Jane McCrea was killed and scalped by Native Americans near Fort Edward, New York, on July 27, 1777. The young woman, a British loyalist, was on her way to meet her fiancé, who served in General Burgoyne’s army. She walked into the middle of a skirmish between American forces and a band of Wyandot Indians the British had recruited to suppress the rebellion. Her death became one of the most famous incidents of the American Revolution.
It horrified the American public, enraged European observers, and helped galvanize support for the independence cause. Within weeks, her fate was tied to a series of bloody battles that would decide the war’s direction. Jane was engaged to David Jones, a loyalist officer serving under Burgoyne. She had dressed to meet him when she was captured along with other women and children near Fort Edward.
She was taken into the woods, where she was killed and scalped. The murder of an unarmed young bride-to-be by warriors fighting on behalf of the British Crown sparked outrage across the colonies and beyond. The story quickly spread throughout the country. It was repeated in councils, public meetings, and national assemblies until it became known across the continent.
It became the subject of songs and poems. The story crossed the Atlantic and was taken up by those who opposed the war. In the House of Commons, Edmund Burke, while denouncing the ministry for using Indians in the conflict against the colonies, repeated the story with all the passion and power that distinguished his fiery eloquence. The account spread further through France, Germany, Italy, and all European nations that recognized the rules of civilized warfare.
England was condemned everywhere for forging alliances with savages capable of committing such atrocious and cruel acts. Among patriots, the killing of the defenseless girl stirred indescribable indignation and strengthened the resolve to resist. General Gates took the first opportunity to write to Burgoyne about the incident. The British commander had complained about the harsh treatment of prisoners captured at Bennington and requested permission for a surgeon to visit the wounded.
Gates responded by accusing Burgoyne of hiring “monsters” to scalp Europeans and their descendants, noting that Jane McCrea, a beautiful and virtuous young woman engaged to an officer in Burgoyne’s army, had been taken from a house near Fort Edward, led into the woods, scalped, and her body horribly mangled. More than 100 men, women, and children had died at the hands of these wretches, Gates claimed. Historians point to the incident as one of the strong causes that stirred the people and drove them to hate and curse an army that agreed to work with such fierce auxiliaries. The patriots of the north had been dispirited by their failures.
Defeats had pursued them since the borders of Canada. The arrogant enemy had broken through the barriers in their way and overrun their beautiful lands. The massacre at Fort Edward awakened them from their slumber and helped inspire that stern determination that ultimately proved invincible. When the party returned to the American camp, Mrs.
McNeil identified the scalp and unleashed the harshest condemnations against the killers. Solomon, who was present, thought his brother did not yet know what had happened and hurried to find him to break the sad news. He found him alone in his tent, his head bowed resting on his hands. He called his name, but David did not answer.
When Solomon repeated the name, the lieutenant slowly raised his head and looked silently at his brother’s face. The terrible news had already reached him and withered his heart. Asked if David became loud in his grief when he saw Jenny’s scalp, the nephew who told the story said no. His uncle Solomon said David stared at it long and steadily, without speaking a word or answering when addressed, his mind seeming distracted and lost.
He was not himself. Eventually he recovered somewhat from the terrible shock, which for some time was feared would deprive him of his reason entirely. But from that hour, his whole nature seemed changed. Previously known for his love of social pleasures, he had been the soul of every friendly gathering.
Wherever he attended festivals and feasts, he filled the air with laughter and merriment. From that time on, he avoided celebrations and no longer mixed with scenes of joy, choosing instead to isolate himself in gloom and solitary suffering. From then until the end of his life, that man who had spent his youth laughing was never seen to smile again. He remained with the army until the surrender at Saratoga.
At the Battle of Bemis Heights, he showed complete disregard for danger, rushing into the heaviest perils as if determined to end his life. When the cause he had adopted was lost and all his fervent hopes of youth turned to ashes in his hands, he bid farewell to the places where he had suffered so much misery and left with his brothers for Canada. There he chose a secluded dwelling and spent the rest of his life in complete solitude. His friends were careful to avoid any mention of the Revolution’s events in his presence.
