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Yorktown Battlefield Historic Site: Vive la Yorktown!
It’s a cliche of course, but no less true, the statement by George Santayana, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”
I’m reminded of this for two reasons. First was a quote by Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney in last week’s Republican debate, “Our troops should not go off and fight a war of independence for another country.”
The second reason, is I just got back from a trip that included a visit to Yorktown Battlefield, part of the Colonial National Historical Park. Most Americans have heard of Yorktown, the place where the British surrendered to Washington and ended the American Revolution.
The past which Americans too often frequently forget in this case, is that the French were instrumental in the victory at Yorktown. In fact, there likely would never have been a battle at Yorktown, had not a French admiral made the decision to make his stand there.
France didn’t simply offer support to our cause. Rather they were partners, the first country to recognize the colonies as separate from England, a move which caused England to declare war on France. The French recognized in our cause and in our resolve, ideals worth fighting for, and were the first to recognize the distinct possiblility that we might actually win. I would also suppose that they knew it would get England’s goat was a bonus.
In 1780, 5,500 French soldiers landed in Rhode Island to assist their American allies in operations against British-controlled New York City. Following the arrival of dispatches from France that included the possibility of support from the French West Indies fleet of the Comte de Grasse, Washington and Rochambeau decided to ask de Grasse for assistance either in besieging New York, or in military operations against a British army operating in Virginia, under the command of Lord Cornwallis. DeGrasse chose the Chesapeake Bay, where Cornwallis had taken command of the army. Cornwallis, at first given confusing orders by his superior officer, Henry Clinton, was eventually ordered to make a defensible deep-water port, which he began to do at Yorktown, Virginia. Cornwallis’s movements in Virginia were shadowed by a Continental Army force led by the Marquis de Lafayette, another French man, sent south by Washington to harass the British and Loyalist forces there.
The additonal 6,000 French troops now in Rhode Island was a welcome addition for Washington, who had been playing a game of cat and mouse, (mainly mouse), with the British since the beginning of the war. Washington was of a mind to recapture New York City, but the French wanted to move the theatre of operations south. Due to recent success on the part of the colonials in South Carolina against both British and Loyalist troops, Cornwallis was stretched a bit thin. As a result, he was counting on reinforcements which were to come by sea, from a fleet direct by Sir Thomas Graves.
The American and French armies met in White Plains, north of New York City in the summer to debate where to strike. Washington kept pushing for New York City, even though Rochambeau and Washington’s own advisors were against it. Rochambeau refused to overrule Washington, insisting that he had come to serve, not to command. Then the missive from DeGrasse arrived, inviting Washington south for joint festivities against the British.
DeGrasse, the comander of the French fleet made the decision to take the action to Cornwallis in Virgina, and arrived in the Chesapeake Bay at the end of August, 1781, with additional troops, ships and 500,000 silver pesos offered by Spain from Havana, Cuba, to pay the troops and for the expenses of the operations. Spain also provided support for the French merchant ships in the Atlantic, which allowed DeGrasse to bring up his entire fleet, which he positioned for a blockade of Yorktown.

Now convinced that heading south south was the right plan of action, before leaving New York, Washington threw up earthworks, complete with large bread ovens, within site of New York City, to convince the British he was settling in for a long campaign. The ruse worked, and Washington and Rochambeau ducked south.
DeGrasse unloaded his 3,000 soldiers to join up with the Marquis de Lafayette at Williamsburg, Virgina, recently arrived with his 1,200 men, then went back to pick up Washington and Rochambeau’s troops, now heading south. Once in place, the allies had about 17,600 soldiers to pit against Cornwallis and his 8,300 British regulars and German Hessians. Fortunately, the British had been taken in by Washington’s fake lines around New York, and weren’t planning to head south till a desparate plea came from Cornwallis. In New York, General Clinton, Cornwallis’ superior replied that he would send 5,000 men from New York on October 5. When Cornwallis received the message, he knew his goose was cooked, as holding out that long would prove impossible.

The Visitor’s Center at Yorktown Battlefield, part of Colonial National Historical Park is located inside what was the British inner line. It was to this line, which skirts the Visitor’s Center that Cornwallis pulled his troops back upon the arrival of the allies. Washington and Rochambeau immediately took over the abandoned outer British defenses, and used them as a staging area to build their first row of trenches, which were then heavily fortified with Colonial and French guns. On October 9 they opened fire, bombarding the line and the town continuously and by October 11, the British guns had been more or less silenced.
