The American Revolution and Anthony Hollinshead

 

Lecture by Todd Braisted, July 21, 2000,

at the

Hollingshead Family Reunion,

Thornhill, Ontario

 

 

In the time of the American Revolution, the war arrived around New York City in July, 1776.  Prior to that time, New Jersey had been taken over by rebel committees.  Loyalist Governor William Franklin had been arrested and thrown in jail in Connecticut.  Loyalists who were active had remained silent at home or they would have had to face persecution, fines, imprisonment, or worse. 

 

But in July of 1776 that started to change. The first of an army of twenty thousand men under the command of British General William Howe arrived in New York City.  Almost immediately Howe was joined by Loyalists from New York and New Jersey.  These men - young, active - came to assist the British in putting down the Revolution.  Everyone at this time on both sides thought the war would be over quickly.  The rebels under George Washington thought they would quickly defeat the British.  They had driven them out of Boston, and they had taken Ticonderoga in the north.  They had beaten back a British attack to take Charleston that June.  Things were optimistic on their end.

 

On the British side, there was a large army of trained British troops coming over.  There were also Hessian troops (Germans), a very well disciplined and trained army, to take the field.  They were no longer headquartered in Boston where they could do nothing.  They took the field with the expectation of being joined by thousands of Loyalists, and they were certain the rebellion would be crushed quickly.

 

Many of the Loyalists thought the same thing.  They joined the British to be soldiers.  These men enlisted in what were called Provincial Regiments, the Loyalist equivalent of the Continental Army on the rebel side.  Like the Regulars of the Continental Army, the Provincials were expected to serve wherever they were posted.   The Provincials were made up almost exclusively of colonists with a scattering of British officers and British sergeants to help discipline and train them. They were paid the same as British soldiers which for a private was the lofty sum of six pence a day, from which was deducted one and a half pence for rations.  Of course there was also a deduction for clothing.  But privates didn’t need much more than that anyway!  What did they do, but fight the war!

 

The Provincials were liable for service anywhere between Nova Scotia and West Florida.  They were fed the same as the British troops.

 

 A hardy Loyalist private’s daily meal ration would have been: 

a pound of salt beef or 12 oz. of salt pork a day,

a pound of bread,

some cheese,

some peas,

some oatmeal,

some butter,

of course, some rum,

and a beverage they enjoyed very much—spruce beer, a beer made from the extract of spruce.

In addition to being somewhat tasty, spruce beer was deemed beneficial to the men’s health. They enjoyed it even more, as it was provided by the King for free; it wasn’t deducted from their pay!

 

The Provincials were regularly uniformed.  In the beginning of the war, during the New York campaign in the winter of 1776-1777, these Provincials had no uniforms.  They literally served in the clothes they had brought from home – what they wore or carried with them.  The British came to New York City with no clothing whatsoever for the Loyalists. The first Loyalist troops, called the New York Companies, who served in the New York campaign were actually shot at by the British Light Infantry in the Battle of Long Island.  Several were killed because they looked just like the rebels they were fighting.  This changed in March and April of 1777 when uniforms – green coats - arrived.  When people think of Loyalists troops they might think they looked the same as British but early in the war they wore green. 

 

Let us meet at this time a man by the name of Anthony Hollinshead.  On March 21, 1777, Anthony Hollinshead officially became an officer in the British Army.  He was commissioned a Lieutenant in the Third Battalion of New Jersey Volunteers.  We know he was in New York City prior to that time as he is among those who took the Oath of Allegiance there between mid-January and mid-February of 1777.  He possibly served with the Battalion before he was commissioned as Lieutenant, as commission dates do not necessarily reflect when someone entered the service. 

 

The Third Battalion of New Jersey Volunteers was commanded by Edward Von Dongen, a young gentleman from Elizabethtown, Essex County.   The Third Battalion was made up primarily of men from Essex County, New Jersey, and would go on during the war to attain a fine record in combat.  The Third Battalion of New Jersey Volunteers would serve in the southern provinces of America.  They would be famous for a number of battles in the south.