He would sometimes voluntarily recount the story of his painful misfortunes to his nephews and other relatives, but this was extremely rare. He never visited his old home on the Hudson River and never married. Every year, when July 27 arrived, that fateful day when the fortune of his life was shattered, he would lock himself in his room and refuse to see anyone. For twenty years he lived this unhappy life until his family, who had long looked with pity on his broken mind and crushed spirit, were called to lay his body to rest.
Before the Revolution, few families settled on the upper Hudson River exercised greater influence or possessed more extensive properties than the Jones family. Their real estate included a section of the country on which large and prosperous villages have since been built, which over time became invaluable. The vicissitudes of war drove them away from their inheritance. Their vast lands were confiscated, and among the later generations that inhabited them, few probably knew anything of the history of their former owners.
After following the gloomy story of David Jones to the end of his lonely life, the account returns to Jenny’s poor mutilated body. All night it remained in the same place where it had been laid. No one thought it wise to venture so far from the fort during the day following the massacre. At dawn the next day, a group of men was sent to search for it.
They found it stiff and horrifying, partially hidden under leaves and bushes, with the body of Van Vechten lying nearby. When they returned, Jane’s brother had arrived at the fort with some women from the neighborhood. He bent over her torn remains and wept bitterly from the depths of his soul. He knelt and kissed her blood-stained forehead and would have clasped her decaying body in his arms had not friends gently restrained him.
They led him away from the sad scene and sincerely tried to soothe him with many words of comfort that did no good. That morning the fort was evacuated. The retreating American forces were preceded by a small detachment carrying the bodies of the dead. The group stopped three miles south of Fort Edward, on the bank of a small stream that flows into the Hudson River.
Here, in a modest grave, they laid Jenny to her final rest. Strong men wept aloud as they left that humble burial place to continue their way. The excitement following these events prompted General Burgoyne to open an investigation. The matter had taken on a serious character that could not be ignored.
He gathered the Indians in council at Fort Anne and, after reminding them of his instructions at the great war feast, demanded the surrender of the killer, declaring that he must die. A warrior called Le Loup was handed over, and for a time it was decided to carry out the death sentence. But he was ultimately pardoned, on condition that the savages refrain from further atrocities and keep their previous promises. Le Loup’s influence and standing among the tribes may have been one reason for this unjust pardon.
Moreover, Burgoyne pretended to believe, and perhaps really thought, that he was not authorized under English law to impose the death penalty on the killer. This unwise mercy soon rebounded against the British general. After being prevented from satisfying their bloodthirsty appetites, many of the Indians abandoned the army and returned to their own country, plundering and robbing along the way. The royal army moved toward Fort Edward and took possession of that post on July 30.
Upon reaching the Hudson River, the English were seized with a fit of overwhelming joy. It was the point they had long looked forward to with the utmost eagerness. They had finally reached it after long suffering and incredible hardships. They deluded themselves with the illusion that rapid victory was no longer escaping their grasp.
They did not realize how quickly their brilliant hopes would turn to anxiety, confusion, and the bitterness of defeat. They remained there until August 15, working hard to transport supplies from the head of Lake George to the navigable parts of the Hudson River. From there, Burgoyne also sent the expedition to Bennington, the most important incident in the history of that military campaign. That expedition was a prelude to the surrender at Saratoga.
It settled the question of the treatment of prisoners and may be said to have secured the independence of the country. General Stark’s victory over Baum at Bennington was the first wave of good fortune for the Americans that eventually overwhelmed Burgoyne and his entire army. Colonel St. Leger had cut his way through Oswego and Oneida Lake and was now encamped before the walls of Fort Schuyler on August 3.
It was said that when they parted in Canada, there was an agreement between St. Leger and Burgoyne that they would descend the Mohawk and Hudson Rivers simultaneously at the head of their forces and meet near Albany. Thomas Spencer, an Oneida chief, revealed this plan of operations to the Americans after obtaining it from Daniel Claus, the son-in-law of Sir William Johnson. Armed with knowledge of the enemy’s general designs, the Americans had time to fortify Fort Schuyler, or as it is often called Fort Stanwix, more skillfully and defend it more successfully than St.
