Pensioners: William Bradley and Matthew Collier, 33rd Regiment

When British soldiers received pensions, copies of their discharge papers were put on file in the War Office. Many of these documents survive to day, and provide a treasure trove of information about the individuals who made up the army. Besides details on the man's age, place of birth and trade, the discharge document usually recorded the reason that the man was no longer fit for military service. Often this is a simple and uninformative phrase like "worn out," but occasionally it reveals insight into aspects of a soldier's life that are easy to overlook.

After the 33rd Regiment of Foot sailed for America in the closing days of 1775, it's recruiting parties in Great Britain worked hard to provide the steady stream of recruits required to maintain its strength. In 1777 they enlisted a 17-year-old Yorkshire native named William Bradley. Just under 5-foot 6-inches tall, Bradley had no trade. Like many recruits, he spent years with the recruiting party and in training at Chatham Barracks before joining his regiment in America on 3 June 1780. Having enlisted after the war began, he was entitled to be discharged at the close of hostilities in 1783 but rejoined the 33rd in Nova Scotia. He continued to serve until 1792 when he was discharged and awarded a pension due to “having been Ruptured by lifting a Weight when on Fatigue at the Island of Cape Breton.” Hernia, called rupture during this era, was a moderately common ailment among old soldiers which reflects the hard labor that sometimes characterized their duties.

16-year-old Mathew Collier, a native of New Jersey, had a similar career. A rare example of an American who enlisted in a British regular regiment after the war began, the muster rolls of the 33rd indicate that Collier enlisted on 10 April 1777. The 5-foot 10-inch soldier was appointed as a drummer some time after that. He was also entitled to be discharged at the end of the war, but also chose to reinlist for service with the regiment in Canada and then in Great Britain. He was discharged in Dublin on the same day in 1792 as Bradley, having spent half his life in the army. The pension board recognized that he would have difficulty earning a living as a laborer “by being Ruptured & having a dislocated Shoulder which he received when on a Fatigue party at Kings Bridge North America.”

Both of these men may have experienced the rigors of campaigns and battles in America, but the surviving information tells us only of their injuries from common fatigue duties that were endured by soldiers in all locations.

18th Century military books and first-hand accounts of the American Revolution

Pensioner: Daniel Hollowell, 33rd Regiment of Foot

When General Howe’s army landed in Maryland to advance on Philadelphia on 23 August 1777, 30-year-old Daniel Hollowell was among the soldiers in the light infantry company of the 33rd Regiment serving in the 1st Battalion of Light Infantry. Hollowell (who's name is spelled various ways on the muster rolls and other documents) had been a soldier since 1766 or 1767 so it was fitting that he was among the experienced men in the elite light infantry. Although he must have been a generally well-behaved and trusted soldier to serve in this corps, on this campaign he ran into some trouble.

Four days after the initial landing while the army was still preparing to advance, Hollowell was confined by his company commander “irregular behaviour.” When he was put into confinement, his necessaries (extra shirts, stockings and shoes) were taken to him and remained with him while he was a prisoner. On campaign, “confinement” by the quarter-guard seems to have had a probationary nature, with Hollowell doing normal duty during the day but being put under the supervision of the guard at night. On 31 August, after four days of this confinement, Hollowell was turned over to the quarter-guard at dusk as usual. A few hours later he and his necessaries were missing, but no word of a deserter seems to have reached the men on piquet duty around the periphery of the encampment.

At around 9PM, an advanced piquet (one of a series of sentries placed at intervals) belonging to the light infantry battalion noticed an approaching man fall in the road. The piquet challenged, and it was a drunken Hollowell who got up and approached out of the darkness. When questioned by the piquet, Hollowell claimed to be bringing a drink to a comrade who was also a sentry. It is not clear whether this was before or after the quarter-guard determined that Hollowell was missing, but the piquet was not alarmed by the discovery and simply pointed him in the right direction.

Some minutes later the piquet heard another disturbance in bushes near his post. Receiving no response to his challenges, the piquet attempted to fire, but his musket misfired. Advancing to investigate, the piquet found Hollowell who this time claimed to be trying to find his way back to the encampment. Not having any reason to be suspicious of him, the piquet once again pointed him in the right direction and sent him on his way.

