or if you think it more convenient tomorrow morning. It will be well to send a small detachment from each Regiment to take possession of their ground. You will also order on your brigade quarter master to draw the tools for each brigade and to get a plan for hurting which they will find made our at my quarters."

Simultaneously with this instruction which was dated December 1, Washington himself arrived in Morristown, during a "very severe storm of hail & snow all day." He promptly established his headquarters at the Ford Mansion, presumably at the invitation of Mrs. Theodosia Ford, widow of Col. Jacob Ford, Jr., who was then living in the house with her four children. Morristown had again become the American military capital.

BUILDING THE "LOG-HOUSE CITY." Events now moved swiftly. Many of the American troops reached Morristown during the first week of December, and the rest arrived before the end of that month. Estimates vary as to their total effective strength, but it was probably not under 10,000 men, nor over 12,000, at that particular time. Eight infantry brigades—Hand's, New York, 1st and 2d Maryland, 1st and 2d Connecticut, and 1st and 2d Pennsylvania—took up compactly arranged positions in Jockey Hollow proper. Two additional brigades, also of infantry, were assigned to campgrounds nearby: Stark's Brigade on the east slope of Mount Kemble, and the New Jersey Brigade at "Eyre's Forge," on the Passaic River, somewhat less than a mile further southwest. Knox's Artillery Brigade took post about a mile west of Morristown, on the main road to Mendham, and there also the Artillery Park of the army was established. The Commander in Chief's Guard occupied ground directly opposite the Ford Mansion. All the positions noted are shown exactly on excellent maps of the period prepared by Robert Erskine, Washington's Geographer General, and by Capt. Bichet de Rochefontaine, a French engineer. A brigade of Virginia troops was included in original plans for the encampment, but it was ordered southward soon after arriving at Morristown, and played no major part in the story here related.

As they arrived in camp, the soldiers pitched their tents on the frozen ground. Then work was begun at once on building log huts for more secure shelter from the elements. This was a tremendous undertaking. There was oak, walnut, and chestnut timber at hand, but the winter had set in early with severe snowstorms and bitter cold. Dr. James Thacher, a surgeon in Stark's Brigade, testified that "notwithstanding large fires, we can scarcely keep from freezing." Maj. Ebenezer Huntington, of Webb's Regiment, wrote that "the men have suffer'd much without shoes and stockings, and working half leg deep in snow." In spite of these handicaps, however, nearly all the private soldiers had moved into their huts around Christmastime, though some of the officers' quarters, which were left till last, remained unfinished until mid-February. A young Connecticut schoolmaster who visited the camp near the end of December described it as a "Log-house city," where his own troops and those of other States dwelt among the hills "in tabernacles like Israel of old." About 600 acres of woodland were cut down in connection with the project.

Each brigade camped in the Jockey' Hollow neighborhood occupied a sloping, well-drained hillside area about 320 yards long and 100 yards in depth, including a parade ground 40 yards deep in front. Above the parade were the soldiers' huts, eight in a row and three or four rows deep for each regiment; beyond those the huts occupied by the captains and subalterns; and higher still the field officers' huts. Camp streets of varying widths separated the hut rows. This arrangement is clearly shown in a contemporary sketch of the Stark's Brigade Camp.

Logs notched together at the corners and chinked with clay formed the sides of the huts. Boards, slabs, or hand-split shingles were used to cover their simple gable roofs, the ridges of which ran parallel to the camp streets. All the soldiers' huts, designed to accommodate 12 men each, were ordered built strictly according to a uniform plan: about 14 feet wide and 15 or 16 feet long in floor dimensions, and around 6-1/2 feet high at the eaves with wooden bunks, a fireplace and chimney at one end, and a door in the front side. Apparently, windows were not cut in these huts until spring. The officers' cabins were generally larger in size, and individual variation was permitted in their design and construction. Usually accommodating only two to four officers, they had two fireplaces and chimneys each, and frequently two or more doors and windows. Besides these two main types of huts, there were some others built for hospital, orderly room, and guardhouse purposes. The completed camp seems to have contained between 1,000 and 1,200 log buildings of all types combined.

TERRIBLE SEVERITY OF THE WINTER. Weather conditions when the army arrived at Morristown were but a foretaste of what was yet to come, and long before all the huts were up, the elements attacked Washington's camp with terrible severity. As things turned out, 1779—80 proved to be the most bitter and prolonged winter, not only of the Revolutionary War, but of the whole eighteenth century.

