Then there was Colonel John Laurens’s mission to South Carolina. The governor of South Carolina kept complaining about the lack of troops to defend Charleston. A major reason was that only three hundred militia, the smallest number in any state, answered the call to arms. Colonel Laurens, a fellow aide at the time—and an abolitionist—explained to the General that there was a simple way to remedy the troop shortage: South Carolina, which was the only state with more slaves than whites, should simply arm and train some slaves and, as an incentive to fight the British, pay them a bounty and offer them freedom after the war. I thought the scheme sounded a bit far-fetched, but Laurens was from an old South Carolina family, and his father was the president of the Continental Congress. Laurens was twenty-five years old and very idealistic, and he really believed he could convince the South Carolina legislature to go along. I remember he urged the General’s approval of his mission on abolitionist grounds, but he was also careful to strongly appeal to the General’s desire to use all means to win the war. “If this succeeds in South Carolina, we can try it in Georgia,” he told the General. “Besides, if we don’t do it, the British will, and their troop advantage will just increase.”
Well, that was enough for the General. While the General never explicitly approved the proposal, Laurens headed for South Carolina, which I know he would not have done without the General’s approval. The General had Alexander Hamilton, our fellow aide at the time and a close friend of Laurens, write a letter to the Congress urging support for the mission. Most of the letter Hamilton drafted sounded like the General at his most pragmatic: describing the shortage of American troops in the South to defend Charleston and harass the British and predicting that the British would arm the Negroes if we didn’t. But some of the reasons sounded more like Hamilton, a devout abolitionist: all human beings were capable of being good soldiers with good leadership and such a move may help those among us who were unfortunate and may open the door to broader emancipation.
Congress didn’t exactly approve, but it didn’t disapprove of Laurens’s mission either, providing that arming black regiments might proceed if the state of South Carolina agreed. The General had me write a letter, which he sent to Laurens, offering encouragement: “I know of nothing which can be opposed to them [the British] with such a prospect for success as the corps you have proposed should be levied in Carolina.” Laurens tried hard and brought the issue to a vote of the South Carolina legislature, but he couldn’t convince a majority. He had some support from the up country, but the areas controlled by the big rice-plantation owners just wouldn’t go along. A year later the South Carolina governor made an offer to the British general besieging Charleston: the governor would lead South Carolina in breaking away from the Confederation if the British spared Charleston. They didn’t, and Charleston still surrendered. It was the most ignominious defeat of the war, with fifty-five hundred prisoners of war falling without a fight into British hands.
Laurens wrote to the General that “prejudice, avarice, and pusillanimity” were the reasons for the defeat. The General wrote back to Laurens lamenting that “the spirit of freedom” had been superseded by “selfish passion.”
I believe the General was both displeased and angered that some South Carolina leaders were more concerned about preserving slavery than gaining independence. Still, at the time of the failure of Laurens’s mission, I did not know if the General was really more angered by the South Carolina legislature’s defense of slavery or the loss of potential troops for the war effort.
Given that the General owned a few hundred slaves and was known to have chased after slaves who fled his plantation, I was pretty sure his motivation was increasing our troop numbers, although with the General it was always hard to tell, and lately I have come to believe, for reasons I will tell you about later, that he may have been moved as much or more by idealism than pragmatism.
It was the same way with women in the army. Everyone knew there were women serving with and in the army. The General made it very clear he did not approve of camp followers; many of these women engaged in prostitution, but many were married to the soldiers. At first he tried to stop the practice, but the General, as I said, could be quite pragmatic, and one day he remarked, “Josiah, there may be some good in all this. Draft an order that when we are in camp, regiments should have the women wash and clean whatever clothes we have and prepare the food.”
Dealing with camp followers was one thing; finding women who disguised themselves as men in order to serve in combat was another. This happened more than you might believe. I still remember General Knox coming up to the General to inform him that a Deborah Sampson had been discovered. She had used a male alias, Robert Shurtliff, cut her hair short, and bound up her breasts. Her fellow soldiers thought it odd when she didn’t shave, but they figured the boy was just too young. Her secret would not have been discovered, except she fell ill at Yorktown, and a surgeon examined her.
“What do I do?” asked Knox, to which the General after a pause asked, “What kind of soldier has she been?” When told she had performed ably and been wounded twice, I knew the General was thinking, “I will have one less soldier.” Finally his sense of practicality and convention prevailed and he told Knox, “Well, I suppose we shall have to discharge her. Just make sure she gets an honorable discharge and a letter of commendation.”
“Yes, sir,” said a bemused General Knox before he trotted off.
Then there were those women like Molly Ludwig who found themselves openly thrust into battle. Molly Pitcher, as she was known, had been delivering pitchers of water when her husband, manning an artillery piece, was shot and killed. Molly took over the piece and kept shooting. The next day General Greene presented her to the General, who got carried away and appointed her a sergeant, but I believe this was an honorary title. Lady Washington was not amused, especially when she heard about Molly’s reputation for swearing. The General was always very mindful of Lady Washington. Soon after, Molly was eased out of the army, although with an honorable discharge and a letter of commendation I drafted.
People had the habit of seeing their own views reflected in the General’s views, which the General encouraged with enigmatic comments. After the General’s actions—or nonactions—on Negro and women troops, along with some ambiguous comments, I remember Abigail Adams congratulating the General on his support for abolition and women’s rights. “My good madam,” I heard the General reply, “you give me too much credit. I am only trying to win this war.” Mrs. Adams left the meeting both convinced the General shared her views and impressed with his modesty.
Then there were the Indians. The General talked about treaties, preserving lands for the Indians, and all of us living together, but he certainly had no compunction about settlers moving west onto Indian lands. He dreamed of settling the Ohio country and bought land there. When it came to the war, however, the General saw things more pragmatically.