Around dawn, two non-commissioned officers who were visiting the sentries discovered one soldier carefully observing something in front. The sentry pointed out a man approaching to whom the sentry had twice called challenges but gotten no response. The non-commissioned officers stepped out of view to let him get closer. When the intruder was about forty yards away, they rushed out and ordered him to stand. It was Hollowell, who this time claimed that he was going to wash a shirt (according to one of the non-commissioned officers) or to fill a canteen (according to the other). Not satisfied with Hollowell’s explanation, the non-commissioned officers confined him. He was wearing a cloak over his clothing, and when searched was found to be carrying nothing besides a canteen.

When Hollowell was tried the next day by a general court martial for desertion, he testified that he was drunk, had no intention of desertion, but had simply lost his way and was making for the camp fires of the battalion when he was taken. The court inquired whether he had taken his necessaries with him. When he was reported missing from the quarter-guard the serjeant of the guard was unable to locate Hollowell’s necessaries but testified that they were present again after Hollowell was once more confined. No explanation was given for this anomaly, but since Hollowell had not been carrying any extra clothing no further inquiry was made. He was never seen going away from the army and never behaved as though attempting to desert. The court found Hollowell innocent and released him. Oddly enough no one sought an explanation for why he was away from confinement or how he had gotten liquor.

We have no evidence that Hollowell got into any other trouble. He continued in the 33rd Regiment until 1791 when he was discharged and received an out-pension, but soon enlisted again in the 95th Regiment for another six years. He was finally discharged and pensioned in 1798 at the age of 54 after 32 years of service.

18th Century military books and first-hand accounts of the American Revolution

Criminal: Alexander Murray, 81st Regiment

Escaped from Dunfernline Gaol, the evening of the 27th ult. Alexander Murray labourer, apprehended as a disorderly person guilty of crimes, and inlisted with Lieut. Gregor Farquarson of the 81st regiment, as a volunteer under the impress act, and was by him secured in gaol till an opportunity should occur to transmit him to the regiment.
He was born in the parish of Muthil, Perthshire, is about 26 years of age, 5 feet 7 3/4 inches high or thereby, fair complexion, black hair, dark grey eyes, stout built, and a little droop shouldered, had on when he went away, a big blue duffil coat, with dark grey cloaths, and light blue stockings.
Whoever shall apprehend said deserter betwixt and the 1st of April next [sic], and lodge him within any secure gaol in Great Britain, shall be intitled to L. 2 ½ ster. of reward over and above the premium allowed by act of parliament by applying to the treasurer of the burgh of Dunfermline, or to Mr. John Flockart writer in Edinburgh.
It is hoped that no officer will inlist that man, nor none pretend to secret him, otherways they will be prosecuted in terms of law for secreting deserters.

[Edinburgh Advertiser, 23 February 1779]

The 81st Regiment did not serve in America during the 1775-1783 war. This advertisement, however, affords an opportunity to dispel popular bits of dogma about the soldiers who fought in America during that conflict. The key misconceptions are that men were impressed into the army, and that convicted criminals were routinely put into the army instead of into jail. While examples of both practices can be found, they represent only a very small portion of the army and, more importantly, not the soldiers who were sent to fight in America. The idea that the British Army was made up primarily of the lowest and foulest men that society had to offer is the result of generalizing these specialized activities - enlistment of criminal and impressment - which actually applies only to very specialized circumstances.

An excellent article on this topic is "The recruitment of criminals into the British army, 1775-81" (Stephen R. Conway. Historical Research, lviii (May 1985) 46-58). Conway explains the laws that allowed, under very specific circumstances, convicted men to be offered military service as an alternative to prison. He also presents records which show that, although legal, the practice was not at all widespread; only 784 convicts in England and Wales were pardoned between 1775 and 1781 on the condition that they join the army or marines.

A key reason for the low numbers is that the army didn't want convicts any more than the general population did. Not being a bunch of complete idiots, army officers did not for a moment think that men who were poor citizens would somehow be good soldiers. For this reason, the vast majority of these convicts-cum-soldiers were, in the spirit of transporting criminals, sent to undesirable locations plagued by high mortality rates such as Africa, India and the West Indies (the British army had a corps referred to as the “Africa Corps” during this era). There is no evidence that any appreciable numbers of these men served in regiments in America.