 

However, that doesn’t involve Anthony Hollinshead.  Anthony Hollinshead had a very brief career in the New Jersey Volunteers.  In fact if you are familiar with the muster rolls of the Loyalist Regiments in the National Archives of Canada, you will not find Anthony Hollinshead there.  Muster rolls for the Third Battalion of New Jersey Volunteers do not appear until November of 1777.  By that time Anthony Hollinshead was long gone from the Regiment.  We are not sure why he left or exactly when he left.  He probably submitted his resignation.  There is no mention of him in the list of officers prepared by the Commander of the Regiment, General Cortland Skinner.  Hollinshead’s name appears only on an army list that was prepared for Provincial Regiments.  Exactly what he did is open to conjecture.  At that time the Battalion made a few raids into Bergen County.  He may have fought in those.

 

Why did he leave?  We don’t know.

 

What did he do immediately after?  We don’t know.

 

That was career number one for Anthony Hollinshead.

 

Luckily, later in the war, he did things that became quite memorable.  His exploits, or at least those of his corps in which he took part, became famous (even in Europe).

 

Once again we will not find his name among those on the rolls in the National Archives of Canada.

 

Hollinshead would join a corps known as the Loyal Refugee Volunteers.  Not a household word in America or Canada today!  Refugees were different from Provincials.  Refugees, as the British termed them, were Loyalists not enlisted in Provincial Corps.  They were not paid by the British.  They were not uniformed by the British.  They were not even fed by the British.

 

One reason somebody might join a Refugee corps was that these corps’ tended to be more active than Provincial regiments.  As well, these regiments were not liable for service throughout all America.  If you enlisted in a Corps in New York, you weren’t going to be sent off to Georgia all of a sudden one day, as Anthony’s old regiment was.  Instead you would stay in the area where you joined.  You would do active raids.  You might ask, “If the British did not pay them, if the British did not feed them, if the British did not clothe them, how did these people live?”  Interesting question!

 

This corps was the brainchild of two men: Abraham Cuyler, the former mayor of Albany, New York and Thomas Ward, who has come down through history as being a deserter from the Continental Army, either from Orange County, New York, or Bergen County, New Jersey.  Ward and Cuyler met through the spy business.  Thomas Ward had been sent out numerous times to spy on the Continental Army and to make small raids into the countryside.  They became friends as Cuyler was the money behind some of these operations.  Cuyler was not an active soldier.  They came up with an idea, not so much for the greater glory of the British Army, not even so much to put down the rebellion, but an idea on how to make money.  What is war without a little profiteering!

 

What were the basic fuels in the 18th century?  Wood and coal.  Coal was mined in Nova Scotia, but wood was available everywhere.  However, by the winter of 1779-1780, there wasn’t a tree left on Manhattan Island.  There are many more trees in New York City today than there were in 1780.  New York City at the time was only the lowest tip of Manhattan.  Most of the rest had been woods, then turned into farmland.  Beyond the farms, the land had been completely deforested.

 

There was not only an army to provide fuel for, but also an immense civilian population.  The peacetime population of New York City swelled with all the civilian refugees who had flooded in to the city.

 

To pay for the war, the rebellious colonies confiscated Loyalist property whether there was someone still living there or not.  They needed money.  France was providing some of the colonies with cash, as was Holland and Spain.  But the rebel forces needed cash any way they could get it. An easy way  was to confiscate property.

 

All the women and children - and in some cases old men - living in these confiscated houses were kicked out.  With nowhere to go in their communities, they went to New York City.  The British had no choice but to supply provisions for these people.  The wives and the children would eventually join their husbands wherever they were.  If their husbands were in the military, they would go and join them, regardless of their rank.  If the men marched or if they sailed for South Carolina, the families went along with them.  These refugee families needed money to survive.

 

Cuyler and Ward decided the best way to raise money was to provide for the fuel needs of the British Army in New York City.  They recruited a corps, the Loyal Refugee Volunteers, to cut firewood.  They looked around to see where would be the best place to cut firewood.  The British were already getting some firewood from the area called Lloyd’s Neck, New York, which is on Long Island.  Lloyd’s Neck is about half way out, just north of the town of Huntington.  Getting wood from Lloyd’s Neck was risky.  It was right across the sound from Connecticut.  The firewood was shipped from Lloyd’s Neck by boat to New York City.  The boats were liable to be attacked, and their cargoes of firewood lost.  They needed a safer, more local source.