Leger expected. When St. Leger arrived, the fort was occupied by the regiments of Colonels Gansevoort and Willett, joined that same day by 200 men under Lieutenant Colonel Mellon. Meanwhile, General Herkimer had assembled the militia of Tryon County and was marching to relieve the garrison.
After reaching the mouth of Oriskany Creek, he sent a messenger to inform Colonel Gansevoort of his approach. Before the messenger arrived, St. Leger had learned of Herkimer’s advance and sent a party of Indians and rangers under Butler and Brant, along with a detachment of Johnson’s Greens under Major Watts, to intercept him. They hid in ambush within a deep ravine, which the Americans entered without suspicion of the enemy, followed by their baggage wagons.
At a signal from Brant, war cries rang out and the Americans found themselves suddenly surrounded by a host of savages who seemed to spring from the ground. A battle followed that lasted six hours, described as the bloodiest engagement for the number of participants during the war. During a brief pause in the storm, gunfire was heard from the direction of the fort. The Americans immediately understood its significance and resumed fighting with renewed energy.
It confirmed that the messenger had arrived and that the attack Herkimer had recommended was underway. This was indeed the case. Once arrangements were made after the messenger’s arrival, Colonel Marinus Willett went out at the head of a detachment and attacked the camp occupied by Sir John Johnson and his Royal Greens. The attack was so sudden that Sir John could not organize his troops, who fled in panic across the river.
The Indians were also seized with panic and fled into the surrounding woods. Meanwhile, the Battle of Oriskany raged with fury. Eventually, the Indians found their ranks dwindling rapidly and sounded their retreat signals, pursued by Herkimer’s forces amid shouts of victory. Despite these results, the siege of Fort Schuyler was so tight that Colonel Gansevoort could not obtain accurate information about the outcome of the battles.
St. Leger forced Colonel Bellinger and Major Frey, who had been taken prisoner, to address a letter to Gansevoort full of deliberate falsehoods, and the next morning demanded the immediate surrender of the fort, gravely assuring him that the Americans had been crushed at Oriskany and that Burgoyne controlled Albany. The unmoved commander immediately rejected the request, expressing his firm determination to defend the post to the last. The siege continued with strength and intensity.
Ammunition and supplies in the fort were rapidly dwindling, and some openly hinted that surrender was inevitable. Under these circumstances, the garrison was astonished to see on the morning of August 22 the enemy breaking camp and fleeing with such haste that they left their tents, artillery, and camp equipment behind. The cause of this mysterious movement was soon explained. Arnold, at the mouth of the Mohawk River, had been sent by Schuyler to relieve Fort Stanwix.
Realizing his limited forces were insufficient for a direct engagement, he devised a stratagem while resting at Fort Dayton that succeeded remarkably. Among the loyalist prisoners at that post was a man named Hugh Yost Schuyler, who had been arrested as a spy and sentenced to death. His mother and brother, who lived at Little Falls, rushed to Fort Dayton and begged Arnold to spare his life. The request was granted on condition that he infiltrate St.
Leger’s camp and frighten the Indians by announcing that a mighty army was marching toward them. The condition was accepted, and his brother was held as a hostage to guarantee his loyalty. The cunning loyalist set out for Fort Schuyler and on the way met an Oneida Indian who readily joined him in the mission. Hugh Yost entered St.
Leger’s camp in a state of great agitation, his coat pierced in several places, announcing the approach of a vast army led by the fearsome Arnold, and pointing to his torn clothing, insisting he had escaped destruction by a true miracle. The Indians gathered around him and looked at each other in astonishment and terror at the mention of Arnold’s dreaded name. Later, according to the agreement, the Oneida appeared among them, confirming the reports even more convincingly. He added that Burgoyne and all his forces had been captured, a claim readily believed given that vague rumors of defeats at Bennington had already arrived.
He described the approaching crowds as more numerous than the leaves of the trees. An uncontrollable panic seized the Indians, and they decided to flee. Neither threats nor promises could persuade them to stay. Panic spread throughout the camp, and soon the entire besieging army was in confused retreat.