A related misunderstanding is that men were pressed into the army, when in fact it was primarily a volunteer force. For most of the 1770s and 1780s, British law prohibited impressing or conscripting men into the army. Enlistment was voluntary. A brief exception occurred during the American War between May 1778 and May 1780 when acts were passed allowing the army to press men – that is, force them into the service – under certain conditions. The first law was passed in May 1778, revised in February 1779, and suspended in May of that year. It was resumed in November but repealed once and for all in May 1780. Under these laws, civil officials could turn over to the military “all able-bodied idle, and disorderly Persons, who could not, upon Examination, prove themselves to exercise and industriously follow some lawful Trade or Employment, or to have some Substance sufficient for their Support and Maintenance.” Also eligible for press were those convicted of theft-related crimes of goods valued under 40 pounds Sterling.

The press acts were passed because of the urgent need to expand the armed forces when France entered the war. Their repeal was due not only to reduced fears of invasion two years later, but also because they were extremely unpopular with both the populace and with the army. No one expected pressed men to make good soldiers. In his popular book Military Antiquities published in 1786, British militia officer Francis Grose described the sentiments clearly:

An act for impressing soldiers took place in 1779, when all the thieves, pickpockets and vagabonds in the environs of London, too lame to run away, or too poor to bribe the parish officers, were apprehended and delivered over as soldiers to the regiments quartered in the very townes [sic] and villages where these banditti had lived and been taken; these men being thus set at large in the midst of their old companions and connections, immediately deserted, whereby the whole expence, by no means an inconsiderable one, was thrown away: nor did the soldiers of the regiments on which they were imposed, take the least pains to prevent their escape, or to retake them; as they justly considered being thus made the companions of thieves and robbers, a most grievous and cruel insult, and loudly complained of it as such, to their officers. Indeed it seems to have been a very ill judged measure, tending to destroy that professional pride, that esprit de corps which ought most assiduously to be cultivated in every regiment. The profession of a soldier has long ceased to be lucrative, if it ever was so. If it is likewise made dishonorable, where shall we get soldiers on whom we may depend? when the exigencies of the time make it necessary to take such men into the service, they should at least be sent to regiments quartered in a distant part of the kingdom, where they and their characters are equally unknown, or divided among the regiments on foreign service.

The best that can be said of the press acts was that they induced able men to enlist voluntarily rather than risk being pressed, which at least afforded them some opportunity to choose the regiment and therefore the location in which they might serve. From March through November 1779, for example, a total of 1,463 men were pressed in England and Wales, and another 61 in Scotland between March and July. If these men were distributed evening throughout the army, it is easy to see that no one regiment received many of them.

The impact of the press acts on regiments in America was minimal. No records have been found describing which regiments pressed men were put into, but clearly only men recruited at certain times between May 1778 and May 1780 could legally have been impressed. The 22nd Regiment of Foot, which served in America from 1775 through 1783, provides an example of the proportion of pressed men that could possibly have been in a regiment, regardless of the actual number. During its eight years in America, just over 1000 men (not counting officers) spent some time serving in this regiment. Of those, no more than 150 were recruited during the time window of the press acts. We do not know if any of these men actually were impressed, but this illustrates the maximum proportion that could have been. Other evidence suggests that impressed men were not preferred for service in America. A newspaper reported that “In order to expedite the embarkation of the troops intended for America, government mean to draft most of the men from the old corps in England to complete the regiments abroad, and the new levies, now about to be raised by the impress act, are to fill up their vacancies.”

The term “criminal” also carries a connotation that overstates the notoriety of lawbreakers who were given the option to become soldiers. Besides the “thieves, pickpockets and vagabonds” noted by Francis Grose, men convicted of sheep-stealing, burglary, orchard robbing, abandoning their families, indebtedness, smuggling, poaching and other petty crimes were given the option of soldiering instead of prison. The press acts briefly widened the range of convictions that might land a man in uniform rather than prison. For magistrates, the army offered an opportunity for wayward men to get their lives on course, and to this day military service is often recommended for those with minor criminal records who nonetheless have some promise. More hardened criminals were not given the enlistment choice, for the simple reason that the army did not want them any more than the civilian population did. Army officers did not for a moment think that men who failed to follow civil laws would succeed as soldiers.

To summarize, it was possible to for criminals to be pardoned on the condition that they serve in the army, and during a specific time period it was possible for men including criminals to be pressed into service. Alexander Murray of the 81st Regiment, described in the advertisement above, is an example of the latter. This type of recruiting, however, did not characterize the army as a whole, but provided only a small fraction of its overall strength. The number of pardoned criminals and impressed men that served in America was negligible.