One observer recorded 4 snows in November, 7 in December, 6 in January, 4 in February, 6 in March, and 1 in April—28 falls altogether, some of which lasted nearly all day and night. The great storm of January 2—4 was among the most memorable on record, with high winds which no man could endure many minutes without danger to his life. "Several marquees were torn asunder and blown down over the officers' heads in the night," wrote Dr. Thacher, "and some of the soldiers were actually covered while in their tents, and buried like sheep under the snow." When this blizzard finally subsided, the snow lay full 4 feet deep on a level, drifted in places to 6 feet, filling up the roads, covering the tops of fences, and making it practically impossible to travel anywhere with heavy loads.

What made things still worse was the intense, penetrating cold. General Greene noted that for 6 or 8 days early in January "there has been no living abroad." Only on 1 day of that month, as far south as Philadelphia, did the mercury go above the freezing point. All the rivers froze solid, including both the Hudson and the Delaware, so that troops and even large cannon could pass over them. Ice in the Passaic River formed 3 feet thick, and, as late as February 26, the Hudson above New York was "full of fixed ice on the banks, and floating ice in the channel." The Delaware remained wholly impassable to navigation for 3 months. "The oldest people now living in this country," wrote Washington on March 18, "do not remember so hard a Winter as the one we are now emerging from."

LACK OF ADEQUATE CLOTHING. Not even good soldiers warmly clothed could be expected to endure this ordeal by weather without some complaint. How much more agonizing, then, was such a winter for Washington's men in Jockey Hollow, who were again poorly clad! A regimental clothier in the Pennsylvania Line referred to some of the troops being "naked as Lazarus." By the time their huts were completed, said an officer in Stark's Brigade, not more than 50 men of his regiment could be returned fit for duty, and there was "many a good Lad with nothing to cover him from his hips to his toes save his Blanket." As late as March, when "an immense body of snow" still remained on the ground, Dr. Thacher wrote that the soldiers were "in a wretched condition for the want of clothes, blankets and shoes."

SHORTAGE OF PROVISIONS AND FORAGE. Still more critical was the lack of food for the men, and forage for the horses and oxen on which every kind of winter transportation depended. December 1779 found the troops subsisting on "miserable fresh beef, without bread, salt, or vegetables." When the big snows of midwinter blocked the roads, making it totally impossible for supplies to get through, the army's suffering for lack of provisions alone became almost more than human flesh and blood could bear. Early in January 1780, said the Commander in Chief, his men sometimes went "5 or Six days together without bread, at other times as many days without meat, and once or twice two or three days without either. . . . at one time the Soldiers eat every kind of horse food but Hay."

Thanks to the magistrates and civilian population of New Jersey, an appeal from Washington in this urgent crisis brought cheerful, generous. relief. This alone saved the army from starvation, disbandment, or such desperate, wholesale plundering as must have eventually ruined all patriot morale. By the end of February, however, the food situation was once more acute. Wrote General Greene: "Our provisions are in a manner gone; we have not a ton of hay at command, not magazines to draw from." Periodic food shortages continued to plague the troops during the next few months. As late as May 9, there was only a 3-days' supply of meat on hand, and it was estimated that the flour, if made into bread, could not last more than 15 or 16 days. Officers and men alike literally lived from hand to mouth all through the 1779—80 encampment period.

MONEY TROUBLES AND THEIR CONSEQUENCES. The cause of many difficulties faced by Washington that winter appears to have been the near chaotic state of American finances. Currency issued by Congress tumbled headlong in value, until in April—June 1780 it took $60 worth of "Continental" paper to equal $1 in coin. "Money is extreme scarce" wrote General Greene on February 29, "and worth little when we get it. We have been so poor in camp for a fortnight that we could not forward the public dispatches for want of cash to support the expresses." Civilians who had provisions and other necessaries to sell would no longer "trust" as they had done before; and without funds, teams could not be found to bring in supplies from distant magazines. Reenlistment of veteran troops and recruitment of new levies became doubly difficult. Even the depreciated money wages of the army were not punctually paid, being frequently 5 or 6 months in arrears. Dr. Thacher wailed at length about "the trash which is tendered to requite us for our sacrifices, for our sufferings and privations, while in the service of our country." No wonder that desertions soon increased alarmingly, and that many officers, no longer able to support families at home, resigned their commissions in disgust! At the end of May an abortive mutiny of two Connecticut regiments in Jockey Hollow, though quickly suppressed, foreshadowed the far more serious outbursts fated to occur within a year.