The scattered remnants of his forces, hungry and half-naked, gathered at Oswego, and from there accompanied St. Leger back to Canada. The shock of the defeat at Bennington was soon followed by news of the failure of St. Leger’s expedition.
Burgoyne began to realize that his position had become extremely critical. While these disasters drove hesitant loyalists away from him, hundreds of patriots were flocking to the American camp. A large force of militia under General Lincoln had penetrated the country through Manchester and Pawlet, positioned in the rear of his forces. Gates, who had unjustly replaced Schuyler, was positioned with the main army at Van Schaick’s Island, from where he moved up the river to Bemis Heights.
Despite the difficulties multiplying around him, Burgoyne remained fixed on his objective. The disasters that befell him did not produce any desire to abandon the mission. Accordingly, he marched along the east bank of the Hudson to Batten Kill, where he crossed the river on September 13 and 14, and camped on the plain of Saratoga, determined to decide the fate of the campaign in a full battle. By the morning of the 18th, he had moved to within two miles of the American camp, where he stopped and prepared for battle.
The morning of September 19, 1777 finally dawned, clear and cold, a harbinger of the day destined to determine America’s fate. At ten o’clock, the British army moved, with Burgoyne in the center, flanked on the left by Phillips and Riedesel, and on the right by Frazer and Breyman. Around noon, Colonel Morgan and Major Dearborn went out to attack the Canadians and Indians positioned on the hills. At the same time, a sharp skirmish broke out between American guards and a party of loyalists and savages in the lowlands bordering the river.
Meanwhile, Arnold and Frazer met on the plain above, contesting the ground inch by inch, with both sides displaying acts of desperate valor. At three o’clock, there was a brief cessation of hostilities. Each army paused to catch its breath, seizing a moment to gather their exhausted strength. They were so close they could hear orders being passed along their military lines.
The fighting resumed, and like the flow of the tide, the long battle line swayed back and forth until darkness fell on the scene, when the exhausted patriots withdrew from their lines while the British lay holding their weapons. It was an American victory in every respect, and justice requires an impartial historian to record the facts that the credit was due mainly to the efforts of the brave Benedict Arnold, who, despite his later treason, unjustified by any claim of grievance or neglect, was as brave a man as any who fought in the ranks of liberty. The enemy had spent the night on the field, and on the morning of the 20th, surprised by the bold resistance of the patriots and realizing the futility of attempting to storm their fortifications, decided to strengthen his position and await the cooperation of Sir Henry Clinton. From that time until October 7, the two contending parties remained within range of each other’s cannons.
Meanwhile, the American force was steadily increasing while the British force diminished day by day. The Indians, disappointed in their hopes of plunder and remembering that hunting season had arrived, suddenly became anxious about the welfare of those they had left in their tents and fled in droves. Finally, the enemy found itself despairing of help from Clinton, its supplies tied up, entangled in a web of dangers, driven to the necessity of a humiliating retreat or risking another conflict. The latter option was chosen.
So on October 7, a group of Canadians and loyalists attacked the American guards, joined by reinforcements, pushing the patriots before them until Morgan’s riflemen stopped them after a hot half-hour battle. Burgoyne had meanwhile arranged his army in the following formation. The light infantry under the Earl of Balcarres was placed on the far right. The artillery and grenadiers, under Major Williams and Major Ackland, were placed on the left.
The Hessians, with a detachment of British troops, occupied the center under Phillips and Riedesel. General Frazer, with a chosen group of men, was positioned in front of the western end of the right wing, with instructions to attack the enemy’s flank and rear as soon as the attack began from the front. The British movements were observed, and to counter them, it was decided that the brigades of Generals Poor and Learned should attack the artillery and grenadiers who formed Burgoyne’s left wing. Meanwhile, Morgan’s riflemen, instructed to march under the cover of the woods and by a circuitous route, were to take position on the flank of Frazer’s division and attack those troops at the same time.