 

That source was New Jersey, the area that was called Bergen Neck, in what is today Hudson County, and was then Bergen County.  Bergen County extended to the northeast corner of New Jersey, with New York State on one side, New York City on the other, and extending down to what is now Bayonne.  The furthest tip was called Bergen Point.  About half way up was a place called Bull’s Ferry.

 

It was at Bull’s Ferry where Cuyler and Ward decided to build a blockhouse.  A blockhouse is a fortification.  As the name implies, it’s a house, a heavy wooden house.  Around it there would be a ditch.  There would be a chauve en défriche and a tall abatis (a wall of pointed stakes) to keep people out.  There would be a second story.  There would be slits in the walls.  There would be firing holes.  There would be openings for small cannon.   This was thought to be a safe defense against any small attack, anything that would likely be sent against them. When Ward and his friends made this blockhouse, it was intended to accommodate perhaps a hundred and fifty men.

 

Anthony Hollinshead appears as one of the first people to join in the endeavour of Cuyler and Ward.  He was appointed a lieutenant and quartermaster.  A quartermaster is a person in charge of supplies and encampments.  Now for a corps that doesn’t get anything from the British, that’s a challenging assignment!  The way they got their supplies was through the sale of the firewood.  They’d cut the firewood on Bergen Neck, chop it up into cords (ready-cut firewood), or they’d cut it into prefabricated fortifications (prefab abatis stakes of specified lengths), and sell them to the British Barrack Master General’s Department.  The Barrack Master General’s Department was in charge of firewood. They would give out the firewood to the British Regiments, Loyalists, Germans and others on the British side.

 

Ward & Cuyler decided to deal with the British exclusively.  They soon realized they could supplement their income through less official means by raiding into the countryside, finding their enemies, the rebels, and attacking them.  If these rebels had horses, if they had cows, if they had sheep, if they had nice furniture, the Refugees would confiscate them in the name of the King and bring them back to the blockhouse to sell in New York City.  Not only did it get them food as in the cases of the cattle, but it also provided ready cash because the British Army or the civilian population would buy these things as well as the firewood.  The money would be divided into shares.  Everyone who took part in a raid got a share of the money.  Those who stayed behind at the blockhouse would get a share, though a smaller one, as their job was important, too.  The proceeds of the wood sales, the money from the Barrack Master General, would be split into shares and distributed among those involved in cutting the wood.  Each person would get a number of shares of the money, depending on their rank.  Anthony, as an officer, would get more than a private would.

 

These activities continued, though with some irregularities from time to time.  The British occasionally would accuse Ward through Cuyler of not completely fulfilling contracts.  If abatis stakes was supposed to be 9 feet long, some might be only 7 or 8 feet long.  The seller could get a few more stakes that way!

 

While this wrangling was going on, the Continental Army decided they’d had enough of these Refugees.  The Refugees had built their blockhouse on May 25th in 1780.  By July, less than two months later, the rebels were so sick of these Refugees at the blockhouse that the general, Anthony Wayne, who commanded the Pennsylvania Line of the Continental Army, decided he’d grab a quick, easy victory.  He took the 1st and 2nd Pennsylvania Brigades, a regiment of Continental Artillery under Colonel Proctor, a regiment of Continental Cavalry under Colonel Moyland, 1800 Continental Army soldiers (what the British described as “The flower of the Continental Army”).  This force was led by the general who had successful taken the heavily fortified fort at Stony Point just a year before.  Wayne decided he would go against these Refugees, wipe out their blockhouse, collect all the cattle in the countryside and bring it back to the Continental Army.  An easy task!

 

The Loyalists had no idea that this force was coming against them.  They had built their blockhouse to defend themselves against the local militia, which was not very troublesome at the time.  Bergen County was heavily Loyalist.  They didn’t receive too many visitors at their blockhouse who were against them.