This allowed the allies to build a second line, only 400 yards from the British, and when the sun rose on October 12, the British saw that they could now be fired upon by artillery from almost point blank range. Hampering the completion of this second line however, were two British forts, Redoubts 9 and 10. These two forts were captured on the night of October 14, with the French paying more in blood for control of Redoubts 10, than the Colonials did for Redoubts 9. With the forts captured, the line was completed and Cornwallis saw that to stay meant devastation. On the morning of the 16th, Cornwallis directed an attack on the French center of the allied line, which was easily repulsed, though it did give Cornwallis a reprieve from the bombardment for a few hours. That evening, he attempted to escape from Yorktown by ferrying his troops across the York River in small boats. But after the first wave of troops reached the opposite shore, a violent windstorm erupted and the operation had to be called off.
The British defences from the allies second line, Yorktown Battlefield, Yorktown, Virginia.
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Cornwallis and the British were now well and truly screwed, and he knew it. And so on October 17, a drummer and a British officer with a white flag appeared at the top of the trenches, to pass notes intended to open the way for a discussion about terms of surrender. On the 18th, the terms were hammered out at the Moore House, now restored and open to the public at Yorktown Battlefield. Then on October 19, the British marched down what is now known as Surrender Road, between rows of Colonial and French soldiers, and laid down their arms, effectively ending the American Revolution, and gaining independence for the 13 colonies.
The area encompassing Yorktown Battlefield is pretty extensive, and to walk to all the sites would easily require a full day. And so for those with a limited amount of time to visit, the driving tour is perhaps the best bet. Covering most of the high points of Yorktown Battlefield, the entire route can be visited in a couple of hours or so. For those with short attention spans or those incapable of looking over a landscape and imagining what took place, the visit is likely to be a disappointment. Yorktown wasn’t a battle filled with heroic charges and massed conflict. There was no colonial equivalent of Pickett’s Charge, and so the number of memorials present at Yorktown pale in comparison to a battlefield such as Gettysburg. There are a number of cannons still in place, in particular the Grand French Battery, and Surrender Field, where the British laid down their arms is unique among American Battlefields, in that the centerpiece of the park is a place of peace, not of war.
The village of Yorktown itself is well worth a walk, at least down its main street, still sporting several colonial-era buildings, some of which were instrumental in the history of the siege of Yorktown. Over 80% of the town’s buildings were destroyed in the occupation and siege, but enough remains to make Yorktown one of the more quaint colonial village in this country. You won’t find souvenir shops lining the street, and in fact, Yorktown is one of the best places I’ve been to wander freely and feel the ability to lose track of the present.
Which isn’t the case unfortunately with the rest of Yorktown Battlefield. Several busy roads cut across the park, and traffic, while not overly busy, is enough to make scurrying from location to location on the driving route a bit hair-raising at times. For those not interested in the driving tour, a stop at the Yorktown Visitor Center will likely do the trick. There’s an informative 15 minute film orientating you and bringing you up to date with the siege of Yorktown, a fairly interesting museum with several items directly related to the battle, and pretty decent shop with books on the southern campaigns, the Revolution in general, and other colonial related merchandise. To enter the historical buildings requires a pass, $10 per adult, good for seven days at both Yorktown and nearby Jamestown, home of the first permanent English settlement in North America.
In the end, the Colonials lost about 125 men, the French 253 and the British 552, killed, wounded and missing. About 8,000 were taken prisoner. Cornwallis reported to General Clinton in New York, “I have the mortification to inform your Excellency that I have been forced to give up the posts of York and Gloucester, and to surrender the troops under my command, by capitulation on the 19th instant, as prisoners of war to the combined forces of America and France.”
And so ended the last major engagement of the American Revolution. By then, after victories at Saratoga, Cowpens, Yorktown and others, the British realized that the Colonials were a force to be reckoned with. And perhaps most importantly, when combined with the French, and the stirrings of support from other European powers, the battle for control of the American colonies couldn’t be won.
Perhaps without French help, the Colonies might have been able to pull out a victory, but I doubt it. The colonies were broke, the army in tatters much of the time, and Britain was simply too strong. And anyway, it doesn’t matter. It’s fun to speculate when it comes to history, but the truth was, the French were there, and were instrumental in securing our independence. That’s something to keep in mind when participating in the curiously American pasttime of slagging the French. In fact, now that a large majority of Americans believe that the 2003 invasion of Iraq was, as the French tried to warn us, a mistake, it might be possible to once and for all put to rest the term Freedom Fries, and return the American chip to its former name – which after all is Thomas Jefferson’s work.
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Driving through a disappearing countryside in the midwest

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I’ve always felt a kind of freedom when I get out of town, off the highways and onto a gravel road, winding through the country. When you grow up close to the country, you always end up at one time or another out there, just wandering. Every house is a bit of history, some notorious but most just the remnants of generations past – people who lived good though often hard lives.
As a photographer, a road gives you an automatic focal point. And it’s very easy to return to the same places over and over again, in all seasons and all weather.