Morristown, New Jersey, where over a thousand acres of Revolutionary War sites have been preserved since 1933, is home to America's first national historic park. Known as the military capital of the Revolution, Morristown has park lands stretching from Harding to Mendham and Morris Townships. Morris park lands are recognized for their beautifully preserved wooden cabins, the Ford Mansion, Fort Nonsense, the New Jersey Brigade Encampment, and the green hills of Jockey Hollow. Several interpretive centers and exhibits display artifacts and information on the time period.

Jockey Hollow, an area containing legendary burial grounds, war sites, and Revolutionary-era homes, was chosen by George Washington as a location for an encampment during the winter of 1779-1780. Washington had arrived at Morristown with ten to twelve thousand men in bitterly cold weather and severe conditions of wartime hardship. Traveling with little food, the men of Washington's troops were war weary.(2) Living on a variety of horse feed, the soldiers had marched in deep snow without shoes, using only simple cloth bandages to protect their hands and feet from frostbite.

Simple log huts were constructed for shelter and as the malnourished men settled in, thieving became an issue. Those who were caught stealing were punished with a hundred lashes. The encampment endured a winter more harsh than that of Valley Forge, where thousands died the same year. In December alone, seven blizzards covered the encampment, yet only a hundred soldiers perished. Men of the eight infantry brigades, hailing from New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Connecticut, New York and Rhode Island, passed time around campfires or drilling on the grounds of what is now the park.

One particular company of men is commemorated at Sugar Loaf Hill where a plaque states, the two thousand men of the Pennsylvania line served as the backbone of Washington's army. Washington's Pennsylvania troops had fought in almost every battle of the war and were revered as the company's most experienced men. However, during a second encampment at Jockey Hollow, the Pennsylvanians decided to march to Philadelphia to demand overdue wages from Congress.

“We reached this wilderness, about three miles from Morristown where we are building log huts for winter quarters. The snow on the ground is about two feet deep, and the weather extremely cold.” – Dr James Thacher, Continental Army Surgeon, 1779.

The Second Pennsylvania Regiment had its origins in a unit established October 12, 1775, and designated "The First Pennsylvania Battalion." This was the second unit raised by the state (the first was "The Pennsylvania Rifle Battalion") and was enrolled for a term of one year. The original commander, Col. John Bull, got into trouble selling furloughs to the men "and other degrading conduct" and was compelled by the other officers to resign. He was replaced by Col. John Phillip DeHaas of Lebanon.

In January, 1776, the eight companies of the newly-formed battalion began leaving the state to participate in Benedict Arnold's ill-fated attempt to capture Quebec. With little winter clothing and half their muskets unserviceable, the men struggled by foot, sloop, and bateaux into Canada, their strength sharply reduced by sickness. By March 30, four of the companies had arrived at the American lines in front of Quebec, but before the remainder could come up the attack on the city was abandoned and the battalion started the slow retreat back to New York. By July 10 it was encamped with the American Army at Ft. Ticonderoga. In October it participated in Anthony Wayne's defeat of the British at Valcour Island, but otherwise had an uneventful tour of garrison duty. It remained at Ticonderoga voluntarily until November 13 (three weeks beyond its term of service) to await the arrival of replacement troops. By December 8 a remnant of the First Battalion was at New Germantown, NJ, but the bulk of the men had been mustered out of service.

During this time, Congress realized a more substantial national army with enlistments longer than 12 months would be needed to fight the war successfully. Pennsylvania was assigned to provide 12 of these "Continental" regiments and decided to use the battalions created in 1775 as the foundation for the state's quota. Thus, the Pennsylvania Rifle Battalion, being the first unit formed by the state, became the First Pennsylvania Regiment, The First Pennsylvania Battalion became the nucleus of the Second Pennsylvania Regiment and so on.

Despite the hardships they had endured on Arnold's forlorn expedition to Canada, about 340 of the nearly 500 men who had been with the First Battalion at Ticonderoga did join the Second Pennsylvania Regiment in time enough for Col. DeHaas and a portion of the unit to join Washington's army at Trenton and fight in the battle of Princeton on January 3, 1777, in a brigade of Pennsylvanians commanded by Brig. Gen. Thomas Mifflin.

The regiment spent the winter months at Morristown, NJ, where it built up strength and was placed in Gen. Anthony Wayne's Division. Col. DeHaas was promoted to a brigadier general in February and was replaced by Col. James Irvine, who resigned in June. Col. Henry Bicker was appointed in his place but did not actually join the regiment until the following October. In the meantime, the regiment was commanded by the senior officer present for duty, Major William Williams.