 

On July 21st, 1780, Anthony Wayne led his men towards the blockhouse on Bergen Neck, the blockhouse at Bull’s Ferry.  The blockhouse itself stood on what is today the Palisades, toward their southern tip.  These are sheer cliffs rising up from the Hudson River. Ward’s men would cut the firewood and bring it down the cliffs to waiting boats.  The boats would sail across the Hudson River to New York City where they would deliver the firewood.  Wayne arranged his brigades, distributing his men to block any British reinforcements that might come.  Without even summoning the blockhouse to surrender, he marched a thousand of his men to within 160 yards of the blockhouse and let loose on it with six cannon.

 

Wayne, in his own defense, would later say that the blockhouse was so sturdy - the wood was so thick - that their cannonballs simply bounced off it.  They could make no penetration.   The day after the battle, Sir Henry Clinton, the British Commander in Chief in America, visited the blockhouse and found fifty-two holes where the cannonballs had gone through, in one wall alone.  This fusillade of cannonballs lasted 2½ hours.  For 2½ hours, six artillery pieces blasted at the blockhouse at what was pointblank range for artillery. 

 

The few small pieces of artillery that Hollinshead and the Loyalists had in the blockhouse were smashed to bits almost immediately.  They had only their muskets, and not all of the Loyalists even had muskets.  There is some debate as to how many men were in the blockhouse.  It came down through lore and  history as “the brave 70 defenders of the blockhouse.”  Other accounts would say 84.  I’ve got the original lists.  They made two lists of everybody who was in the blockhouse.  One says 110.  The other says 122.  Part of the reason for the discrepancy is they didn’t feel it important to record that there were twenty blacks in the blockhouse as well.  Four, five or six of the Loyalists were killed, depending on which British account you read.   There were eight, nine or fifteen wounded.  As time passed the number of casualties seemed to increase, making the story even more heroic.

 

Wayne, sensing that the attack was not going well and that the part of his army that was rounding up cattle was succeeding, decided to withdraw from the battlefield, to leave the blockhouse.  He sent orders to his troops to withdraw - according to his account.  Somehow his regiments misinterpreted the order to “withdraw” as an order to “charge.”   There are accounts of orders to charge being interpreted as to retreat, willingly or not, but in this case, the Pennsylvanians charged.

 

To get to the blockhouse, they would first have had to take out axes and chop down the abatis’, the deadly sharpened stakes that were pointing at them.  They were unable to do that.  They never got to the doors of the blockhouse.  The Loyalists who had not fired much to that point opened up with all their musketry.  Firing muskets at 160 yards is useless.  An effective range of a musket is only about 80 to 100 yards.  Further than that, a soldier is wasting his powder.   Muskets are not like rifles.  They have smooth barrels, fire one-ounce lead balls, and don’t shoot very straight.  So soldiers wait ‘til the enemy gets within range.  Battles in the 18th century were usually fought with the combatants between 50 and 70 yards apart.  So the Loyalists (Hollinshead, Ward, their companions) opened up with all their musketry as the Pennsylvanians tried to get through the abatis’.  Wayne confessed to losing fifteen officers and sergeants and privates killed, and forty-six wounded. Those were among his Continentals.  A number of the militia had joined in the attack, and they, too, lost a number of men.  The British would claim that Wayne actually lost a hundred and fifty men

 

After this debacle the Pennsylvanians broke and retreated, finally doing what they were ordered to do.  Ward, Hollinshead and their men were down to their last round.  Rather than sit back and go, “Whew!” they sallied out and went after Wayne, retaking twenty head of cattle, and capturing Wayne’s servant and his baggage wagon.

 

Thomas Ward and every man in that blockhouse instantly became the toast of New York City.  The British who had not wanted to give these people food, had not wanted to give these people clothing, had not wanted to give these people arms or ammunition, suddenly loved them.  They published in the paper, “From now on, from this point forward, you want hats, you got hats; you want muskets, you got muskets; ammunition, no problem!”