At half past two in the afternoon, General Poor organized his men, ordered them to hold their fire until they descended the hill where the artillery and grenadiers were positioned, and they advanced steadily and silently toward the attack. The men obeyed orders, moving rigidly forward while grapeshot and musket balls passed harmlessly over their heads, wreaking havoc on the tree branches. Finally, the signal for the attack was given. The signal was answered with a shout, and the violent force displayed by the Americans caused the grenadiers to retreat within 30 minutes, leaving their commander seriously wounded and the ground covered with their dead and wounded.
Morgan’s riflemen had reached their desired position on the western heights. With the first sound of battle, they swooped down like an avalanche on the advancing force led by Frazer, and after driving them before them, quickly turned left, attacking the British right wing with unexpected and irresistible energy, throwing it into sudden and complete confusion. At that moment, Dearborn attacked the enemy from the front with fresh troops. The entire right wing fell back and began to flee the field, but the Earl of Balcarres succeeded in rallying them and bringing them back into the fight.
As a result of earlier difficulties, which many believed arose from personal jealousy, Arnold had been stripped of his command. On this day, he was even denied the privilege of participating in any form in the battle. Nevertheless, he followed with intense interest every moment of the movements of the opposing armies. His spirit yearned to join the fight.
Finally, when he saw the enemy returning after their temporary flight, his restless soul could no longer remain under control. He mounted his horse and rushed to the field, and as soon as he placed himself at the head of part of his old division, he was greeted with enthusiastic cheers. Gates sent Major Armstrong to order him back. But the angry general soon placed himself in a position where it was dangerous to follow him.
At the head of his men, he charged madly toward the Hessians, wildly waving his sword above his head, seeking danger wherever it was most intense. The battle was now general. Frazer was the driving spirit on the British side. He restored order amid chaos and instilled courage into his wavering troops.
He rode a magnificent gray horse in full military dress, visible everywhere. Morgan realized the fate of the battle depended on him. He called a group of his men and, pointing toward the doomed general, said: “I admire and respect him, but it is necessary that he die. ” Within 5 minutes, Frazer fell from his warhorse, carried to camp mortally wounded.
Burgoyne took command himself, but the panic that spread along the line at Frazer’s fall was compounded by the arrival of Ten Broeck with a large force of New York troops, and he could no longer keep pace with the declining morale of his men. They fled in haste, pursued by the Americans in their noisy retreat to their fortifications. Meanwhile, Arnold was the controlling spirit on the field. From amid the smoke and flame, his loud voice was heard encouraging the soldiers, and he was at the heart of danger wherever it was most terrible.
At the head of a brave detachment, he charged into the Earl of Balcarres’ camp, broke through the bayonets that confronted him, and continued through a hail of bullets to where the Germans were entrenched. This bold act ended the conflict. The Hessians, terrified by his approach, fired a volley that killed his horse and severely wounded him in the leg, then retreated in fear. At dusk, after the battle was decided, Major Armstrong found Arnold at the camp exit, lying wounded and helpless beside his dead horse, and delivered Gates’ order for him to return to camp, lest he act recklessly.
During the night, the British abandoned their camp, which the Americans occupied in the morning. General Frazer, whose wound proved fatal, was buried at six o’clock on the evening of the 8th atop a high hill, fulfilling his last wish. Hundreds from both armies witnessed the funeral ceremony. The Americans were not aware of what was happening and initially continued bombarding the fortifications with cannons.
Once they confirmed that the solemn procession ascending the hill was laying Frazer’s remains to rest, the scene was moving, as Burgoyne described it. The continuous bombardment during the ceremony, the chaplain’s steady stance and unchanging voice as he performed his rites, covered in the dust of explosions flying around him from all sides, and the mixture of silence and expressions of sorrow and resentment on every face were scenes that would remain etched in the memory of all who attended for the rest of their lives. The deepening darkness added a touch that made it one of the most striking subjects a painter could depict from the battlefields. As soon as Frazer’s burial ceremony ended, under cover of night and amid a bitterly cold storm, Burgoyne began his retreat and reached Saratoga, now known as Schuylerville, on the evening of the 9th.
