The Depths of Valley Forge

Despite Washington's concerns about the looming clouds of the Conway Cabal, the winter of 1777-78 brought a problem that was even more menacing: his army was ill-fed and shabbily clothed as they prepared to move to their winter quarters. In November Washington wrote soberly, "There are now in this army...four thousand men wanting blankets, near two thousand of which have never had one, although some of them have been twelve months in service." 1 Another thousand men stumbled along without shoes.

These problems threatened disastrous consequences. As General Nathanael Greene wrote in distress, "I think I never saw the army so near dissolving since I have belonged to it." 2 Particularly alarming about the army's condition was the fact that these problems were not new. The army was continually undersupplied and ever on the verge of dissolution.

"I Searched for Water Till I Was Weary"

These were only the "beginning of sorrows." A month later, in mid-December, Washington marched with about ten thousand men into Valley Forge, Pennsylvania, to wait out the winter. In matter-of-fact language, a Connecticut private recorded the biting pain of that march to Valley Forge, a march that many made without shoes and all made with very little food:

The army was now not only starved but naked; the greatest part were not only shirtless and barefoot, but destitute of all other clothing, especially blankets. I procured a small piece of raw cowhide and made myself a pair of moccasins, which kept my feet (while they lasted) from the frozen ground, although, as I well remember, the hard edges so galled my ankles while on a march that it was with much difficulty and pain that I could wear them afterwards. But the only alternative I had was to endure this inconvenience or go barefoot, as hundreds of my companions had to, till they might be tracked by their blood upon the rough, frozen ground. But hunger, nakedness, and sore shins were not the only difficulties we had at that time to encounter; we had hard duty to perform and little or no strength to perform it with....

We arrived at the Valley Forge in the evening. It was dark, there was no water to be found, and I was perishing with thirst. I searched for water till I was weary, and came to my tent without finding any; fatigue and thirst, joined with hunger, almost made me desperate. I felt at that instant as if I would have taken victuals or drink from the best friend I had on earth by force.... Just after I arrived at my tent, two soldiers, whom I did not know, passed by. They had some water in their canteens which they told me they had found a good distance off, but could not direct me to the place, as it was very dark. I tried to beg a draft of water from them, but they were as rigid as Arabs. At length I persuaded them to sell me a drink for three pence, Pennsylvania currency, which was every cent of property I could then call my own, so great was the necessity I was then reduced to. 3

"The Army...Begins to Grow Sickly"

History has preserved other poignant, firsthand accounts of some of the valiant men who suffered through that wretched winter. Surgeon Albigence Waldo, for example, left us this pitiable record of the first days at Valley Forge. Sadly, conditions only worsened as the horrible days dragged on.

December 14-...The army, which has been surprisingly healthy hitherto, now begins to grow sickly from the continued fatigues they have suffered this campaign.... I am sick, discontented, and out of humor. Poor food, hard lodging, cold weather, fatigue, nasty clothes, nasty cookery, vomit half my time, smoked out of my senses-the devil's in it; I can't endure it. Why are we sent here to starve and freeze? What sweet felicities have I left at home: A charming wife, pretty children, good beds, good food, good cooking-all agreeable, all harmonious! Here all confusion, smoke and cold, hunger and filthiness-a pox on my bad luck! There comes a bowl of beef soup, full of burnt leaves and dirt, sickish enough to make a Hector spew-away with it, boys! I'll live like the chameleon upon air....

There comes a soldier: his bare feet are seen through his worn-out shoes, his legs nearly naked from the tattered remains of an only pair of stockings, his breeches not sufficient to cover his nakedness, his shirt hanging in strings, his hair dishevelled, his face meager. His whole appearance pictures a person forsaken and discouraged. He comes and cries with an air of wretchedness and despair, "I am sick, my feet lame, my legs are sore, my constitution is broken.... I fail fast; I shall soon be no more!"...

December 16-...For the first time since we have been here the tents were pitched, to keep the men more comfortable.

"Good morning, Brother Soldier," says one to another, "how are you?"

All wet I thank'e, hope you are so," says the other....

December-...A general cry through the camp this evening among the soldiers, "No meat! No meat!"...