 

As mentioned, Sir Henry Clinton, the Commander in Chief of the Army in America went over the next day, visited the blockhouse, met Hollinshead, met the men, and was stunned!  There were fifty-two cannonball holes in just one wall.  Supposedly there were a hundred and fifty cannonball holes in the entire blockhouse, on both floors.

 

The Adjutant General of the British Army, John André, the young handsome playwright, decided to immortalize this episode in poetry as The Cow Chace.   The inhabitants of New York were amused by this wonderfully funny piece of poetry.  It makes great fun of Anthony Wayne and the Continental Army officers. It even makes fun of the Dutch inhabitants of New Jersey.   It’s a marvelous piece.   In the last stanzas, The Cow Chace mentions how André trembles lest he ever meet Wayne.  On the day that the last canto was published in the New York City papers, John André was captured in civilian clothing behind rebel lines.  He had been meeting with Benedict Arnold to arrange for Arnold to give West Point over to the British.  André was hanged as a spy within a week of the last canto of The Cow Chace being published.

 

This affair became recognized worldwide.  Following is an extract from a letter, from Captain von Wanginheim, of the German Army.  He’s from the Hesse-Kassel Field Yager Corps, the famous German Yagers (hunters and riflemen).  He wrote home to his brother. The letter says:

 

Dear Brother,

The only important action happened this way.  Loyalists, these are Royal supporters, inhabitants of this land who are driven from house and home and mistreated, have placed themselves under Royal protection.  They were issued weapons, received provisions so they can live with no pay.  They are a type of militia.  They search for the people who mistreated them and do as much damage as they can.  [incorrect]  On the other side of the North River [the Hudson River] at a place called Bull’s Ferry they have constructed a miserable blockhouse with two wretched iron cannon which was manned by eighty-four men.   It was constructed to protect these people from raiding parties as most of them are occupied in cutting firewood for the Army in New York.  This is the way they earn their keep.  As the Rebels don’t dare to attack us [the main British Army in New York], or can’t, but still wish to undertake something, they decided to take this miserable post.  Their General Wayne, who took Stony Point because of our unforgivable carelessness, to the shame of our military - he would not have been able normally to take it with an army - this Alexander, [General Alexander Wayne] received orders to carry out this expedition.  He received eighteen hundred men, mostly selected and volunteers, six cannon and one howitzer, and about 8 a.m. approached the blockhouse.  A Loyalist, Captain Ward, collected his scattered men at the blockhouse and exhorted them that the enemy approaches, that they must defend themselves to the last man, that reinforcement will arrive in an hour [it never did], to conserve their ammunition.  They had fifteen cartridges each [fifteen rounds per man] and they promised to obey him. About 9 a.m. the enemy was six hundred paces from the blockhouse and opened up with their artillery, a heavy cannonade, until 10 a.m. [Wayne said it was 11:30. He was there, and he probably knew better.]  This fire dismounted one of the iron cannon in the blockhouse, which received sixty-four hits and killed four and wounded nine.  This fire didn’t faze Captain Ward’s brave gang, and the enemy thought, as there was little or no fire from the blockhouse, they thought they had caused great damage and began an assault to try and break through the curtain.  Here they experienced what brave people can do.  In the course of fifteen minutes they shot so well the enemy had to retreat with the loss of five officers and a hundred and fifty privates.  What a shame to retreat from a bunch of militia!

 

Captain Ward brought some men out to chase the fleeing enemy to take some captives.  Sir Henry Clinton praised and rewarded these Loyalists.  These men defended and deported themselves better than the sharpest, best-trained officers with the best troops. In Europe they would have made the name of their Commander eternally famous.  And this was done by farmers!

 

I am concerned that this event will receive no recognition in Europe, but it happened just the way I described.

 

This officer, while he didn’t get quite all the facts right, got the gist of the story correct, and thought enough of it that he wanted to tell his brother in Germany to make sure someone in Europe knew what had happened.

 

They found out in England, too, what had happened.   Sir Henry Clinton, the British Commander in Chief, thought these people did a pretty good job so he wrote to Lord George Germain, the British Secretary of State for America to make sure that people in England knew what had happened.