His intention was to cross the river at that point, but Gates had anticipated him by placing a large force on the opposite bank. He then decided to proceed to Fort Edward and from that point cross the Hudson and seize the fort. However, the advanced force he sent found the fortifications under American control and was forced to return to camp. The unfortunate general now found himself completely surrounded.
The main American force was positioned to the south, while Morgan and his division were in the rear. Fellows and his 3,000 men occupied the far bank directly in front of him, while numerous small detachments of militia and volunteers watched his movements from every side. A more discouraging and desperate situation can hardly be imagined. They were exposed to constant fire.
Canadians and loyalists were fleeing their ranks. There was no longer any safe place for the sick or for the wives and children of officers. No word came from Clinton. Only women dared venture to the river to fetch water.
They had no more than four days of provisions and not the slightest chance of obtaining more. Exhausted by fatigue and suffering, gnawed by hunger, tormented by thirst, and threatened with imminent and inevitable destruction, the last spark of hope finally died out. The haughty spirit of the proud Briton was forced to bow. On the 13th, during a general council of officers, it was decided to inform General Gates of a proposal to surrender.
On the 17th, the defeated army left its positions on the heights and marched in disgrace to the riverbank, where they laid down their arms. That same evening, the English and Hessians set out on their journey across the country to Massachusetts Bay as stipulated in the fourth article of the surrender convention. The remaining Indians, the remnants of Burgoyne’s original forces, were placed under strict guard for their protection and security. Without this precautionary measure, they would have fallen victim to the angry militia.
For, as the campaign historian says, the murder of Jane McCrea had hardened every heart against them and prevented any plea for mercy on their behalf. Thus ended a campaign that cost Great Britain an immense fortune, which the enemies of liberty confidently expected would crush every part of America. For half a century, Jane’s bones remained undisturbed in her modest grave on the banks of the Hudson River. At the end of that period, they were exhumed and followed by a long procession, carried with solemn pomp to the burial ground of Fort Edward village.
Near the ruins of the old fort, in the presence of young men and women and a large crowd drawn by the unusual ceremony, she was placed beside the remains of her old friend, Mrs. McNeil. The Reverend Hooper Cummings of Albany, one of the most eloquent speakers of his time, delivered a funeral oration, and all the people of Fort Edward wept as he recounted in a moving and painful manner the story of her sad life. But her remains were not destined to rest there forever.
In 1852, they were moved to the beautiful cemetery atop the hill, where the clear waters of the spring still flow at its base among the decaying roots of the old pine. There, near the spot where her young life was brutally extinguished, and where a second generation of pines casts its shadows over the graves of a later generation, she now rests. Above that humble handful of earth, loved ones erected an elegant monument, inscribed with her name and age, the time and manner of her death, and beneath it: “In memory of one of the most striking events of the American Revolution, and in justice to the memory of the brave British officer to whom she was betrothed, and as a simple tribute to the memory of the deceased, this stone was erected by her niece. ”
Americans and Europeans alike did not look with satisfaction upon Britain after hearing that the Indians hired as mercenaries had killed Jane McCrea and the Allen family, all of whom were loyalists.
These events inspired France to join the revolution on the side of the Americans. They were embittered by their loss in the French and Indian War, and these events gave them the opportunity to retaliate against Britain for their previous defeats. The Marquis de Lafayette, aged 20, sailed from France to America in 1777. Just four days after Jane’s death, on July 31, Congress appointed him a major general.
France formally formed an alliance with the United States on February 6, 1778, and officially declared war on Britain in June of that year. The Battle of Oriskany, which took place on August 6, 1777, is called the bloodiest battle of the Revolution. A total of 385 American soldiers were killed compared to just seven loyalists. It was a low point for the patriot cause, but the tide would turn 10 days later on August 16 when Britain was defeated at Bennington.
In that battle, 207 British were killed compared to only 30 Americans. Interestingly, David Jones never appears to have attempted revenge against Le Loup or other Indians for killing his fiancée. He mourned her death for the rest of his life, but he did not seem to become like others who vowed vengeance against the Indians who killed their family members.
Jones had at least five brothers, but there appears to have been no effort to form a party and track down the Indian who scalped Jane.