What have you for your dinners, boys? "Nothing but fire cake and water, sir." At night: "Gentlemen, the supper is ready." What is your supper, lads? "Fire cake and water, sir."...

December 22-... What have you got for breakfast, lads? "Fire cake and water, sir." The Lord send that our Commissary of Purchases may live [on] fire cake and water till their glutted guts are turned to pasteboard.... But why do I talk of hunger and hard usage, when so many in the world have not even fire cake and water to eat? 4

No Clothes, No Shoes, No Blankets, No Shelter

The winter was well designed for a work of brutal destruction, nearly crushing the American army through intense starvation and cold. Washington grieved at the terrible hardship of his troops, but locating them at Valley Forge was a strategic necessity. Valley Forge, a wooded region south of the Schuylkill River, was only eighteen miles northwest of British-occupied Philadelphia. Washington was therefore close enough to keep an eye on the British while still being far enough to forestall a surprise attack. Furthermore, with the American army there, British raiding parties could not as easily rove about seeking food and supplies, nor could they make a major march of any kind. As for the security of the American forces, Washington knew his troops would be safe at Valley Forge: the windy hills of the area provided terrain that could easily be defended.

As they began their stay there, the men lived in cold, drafty tents. In the weeks that followed they gradually built huts, fourteen feet wide by sixteen feet long, each housing twelve men. The huts, ready by mid-January, were crowded-but the number of men in each one contributed much-welcomed body warmth.

Washington voiced high praise for his ragamuffin army when he wrote:

No history now extant can furnish an instance of an army's suffering such uncommon hardships as ours has done. To see men without clothes to cover their nakedness, without blankets to lie on, without shoes (for the want of which their marches might be traced by the blood from their feet), and almost as often without provisions as with them, marching through the frost and snow, and at Christmas taking up their winter quarters within a day's march from the enemy, without a house or hut to cover them till they could be built, and submitting to it without a murmur, is a proof of patience and obedience which in my opinion can scarce be paralleled. 5

As he moved among the suffering troops, Washington assured them that he himself would "share in the hardship and partake of every inconvenience." And knowing that great strength would come through unity and perseverance, he admonished "the officers and soldiers with one heart and one mind [to] resolve to surmount every difficulty with a fortitude and patience becoming their profession and the sacred cause in which they are engaged." 6

But he knew such admonitions were inadequate to meet the army's ultimate needs. Infinitely more important than wise counsel were physical warmth, food in the belly, trousers on shivering legs. Immediately after arriving at Valley Forge, Washington begged Congress to take action to relieve the army's horrible condition. "My feelings are every day wounded" by the army's dire situation, he wrote on December 22. 7

An Army "Made of Stocks and Stones"

The next day he warned that "unless some great and capital change suddenly takes place,...this army must inevitably be reduced to...starve, dissolve, or disperse in order to obtain subsistence in the best manner they can.... Three or four days' bad weather would prove our destruction." Nearly three thousand of his men were unfit for service because "they are barefoot and otherwise naked." Thoroughly disgruntled, he reported to Congress that he had ordered troops out to meet a British foraging party, and then learned they could not go because of inadequate supplies!

With growing indignation, he wrote that it was easy, while sitting in a "comfortable room by a good fireside," to imagine that the army was "made of stocks and stones and equally insensible of frost and snow." But Washington's sense of compassion made these circumstances almost beyond his capacity to endure. He wrote, "Although [many] seem to have little feeling for the naked and distressed soldier, I feel superabundantly for them, and from my soul pity those miseries which it is neither in my power to relieve or prevent." 8

Despite Washington's emotional appeals, Congress seemed totally powerless to take immediate action. Their hands were shackled by the defaulting states, many of which claimed they were drained by the war already. At the end of the year, Washington's summary of the army's condition was even darker than before. In righteous rage he spoke vehemently about "our sick naked, our well naked, our unfortunate men in captivity naked!" 9 Eventually some of the men's clothing grew so ragged that it literally fell off their gaunt bodies, leaving them with only a blanket to cover their nakedness. With no clothes to wear, the men were too embarrassed even to leave their quarters.