 

I have the satisfaction of communicating to your Lordship an instance of courage, which reflects the greatest honour on a small body of refugees.  About seventy of them had taken post, on a part of the opposite shore of the North River called Bull’s Ferry, where they had fortified themselves with a blockhouse and stockade, to be protected in cutting wood, the labour they were employed in for their maintenance.

 

A corps of near two thousand rebels under their Generals Wayne, Irving and Proctor, with seven pieces of cannon, made an attack upon them on the 21st ultimate.  Notwithstanding a cannonade of 3 hours, almost every shot of which penetrated throughout the blockhouse, and in an attempt to carry the place by assault, they were repulsed by these brave men, with the loss of a great many killed and wounded.  The exertions of the Refugees did not cease after having resisted so great a force.  They followed the enemy, seized their stragglers, and rescued from them the cattle they were driving from the neighbouring district.

 

The blockhouse which I visited, was pierced with fifty-two shot in one face only, and the two small guns that were in it dismounted.  Six of the refugees were killed and fifteen wounded, the far greater part in the blockhouse.

 

Two months later, by October of 1780, the letter had been received in England and presented to the King.  King George himself was made aware of what Anthony Hollinshead and his friends had done in New Jersey.

 

Lord Germain wrote back to Sir Henry Clinton:

 

The very extraordinary instance of courage shown by the seventy Loyal Refugees in the affair at Bull’s Ferry of which you made such honourable mention, is a pleasing proof of the spirit and resolution with which men in their circumstances will act against their oppressors, and how great advantages the King’s Service may derive from employing those of a proved fidelity.  And His Majesty, to encourage such exertions, commands me to desire you will acquaint the survivors of the brave seventy that their intrepid behaviour is approved by their Sovereign.

 

The honeymoon didn’t last long.  Even before these words had reached them, things had happened.  Cuyler more and more accused Thomas Ward of cheating him.  Cuyler and Ward of course were the people who were going to make the most money off the firewood since they were the principal investors.  This corps was unique in that its purpose was entrepreneurship.  Cuyler kept accusing Ward of diverting wood to sell privately in New York City where he could get more for it on the black market.

 

Finally in August of 1780 the partnership was dissolved.  A schism happened within the Regiment.  Certain officers agreed with Cuyler; others agreed with Ward.  Those who agreed with Cuyler moved out to Long Island where they established a post at Smithtown.  Those who stayed with Ward had to abandon their post at Bull’s Ferry.  With the loss of the men who went with Cuyler, the post was substantially weakened.   As well, there were many Continental troops hovering in the area and it was expected they’d be back.  The Refugees knew rightly that they probably wouldn’t be so lucky next time.  They burned the blockhouse and left for New York City.

 

By late September, they had found a new friend in the person of Governor William Franklin, the same person who had been arrested in New Jersey, the erstwhile Governor of New Jersey.  While he had been a prisoner in Connecticut, he had pleaded with his father, Benjamin Franklin, and with George Washington to be turned loose on parole to return to New York City as he had received word that his wife was in ill health and dying.  George Washington felt very poorly about this but was not in a position to do anything because it was a civil matter.  Benjamin Franklin, whose word certainly would have gotten William Franklin released, said nothing.  As a result William Franklin’s wife died in New York City before William Franklin was exchanged.  This made him one very bitter ex-Governor!  William Franklin was looking for any means to wreak revenge on his former New Jerseyans.

 

He met with Ward, Hollinshead, and their friends, and decided that they would now re-establish a new post on Bergen Neck and raid into the countryside even more than before.  For a brief time Ward and Hollinshead and their post were a part of what was known as the Associated Loyalists, the brain child of William Franklin and some other leading prominent civilian Loyalists.  These were people who would wage war in their own way throughout the rebel countryside.  They were nominally under the control of the British but answered in fact to a Board of Directors.  Again, it was almost a business undertaking, as it was necessary to provide for their own arms, their own food, their own clothing.