18th Century military books and first-hand accounts of the American Revolution

Executed: John Lindon, 22nd Regiment of Foot

Wives of British soldiers were an integral part of the British military, but information about them as individuals is difficult to find. Strength returns often give the number of women who were part of a regiment, and groups of returns allows us to do some statistics, make generalities, and understand some things about how women fit in to the military system. But these are just numbers. When numbers of soldiers change, we can often correlate the changes to recruiting efforts, illness, or combat. Usually we can find the names of the soldiers and the dates on which they joined their regiments, deserted, died or were discharged. Rarely are we so well informed about the women.

The proceedings of a British Court Martial held in February 1781 give some details about one of the hundreds of British army wives serving in America. On trial was John Lindon, a private soldier in the 22nd Regiment of Foot who had joined the regiment in 1767. The various testimonies given at the trial tell a story that sounds more like something from a modern prime time news program than a vignette from the American Revolution.

John Lindon's wife (whose first name we do not know) worked as an army nurse. It was quite common for soldiers' wives to be employed by the army in some capacity or another, and nursing was a reasonably well-paying job (read more about soldiers' wives, their jobs and living conditions). When the 22nd Regiment departed Rhode Island for New York in late 1779, Mrs. Lindon did not sail on the same ship with her husband; he claimed that she also took all of his necessaries (shirts, shoes and stockings). When the regiment encamped in the New York area, she refused to live with her husband.

In August of 1780, Lindon sought out his wife at the hospital where she worked. Grace Chapman, another nurse, explained

that much discourse pass'd between the Prisoner and his Wife, which she the Deponent did not attend to - that she heard the Prisoner desire his Wife not to be in a Passion, that he said he only wanted his right, that the deceas'd ask'd What was his right - He answer'd "herself was" - She then reply'd - "She would never live with him or any one else" that the Prisoner said - "if she would not live with him she should not live with any one else" - that she the Deponent turn'd her head towards the Window; thinking the Prisoner was gone out of the Room.

Donald Cameron, soldier of the 74th Regiment, did not turn away and was able to relate the subsequent events:

The Prisoner and his Wife were disputing and she desir'd him to go away and not make a Disturbance in the Hospital - He answer'd, he would not go 'till he had his right - She ask'd him, What his right was - He answer'd herself - She then made Answer, She never would go with him, the Prisoner then said if you had told me so when I first came in, I should have gone away and said no more, for that was all I wanted - He the Deponent was at this time sitting on the Bed. He observ'd the Prisoner take up his Firelock [musket] and face towards the Door, and supposes, He at that time cock'd his Firelock - He then said if you do not live with me, you shall not live with any one else, and then turn'd round and fir'd his Piece - that the Woman immediately fell and to the best of his the Deponent's recollection, died in four or five hours afterwards.

Cameron said Lindon did not

shew any Concern - He levell'd his Piece in such a Manner, not bringing it to his Shoulder, that He the Deponent, thought he was going to Charge or Strike the Woman, and was going to prevent him, but before he the Deponent could effect his intent, the Piece was fir'd... To the best of his recollection the Muzzle of the Piece touch'd her Cloaths.

The final witness, Surgeon Thomas Ady, treated Mrs. Lindon and said,

she had been shot thro the Body, below her breast - that the Woman died the same day, and to the best of his Judgement, he thinks the Wound she had receiv'd, was the Cause of her Death

John Lindon did not deny the murder charge, but offered a defence which sounds very modern; he testified that his wife's

repeated ill behaviour exasperated him in such a manner, that at times he was not sensible and could not be accountable for his Actions - He farther says he has serv'd His Majesty Fifteen Years and submits himself to the Mercy of the Court.

He called on an Officer, Lieutenant Benjamin Craven of the 63rd Regiment of Foot, who had for several years been in Lindon's company in the 22nd. Craven pointed out "that the Character of the Prisoner in General, is that of a good Soldier."

John Lindon was found guilty, and was sentenced to be hanged by the neck until dead. He was executed 22 March 1781.

Neither John Lindon nor Mrs. Lindon could know that their tragic demise would be remembered two centuries later. Their situation makes many current news events appear not so unique to our times. More importantly, a real person can be associated with the cold numbers which we often must use to learn about the period. An event can be associated with a change in the numbers. The story of Mrs. Lindon gives a reminder that every number represents an individual who had their own unique circumstances to live with every day, and who by their very existence became a part of history to be discovered.