The trials continued well into February 1778. One officer wrote pitifully, "It would melt the heart of a savage to see the state we are in." 10

Martha Washington joined her husband at the Valley Forge encampment on February 10, following her usual custom of spending at least part of the winter season with the General. She was immediately struck with the terrible destitution of the soldiers and began to take steps to help them. One eyewitness recorded:

I never in my life knew a woman so busy from early morning until late at night as was Lady Washington, providing comforts for the sick soldiers. Every day, excepting Sunday, the wives of officers in camp, and sometimes other women, were invited to Mr. Potts' [where the Washingtons were staying] to assist her in knitting socks, patching garments, and making shirts for the poor soldiers, when materials could be procured. Every fair day she might be seen, with basket in hand and with a single attendant, going among the huts seeking the keenest and most needy sufferer, and giving all the comforts to them in her power. 11

During those months at Valley Forge, hundreds of horses died of starvation. (Despite their own destitution, the men could not bear to eat them. The rotting carcasses, which could not be buried in the frozen earth, contributed to the growing problem of disease.) More tragic, about twenty-five hundred troops-a full one-quarter of Washington's army-died of cold, starvation, and disease. Several thousand more deserted, some two thousand of which joined the British in order to secure the basic necessities of food and warm clothing which were virtually nonexistent in the American camp. Yet those who stayed gave new vitality to the American army. They knew they had looked death full in the face without quavering. Those who survived came out of the winter far stronger than they were when they went into it.

Emerging from the Winter

By spring, conditions had improved measurably. The frozen ground began to thaw. Drafty chinks in the roofs and walls of the men's huts leaked less with cold air. Clothing remained in short supply, but the need for warm, protective covering was not as great. And food became more abundant: each man received a daily allotment of a pound and a half of bread, a pound of meat or pork and beans, and a gill (just over a cup) of whiskey. In addition, the spring run of shad up the Schuylkill was so bountiful that men long accustomed to hunger gorged themselves, eating to satiety and then eating more. Hundreds of barrels of the succulent fish were salted for future use.

George Washington gratefully credited God with preserving the American army through the trials of such a devastating winter. Deep thanks, he wrote, are "due to the great Author of all the care and good that have been extended in relieving us in difficulties and distress." 12

Washington had pled repeatedly with that "great Author," seeking relief for his suffering men. Those prayers at Valley Forge, romantically preserved in art, have almost been given the status of legend. Yet the General really did pray during that dark winter. According to the record, two eyewitnesses (General Henry Knox and the man with whom Washington was quartered at Valley Forge, Isaac Potts) tell of the General retiring to a quiet grove where he could be alone to seek the help of God. 13

But this man of great faith was not motivated to pray at Valley Forge simply because of the horrors of that winter. Washington prayed at Valley Forge in large part because it was his habit to pray. As his grandson, George Washington Parke Custis, later wrote, "Throughout the war, as it was understood in his military family, he gave a part of every day to private prayer and devotion." 14 George Washington prayed from the time of his youth, and he apparently continued that practice throughout his life. 15 His prayers at Valley Forge, then, were but one strand in a lifetime of devotion.

One bright spot in Valley Forge's bleak winter was the welcome arrival of a crack drillmaster. About mid-February a stocky man rode into camp and announced himself as Lieutenant General Friedrich Wilhelm Ludolf Gerhard Augustin Baron von Steuben. Von Steuben had served in the Prussian army under Frederick the Great, and now he wished to join the Americans in their great cause of liberty. Though in reality he was neither a baron nor a lieutenant general, he soon proved to be a superb drillmaster who was adaptable to the needs of the Americans. During the spring of 1778 he taught the patriot troops how to march and maneuver in ranks, as well as how to effectively use their bayonets, a skill much needed against the British.

The colorful von Steuben spoke very little English, but the Americans learned well under his style of teaching. He began by teaching one hundred carefully picked men; he then used them to help him teach the new skills to additional groups. Under his tutelage, the American army began to discover for the first time how to beat the British at their own game. Largely because of von Steuben, the American troops finally became an army with the ability to fight as a cohesive unit.

This excerpt was taken from the book The Real George Washington .

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