Williams led the unit in patrol actions in New Jersey during the spring and summer, including an engagement at Bound Brook on April 11 or 12 and a skirmish at Amboy on April 25 in which one officer was killed. At the Battle of Brandywine on Sept. 11, 1777, the regiment was part of the force guarding Chadds Ford until the British diversionary force stormed across the creek and compelled Wayne's Division to withdraw. It sustained casualties at Paoli on Sept. 21, including one officer killed, and at the Battle of Germantown it was the left flank of the American troops attacking the British center that was mistakenly fired on by other American troops. By the end of October, the unit had suffered substantially from all the fighting, including the loss of Major Williams who was captured at Germantown. Capt. Joseph Howell became acting regimental commander and the Second Pennsylvania Regiment numbered only 13 other officers and 74 enlistedmen present for duty at the end of the month.

The few present were able to man a section of the army's first line of defense at Whitemarsh in early December, before moving with the rest of Washington's forces into the legendary winter encampment at Valley Forge. Here the regiment shared the sufferings of the Continental Line, trained in Von Steuben's new manual of arms and brought itself up to strength.

With France entering the conflict on the side of the new United States in May, the British abandoned Philadelphia and moved across New Jersey to the more easily defended stronghold of New York City. On June 19, 1778, the Continental Army left Valley Forge in pursuit and engaged the British in the Battle of Monmouth on an extremely hot June 28. Here the Second Pennsylvania served in a provisional brigade commanded by Lt. Col. Aaron Burr and made a charge from the American left flank into a British force trying to assault the American center. It halted the British attack but was itself compelled to retire under subsequent artillery fire. The regiment lost two men wounded in this action.

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Dec 1778 - Jun 1779 Middlebrook Encampment Apr - Oct 1779 New Jersey Campaign Dec 1779 - Jun 1780 Morristown Encampment Apr - Oct 1780 New Jersey Summer Campaign 18 May 1780 Paramus, NJ 7 Jun 1780 Connecticut Farms, NJ 21 Jul 1780 Blockhouse - Bergen Heights

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On July 1, 1778, the regiment absorbed the remainder of the 13th Pennsylvania Regiment, most of its men's enlistments having expired. The colonel of the 13th, 23-year-old Walter Stewart, became the Second's new commander. The young officer, nicknamed "The Irish Beauty" by the ladies of Philadelphia, was a close friend of Anthony Wayne's and well acquainted with Washington as well. He was an able leader with a reputation of taking care of the welfare of his men. Diarist Joseph Plumb Martin described him as "an excellent officer, much beloved and respected by the troops of the Line he belonged to."

Under Stewart the regiment operated along the New York-New Jersey border and moved to Middlebrook, NJ, in early December for the winter of 1778-79. There is no particular record that the unit was involved in any fighting that summer, but in October, 1779, it had 452 officers and men with Wayne at West Point. From there it moved to Morristown, NJ, for the encampment in Jockey Hollow where it endured the most brutal winter of the 18th Century.

When spring came, the regiment was again actively engaged in patrols and skirmishes with British forays from New York. On May 18 the unit lost a junior officer killed in a fight at Paramus. On June 7 it fought at Connecticut Farms and on June 21 was at "the blockhouse" at Bergen Hts., where it joined the First Pennsylvania Regiment in a gallant but futile headlong charge on a sturdy Loyalist fortification despite the attempts of the officers to restrain the men. Two lieutenants were mortally wounded here and a number of men killed.

On Sept. 21 the regiment was in Hartford, CT, with Wayne to greet French General Rochambeau. On Sept. 25 it rushed from Tappan, NY, to West Point to reinforce the garrison there after Benedict Arnold's treachery was discovered.

In December the Second returned to Morristown for another winter. There, on Jan. 1, 1781, the mutiny of the Pennsylvania troops took place. The men of the regiment refused at first to join the mutineers, but were finally forced to when the other troops threatened them at bayonet point and with artillery.

The resulting restructuring of the Pennsylvania Line perpetuated a Second Regiment among the state's six reorganized units, with Walter Stewart still in command. However, the men who remained in service were all redistributed among all these units and this establishment was mostly on paper. Essentially, the old Second Pennsylvania ceased to exist before the final campaign in Virginia and South Carolina, although former members of the regiment were battle casualties at Green Springs on July 6 and Yorktown in October.

The Perry Review #27 - Volume 27 2006

Page 35 John Stambaugh House $5.00

SEE "History of Youngstown and the Mahoning Valley" Vol.2 by Joseph Green Butler (p.22).