18th Century military books and first-hand accounts of the American Revolution

Employed soldiers: John Watkins and Patrick Lenahan, 22nd Regiment

John Watkins enlisted in the 22nd Regiment of Foot on 13 November 1766 at the age of 26. He may have served previously in the army for four or five years, but that is not clear. He first appears on the muster rolls of the 22nd on 8 December 1766. In 1767 or early 1768 he deserted, and was taken up in Devonshire and returned to the regiment. The native of Scotland was a tailor and by 1775, if not sooner, was working at his trade for the regiment.

Patrick Lenahan joined the 22nd Regiment of Foot on 15 March 1775, when the regiment was recruiting to full strength in preparation for embarkation for America. The Irishman was also a tailor, and it wasn't long before he was working with Watkins.

Normally, regiments in America received new regimental clothing (coats, and cloth for waistcoats and breeches, as well as buttons, buttonhole lace and other finishing materials) in October or November. The tailors then had the winter to make waistcoats and breeches, and fit the coats to the soldiers. The effort required to tailor fit each garment was well spent, because the clothing was expected to last for a full year and then still be usable for off-duty and fatigue use. Clothing that fit properly would wear properly, provide the best comfort when on duty, and the best defense against inclement weather. Well-fitted clothing was not a matter of form but of function.

The tailors of the 22nd Regiment may not have been so busy in the winter of 1775 because the regiment's new clothing, along with that of the 40th Regiment, had been captured when the ship carrying it sailed in to Philadelphia in August 1775. This was due to a poor understanding of the political and military situation early in the war; the 22nd and 40th had originally been ordered to New York and were diverted to Boston when they arrived off of the American coast in June. The ship with the new clothing left Great Britain several weeks after the regiments and literally passed in the night a British warship stationed to divert shipping from ports that were not under British control.

Work was nonetheless available for the tailors. At the court martial of another soldier in Boston, John Watkins testified that he cut out suit of brown clothing for an officer of the 22nd as well as making a greatcoat for the officer. He also cut out a surtout (a type of overcoat) for the officer's servant. Patrick Lenahan testified that he assembled the surtout in early December. Presumably they were paid for this extra work which was outside of work on regimental clothing. The fact that Watkins cut out the garments indicates that he was the more experienced tailor, able to measure and pattern the garments, while Lenahan's being tasked only with assembly suggests that he was newer to the trade.

Two years later, Lenahan was sent from Rhode Island to Philadelphia to join the 22nd Regiment's light infantry company which had sustained a number of losses in the 1777 campaign. That he was chosen for this active, campaigning company shows that his work as a tailor did not detract from his fitness as a soldier. Unfortunately he would not remain long in this new role. He died on 18 September 1778, of unknown causes.

John Watkins enjoyed a much longer career. He served for the remainder of the war in America and returned to Great Britain with the 22nd Regiment, finally taking his discharge on 6 June 1785 after over 19 years in the 22nd Regiment. He received an out pension because he was 'worn out & rheumatic' and signed his own name on his discharge. Like many campaigners, though, Watkins was not done with the army. On 4 January 1788, at the age of 48, he joined an invalid corps on the island of Jersey, a unit that garrisoned and maintained military installations. He continued in this corps through 22 August 1800 when he was once again discharged and pensioned, this time at the age of 60.

18th Century military books and first-hand accounts of the American Revolution

Deserter: Daniel Broderick, 52nd Regiment of Foot

Researcher Stephen Gilbert has provided information from two sources that allows us to present the story of a deserter from the 52nd Regiment of Foot. We do not know when Daniel Broderick joined the 52nd, but we do know when he left it. It really was a dark and stormy night, in late November 1776. Over the previous two months, a powerful army under General Sir William how had methodically dispossessed the Continental Army of New York city and its environs, and now surrounded the last American garrison on Manhattan, Fort Washington. Broderick was part of an advanced piquet of twenty men seven miles north of the city on the road to King’s Bridge, the northern terminus of the island. Across a small valley from them was an outpost manned by Pennsylvania soldiers under the command of a young officer named Alexander Graydon. Graydon described the events of that November night in his memoir. Although published 35 years after the fact, Graydon’s description is vivid and remarkably detailed:

It was now November, and the nights becoming cold. It was the season too for north easterly storms, one of which is rendered memorable to me, from a circumstance of some interest which accompanied it. I was upon guard with lieutenant Davidson, of our battalion, at a place distinguished by the appellation of The point of rocks, which skirted the road leading to King’s-bridge. This was our most advanced piquet towards New-York, and only separated from that of the enemy by a valley a few hundred yards over. The night, as already mentioned, was extremely raw, rainy and tempestuous; and the only shelter the spot afforded was an old caboose, which had been placed there by way of guard house. A kind of chimney had been built at the mouth of it, and a fire here in calm weather, rendered it tolerably comfortable; but at this time, the smoke produced and driven in to the cabin by the storm, could not be endured; neither was the shelter from the driving rain by any means sufficient: we were dripping wet. In this miserable situation, Davidson proposed our going to a deserted house on the low ground directly across the road, where we could have a fire, and be dry and comfortable. But this I refused to do, since, though not more than thirty or forty yards from our post, and though rather an extension than a dereliction of it, yet it varied the station as to ourselves. The non-commissioned officers and the rest of the guard were, indeed, to remain there, but in case of disaster there would be blame, and the responsibility was upon us, and particularly upon myself. In this resolution, I for a long time persisted against the repeated importunities of my companion, who ingeniously obviated my objections, until at length, the storm rather encreasing than abating, I consented about midnight to go to the house, first taking the precaution to continue the line of sentinels from the point of rocks across the road and round the building at some distance from it, so that it was impossible it should be approached by the enemy unperceived, should he endeavor to grope his way into unknown hostile ground, in one of the darkest and most dismal nights that can be conceived. We had located ourselves in an outer room, where we had a good fire, and had already pretty well dried ourselves. Davidson was stretched along a bench fixed to the wall, half asleep, if not wholly so, and I was sitting before the fire, when a sudden noise of feet and voices reached the door. The latch was lifted, and as I rose up, not without considerable alarm, the first object that presented itself was a British soldier, with his musket and fixed bayonet in his hand. Who are you? said I, a deserter! “No deserter,” was the answer. My emotion did not prevent my preserving a pretty good countenance, though my first impression was, that we were surprised, and should be bayonetted out of hand. But this idea was scarcely formed, when the appearance of one of my own men behind the British soldier, changed it to a more pleasing one, and justified, if it did not induce, the addition of the term deserter, to the question of who are you? In fact, he was a deserter; but though in the very act of committing the crime he revolted against its opprobrium. I understood him, and softened down the ungraciousness of my salutation, by asking him if he had come over to us. He answered, yes. Our centinel had done his duty, but awkwardly, in not having disarmed the soldier, and introduced him in a less questionable shape.

The bustle of the incident having completely roused Davidson, and set him upon his legs, we sett to questioning our refugee. He called himself Broderick, was an intelligent fellow, and brought with him the last newspaper from New-York. He had for some time, he said, projected coming over to us, and had availed himself of this stormy night to put his design in execution. By means of the darkness, he had been enabled to separate himself from his comrades without their perceiving it, and had probably got to our sentries before they discovered him to be gone. He informed us that we might expect to be attacked in six or eight days at furthest, as some time had been employed in transporting heavy artillery to the other side of the Haerlem, and as the preparations for the assault were nearly completed. Among other things, he told us, that our situation at this house was a very unsafe one, as their patroles, still speaking as a Briton, passed very near it, and might easily sweep us off; and indeed he appeared uneasy at the idea while he staid with us. This was not long. I put him under the care of a trusty serjeant, with orders to guard him vigilantly, and to take him the head quarters, as soon as it should be light enough to find the way there. The hint we had received in regard to the enemy’s proximity, and still more our own knowledge of the comparative insecurity of our present station with the one we had left, induced us to return to the latter, maugre the comforts of a snug room and good fire. We accordingly drew in our sentinels, and repaired to the caboose, where we weathered out the remainder of the night, by this time pretty far advanced.

Daniel Broderick, apparently a literate man inasmuch as he carried a newspaper with him, made a clean break from British service, but 18 months later the fortunes of war caught up with him. He had joined the Continental army, and was serving with a detachment that was surprised and captured by British light infantry near Philadelphia on 24 April 1778. He was identified as a deserter and put on trial five days later. The proceedings of the trial tell the story:

Daniel Broderick, private Soldier, in the 52d Regt. of Foot, was brought Prisoner before the Court and accused of Deserting from the said Regt. when posted as a sentry, and bearing Arms in the Rebel Army, and the following Witnesses were examined, in support of the accusation vizt.:

Lieut. Francis Grose of the 52d Regt. of Foot being duly sworn, deposed that he knew the Prisoner to be a Soldier in the said 52d. Regt. and that he Deserted a day or two before Fort Washington was taken.