This fall a friend took me to where her grandparents used to live in the country. The house is gone – nothing left but memories. A ditch where kids used to play, an abandoned well, a tree left standing alongside the road – these are the mementos of lives long gone.
Time was, when feeding your family was the first priority, and selling what was leftover an added bonus. Now, when only the largest farms are capable of turning a profit, the farmhouse and the world that revolved around it is becoming a thing of the past. And much is being lost in the process.
As a teenager, the country was where you went when you wanted to escape – from school, parents, friends, police – and it’s also where you went to form relationships. In the town where I was born, there weren’t many places to just sit. And when you’re that age, there has to be a place where two people can figure it all out. We all had our version of Pooh’s thoughtful spot.
Fall in Rockefeller Preserve in Sleepy Hollow
Historic attractions, shipwrecks and solitude on Cape Cod

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Many things come to mind when you mention Cape Cod – JFK walking the beach at his summer White House at Hyannisport, a getaway for the well-to-do, the arts and alternative lifestyle of Provincetown. But an incredible amount of history has washed up on Cape Cod’s shores.
One of the largest barrier islands in the world and shaped like an arm flexing its bicep, Cape Cod protects much of the Massachusetts coastline from the unforgiving waves of the north Atlantic. Between Chatham and Provincetown, a distance of around fifty miles, over 1,000 wrecks are recorded, leading to its designation as an ocean graveyard.
The Sparrowhawk was the first recorded shipwreck on Cape Cod’s shores, back in,1626. That tale had a happy ending, with all the passengers reaching safety and the ship being repaired, only to sink again before it could be relaunched. Over the next few hundred years, shipwrecks became a form of income for the locals, salvaging the cargo, and sometimes the human cargo which washed ashore. Typically ships would flounder during storms however, and it was seldom that the hapless passengers reached the beaches of Cape Cod. As lifesaving techniques improved, when possible, lifesaving crews took specially equipped boats to ships in distress. When the surf made this impossible, they would attempt to fire a small cannon called a Lyle gun with a line attached to its shell to the ship. Sailors and passengers were then brought to shore in a basket above the waves. It was a dangerous task for those charged with saving lives as well, and their motto was “you have to go, but you don’t have to come back.”
Native Americans also were known to rescue stranded mariners, whose ships piled up on Cape Cod’s shore. The Wampanoag tribe has called Cape Cod home for many years, though they only received official recognition from the U.S. government in 2007. Originally numbering around 7,000 at the time of the pilgrim’s landing in Massachusetts, it was the Wampanoag you might remember, which helped them survive their earliest years on the new continent. The arrival of white people on the Cape had devastating consequences on the native American population, as the tribe was hit hard from Eurasian diseases for which they had no natural immunity.
And forget Plymouth Rock. The pilgrims made their first landing on these shores near Provincetown on November 11, 1620. It was there that the Mayflower Compact was drawn up, and a scouting party sent ashore to look for a suitable area for their colony. They encountered Indians near Eastham, and found no spot suitable for habitation, so once again the Mayflower set off, before finally settling on Plymouth.
And it’s believed that the pilgrims weren’t the first Europeans to come ashore on Cape Cod. There is evidence that the Promontory of Vinland mentioned by the Norse voyagers of 985-1025 was Cape Cod. Some believe that in 1006, Leif Ericson and his Vikings started a colony near Dennis. Archeological evidence has been found which might support the theory that it was here that the Norsemen built a form of dry dock to repair their ships. Whether the Vikings reached as far south as Cape Cod will probably never be known for certain however.
Henry Thoreau’s incredibly dry travelogue Cape Cod paints a picture of the area in the years 1849-1857. By then the land had been denuded of trees, and firewood had to be shipped in from Maine. The sand encroached on farm land and ground available for pasture, so much so that farming was abandoned on the Cape by the late nineteenth century, it’s inhabitants concentrating instead on the whaling and fishing industries.
By the end of the nineteenth century, tourism was coming to life on the Cape. Today it’s a major form of income for the locals, with much of the island’s commerce being shut down after the summer months. Which for me is the time to visit Cape Cod.
In late October and early November, you can feel the winter blowing in from the Atlantic winds, which while I was there never seemed to lie down, The colors were changing, far later than most of the rest of the northeast, and the sunsets were truly spectacular. You have the beaches to yourself, bed and breakfasts are off-season and you can get a sense of what Cape Cod was like before it became gentrified. Colonial era houses and buildings, as well as residences built for sea captains dot the landscape, and there are fewer roads which scream New England like Route 6A, which skirts serpent-like along the coast. It’s there in the solitude that the ghosts of Cape Cod speak to the traveller, of a time long gone but still out there. Below the sands and below the waves.