 

This started what was called the “small war”, the petite guerre.  These aren’t the big battles of the revolution.  This isn’t the Battle of Balma.  This isn’t the Philadelphia Campaign, or the Battle of Brandywine, or Yorktown, or Gilbert Fort House.  This is 20 or 30 or 40 or 50 people per side, going through the night taking cattle, engaging in small skirmishes, 10 or 20 people a side.  These are the things that you are not going to read about in the history books.  It was very personal.  Raiders would go into neighbourhoods where they had formerly lived.  They would go up against their former neighbours.  The people who they were shooting at, they knew by name.

 

People tend to regard the War Between the States, 1861-1865, as the Civil War; people from North Carolina fighting against fellow countrymen from New York, or Pennsylvania, or Virginia.  The petite guerre was neighbour against neighbour.  It doesn’t get more personal than that.

 

This sort of warfare went on through 1780, through 1781, into 1782.  They established a new blockhouse in the remains of Fort Lee, which is where the George Washington Bridge is now on the New Jersey side.  They engaged in some skirmishing.  George Washington sent a huge expedition against the blockhouse, but it was late in getting there.  The British had found out about it, and prepared 2000 men to go to the aid of Hollinshead and his friends.  Hollinshead, of course, was one of the people who stayed with Ward.  Before Washington’s army could get to the blockhouse the British had decided that it wasn’t worth defending and ordered them to abandon it.  Ward and Hollinshead and their folks by this time had gathered over 400 Loyalists under them.  Cuyler and his people who had gone out to Long Island remained in obscurity with less than 100 men.  Ward and Hollinshead would see the brunt of the action in New Jersey for the rest of the war.

 

Most people think that the war ended at Yorktown with the surrender of Lord Cornwallis’s army.  It actually didn’t.  The definitive peace treaty of course wasn’t signed until 1783.  All offensive actions in the north pretty much came to an end, but the “small war” did not.  Ward and Hollinshead and his folks were still on Bergen Neck, still cutting down wood for the British Army.  In the winter of 1781 the British Barrack Master said that if it hadn’t been for Ward and his people, the British Army in New York would have frozen to death.

 

However, the story doesn’t have a completely happy ending.   Considering that the British lost, for Anthony Hollinshead that was a very unhappy ending.  But, it got even worse than that.  The wood that Ward and Hollinshead and their fold had been cutting on Bergen Neck was not King’s Land; it wasn’t just forest.  All that land was private property.  People who lived on Bergen Neck, mostly Dutch, considered it their property.  Ward and Hollinshead were supposed to pay these people a certain amount of money based on British regulations stating how much firewood should cost.  Brits didn’t go around simply taking things; they were pretty good about paying for what they took.  The landowners accused Ward, and through Ward, everyone under him, of not paying for what they took.  They started to complain to the British.  Some of the people who complained, Ward threw in jail.  They had little tribunals and the British would release them because the charges were pretty much trumped up.  This continued into early 1782.  These people banded together and did the one thing that would ensure the destruction of Ward’s corps, do what Anthony Wayne could not do—they hired a lawyer.  A gentleman by the name of Henry Van Shack, an attorney from New York, started a litany of correspondence with the British Commander in Chief, first Sir Henry Clinton and, when Clinton resigned his commission as Commander in Chief and went home, the new Commander in Chief, Sir Guy Carleton.

 

Ward and his folks did everything in their power to stay in business.  They presented Sir Guy Carleton with a beautiful memorial saying how honoured they were to have such an active, seasoned, brave veteran.  They also presented a memorial to Prince William Henry who was perhaps the last royal visitor to New York while it was still under British rule.  They met Admiral Digby, who was the Commander of the Royal Navy at that time in New York.  They did everything they could to stay in business.  It was not to be.  Ward could see the handwriting on the wall.  There were no more offensive operations that were going to take place.  The British had put a clampdown on that, and they told him that he could now no longer go into the countryside raiding cattle and that sort of thing.  As for the firewood issue—they could no longer cut the trees on private property, and since they could no longer cut the trees on private property, they were out of business.

 

By the end of September of 1782, they concluded, “For us the war is over.”  Even though New York City would remain in British hands until November 25th of 1783, Ward and Hollinshead and most of the people of their corps left for Nova Scotia in advance of the majority of Loyalists.

 

For them the war was finished.

 

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