William Jewett private Soldier in the 52d. Regt. being duly sworn deposed that a few days before Fort Washington was taken a party of Twenty Men where Advanced near the 7th. Mile Stone, on the road to New York; that he and the Prisoner belonged to that Party; and he (the Witness) was posted as sentry at ten o'clock at night and relieved at 11 by the Prisoner; that upon serjeant going round to visit the sentries, he observed that one of them had quitted his Post, who upon Examination was found to be the Prisoner.

John Short, private Soldier in the 52d Regt. of Foot, being duly sworn, deposed that on the night before Fort Washington was taken, he and the prisoner was posted as senties at 11 o'clock at night, within about Twenty yards of each other, and about half an hour afterwards the serjeant upon going round to visit the sentries, found that the Prisoner had quitted his post; and that he (the Witness) was removed from the place he had before been posted, to occupy that which the Prisoner had left, and which was on the left flank.
Q. Did the Prisoner carry off his Arms and Accoutrements?
A. Yes.

Serjeant SamI Small of the Light Company of the 45th Regt. being duly sworn deposed that he was on a Party of Light Infantry that went out on the 24th instant, who took several Rebel prisoners in arms, and the prisoner was among them.
Q. (by desire of the Prisoner) Where did he see the Prisoner in Arms?
A. He can't say that he particularly saw the Prisoner with a Firelock, but he had on both Side Arms and Pouch, and all those who were taken that day had been in Arms.

William Wrangham, private Soldier in the Light Company of the 45th. Regt. being duly sworn, deposed that on the 24th inst. he went with a Party of Light Infantry and Dragoons, and fell in with some Rebels, whom the Dragoons Charged, and the Prisoner together with another were delivered up to him by a Dragoon, who had taken them, and at same time threw down two Firelocks which he said belonged to them; that the Prisoner had on his Side Arms & Pouch, which the Witness himself took off.

The prisoner being then put on his Defence said that he did not desert but that there was a field near where he was posted; which he went in order to get some turnips & fell in with five or six men, who took him Prisoner; that he told them that he had deserted in hopes of getting off again, but he was sent to Trenton and put in Goal, because he would not inlist, but afterwards inlisted in one of the Jersey Regts. in hopes of making his escape; that having heard of the proclamation, he came in upon seeing the two Dragoons, and laid down his Arms in the Church, and that he persuaded several others to do the same.

Francis Thompson, private Soldier in the 17th Regt. (Light) Dragoons, being duly sworn, was examined by desire of the Prisoner.
Q. Did not the Prisoner lay down his Arms in the Church upon his and another Dragoons coming up?
A. Upon seeing a party of Rebels go into the Church, he and the other Dragoon rode up to the Door, where one of the Party snapt his Firelock at the Witness, but the Serjeant who Commanded them said that if they (the Dragoons) would not hurt them, they would lay down their Arms, which they accordingly did, but whether the prisoner was of this party he cannot tell.
Q. by the Court. Does he recollect giving two Prisoners into the Charge of a Soldier of the Light Infantry, and throwing down their firelocks at the same time?
A. He gave the two Men into his Charge, but not the firelocks.
Q. Was the prisoner one of those?
A. He cannot say.
Q. How were those taken, or did they surrender?
A. He pursued them out of a wood and overtook them in a small Garden where upon his firing at them, they threw down their arms.
William Jewett, already sworn, was again examined, by desire of the Prisoner.
Q. Was the Prisoner posted on the left Flank when he relieved him (the Witness) at 11 oClock at night?
A. No, Short was on his Left.

The Court having Considered the Evidence for and against the prisoner, Daniel Broderick, together with what he had to offer in his Defence, is of opinion that he is Guilty of me Crimes laid to his Charge, in breach of the 1st. Article of War of the 6th. Section & of the 6th & nineteenth Articles of the 14th. Section and doth therefore Adjudge him the said Daniel Broderick to suffer Death.

The court was clearly unimpressed with Broderick’s argument that he had not intended to desert but only to forage. The simple fact was that he had left is post and therefore sealed his own fate regardless of his intentions. Graydon’s account indicates to us that Broderick crafted an excuse that he thought the court might accept; it is unlikely that he chose to dig for a few roots in the terrible weather that Graydon described.

Broderick was ordered to be executed on the common in Philadelphia on Saturday 16 May “between the Hours of Ten and Twelve.” To the best of our knowledge the sentence was carried out as ordered.

18th Century military books and first-hand accounts of the American Revolution

Escapee: John Derring, 47th Regiment of Foot

There is a line of thinking that the British army was a career of last resort, and that soldiers would desert at any chance they got. It is easy to find scraps of information to support this notion, but there is also a great deal of information to refute it. Many men served as soldiers willingly and with spirit, and some even clung tenaciously to their military careers. One example of the latter is John Derring of the 47th Regiment of Foot.

We do not know when Derring joined the army, but he was a corporal in the light infantry company by the time the 47th regiment arrived in America in 1773. Early the following year he was reduced to a private soldier. A reduction in rank can be interpreted as evidence of bad discipline, but men were reduced for other reasons: illness that prevented them from performing their duties, promotion of an even more-qualified man, detachment from the regiment for any of number of reasons, just to name a few possibilities.

In 1776 Derring was transferred from the light infantry into one of the eight battalion companies, a sign that he lacked either the fitness or the discipline for the aggressive activities of the light infantry. A few months later he transferred to another battalion company, and in September 1776 was again appointed corporal. This improvement in his situation did not last long. The following August he was on Burgoyne's campaign to Albany when he most certainly ran into disciplinary troubles. He was reduced again to private, and along with another soldier of the 47th was tried by a general court martial for "robbing Mr. William Johnson at Fort Edward on 7 August." We do not have the date of his reduction, but it appears to have occurred before the crimes was committed; possibly he had been reduced earlier in the year for another infraction. The trial was held on 10 August, and a guilty verdict was announced in general orders on the 16th. Both Derring and the other man were sentenced to receive 1000 lashes each. We have no evidence of whether the punishment was administered in part or in full, or was pardoned altogether.

In October, John Derring became one of thousands of British prisoners of war incarcerated when Burgoyne's army surrendered at Saratoga. Although initially intended to be returned to Great Britain, the Convention Army (so named for the convention that describing the terms of capitulation) was instead held in barracks outside of Boston for over a year before being marched to the interior of Virginia and Pennsylvania. This long and frustrating captivity afforded ample opportunities to desert, particularly because soldiers were offered the opportunity to work in the country. Large numbers of British soldiers effected their escape, however, not to desert but to make their way to the British army in Rhode Island, New York or Canada.

Knowing John Derring's experience as a soldier, we'd expect him to be disaffected with the army and take the opportunity to desert. Instead, he managed to escape and eventually got in to New York where he joined the 57th Regiment of Foot. This could be viewed as simple opportunism, but Derring gave a deposition to a court of inquiry in which he briefly described his experiences. It is clear from his story that his escape was no simple task, and only through amazing tenacity did he effect it completely and make his way into New York. His deposition reads:

John Derring late of the 47th Regt. of Foot & now drafted into the 57th Regt. says that he made his escape from Prospect hill barracks on the 1st. of March 1778, but was apprehended & put into Goal in Easton, where he lay 9 Months, and was then moved to Philadelphia Goal, where he was confined two Years and four Months, and then with 18 other British Soldiers broke out of Goal, by digging with no other instrument than their knives, this being the seventh time he had made the attempt & after being 21 days in irons in a [illeg] for making these attempts: that on the 29th of May 1782 he arrived at New York; he therefore claims his pay (one Guinea excepted, which he received in Philadelphia Goal) and cloathing (except two [illeg] from the time he made his escape from the 47th Regt. at Prospect Hill to his being drafted into the 57th Regt. vizt from the 1st of March 1778, to the 29th of May 1782

This story sounds remarkable but it was one of dozens of depositions given by British soldiers who had gone to considerable lengths and endured immeasurable risks to get from captivity back to the British army. Many more did so but left no depositions or other details of their efforts. All this in a country where they could easily melt into local populations, find work, and settle. Clearly they were highly motivated to return to the army and eventually to Great Britain. While we do not know their actual motives, it is certain that life in the army was not unbearable - Derring and hundreds of other soldiers who had many other choices nonetheless returned to the service.

The muster rolls of the 57th Regiment would tell what became of John Derring, but we have not had the opportunity to examine them. When he joined the regiment, Derring could not have known that they would be sent to Canada at the end of the war in late 1783. Whether Derring was offered a discharge from the army, or went on to Canada with many of his fellow career soldiers, is left for future research to determine.

18th Century military books and first-hand accounts of the American Revolution