Nova Scotia: The Lost Star and
Stripe
By
Anthony Taylor Dunn
In 1960, the American flag ended
its evolution to become how the world sees it today – thirteen horizontal,
alternating red and white stripes representing the original thirteen colonies,
and in the upper left corner against a blue background, fifty stars staggered in horizontal and
vertical rows symbolizing the fifty states of the union. However, if
one decisive battle at the beginning of the American Revolution had a different
outcome, there would be one additional star and stripe on the flag representing
the lost colony of Nova Scotia. The attempted siege of Fort Cumberland, which
lasted only one month at the end of 1776, could have changed American history
forever.
The fort lies on a ridge of
Canadian marshland facing the Bay of Fundy and marks the border between the
maritime providences of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. Originally built in 1751
by the French who named it Fort Beauséjour (which is now its present day name),
the fort fell to the British four years later in 1755 during the French and
Indian War and was renamed Fort Cumberland. The capture of the fort opened the
door to New Englanders who began settling in throughout Nova Scotia. Twenty
years later, events in 1775 set in motion the American Revolution: the
Continental Army was formed placing George Washington as commander-in-chief;
the first battles took place in Lexington and Concord; Fort Ticonderoga was
captured; Boston was under siege; Quebec fell to the patriots; and the British
armed schooner Margaretta was captured off Machias, Maine. In Nova
Scotia, these events aroused patriotic sympathies in many families, but the
majority of New Englanders who had moved there wished to escape political
upheaval and simply go about the business of farming. This political polarity -
those who were eager to join their patriot comrades in the great cause versus
those who chose to remain loyal to Britain - put an enormous strain on the two
sides eventually leading to civil war throughout the providence.
The primary commander of the
patriot force in Nova Scotia was Jonathan Eddy. A former British officer, he
possessed excellent leadership qualities and was a persuasive orator. He farmed
large parcel of land in Cumberland, an area that held the greatest
concentration of patriots. At the onset of the revolution, Eddy petitioned
Continental Congress to drive the British out of Nova Scotia, beginning with
Fort Cumberland because of its strategic location. Once the fort had fallen
into patriot hands, an army could sweep throughout the providence until it captured
Halifax. While Congress and George Washington were interested, they were
engrossed in military campaigns of greater importance and magnitude in other
locations. Soldiers, ships, and artillery were of limited supply.
The patriot military
headquarters was setup in Camphill, a small community on the Baie Verte Road
just one mile away from Fort Cumberland. The nearby farmhouse of Ebenezer
Gardner was the center for the Committee-of-Safety, the governing assembly of
political and military leaders. In essence, the Gardner farmhouse became the
Congressional Hall for revolutionary Nova Scotia. Ebenezer Gardner was born in
1735, and lived in Roxbury, Massachusetts. He worked as a potter by trade, and
in 1763, ten years after his father’s death, he sold his share of his father’s
property and moved to Aulac, Nova Scotia, at the age of twenty-eight to farm
and start a family.
Machias was the largest, coastal
privateer and patriot center above Boston at the time of the revolution. Eddy sailed
there and recruited twenty men that became the nucleus of his fighting force.
When he returned to Camphill, the force combined with Acadians and Indians of
various tribes growing to a total striking force of eighty men. The patriots used
a blockade as an initial strategy, and they successfully cut off food and
supplies from entering the fort as well as information from leaving.
The British commander of the
fort was Colonel Joseph Gorham. His militia consisted of 172 Royal Fencible
Americans who were enlisted loyalists under Gorham when he arrived from Boston.
As a matter of protection, the fort also housed loyalist families in the
immediate vicinity who were able to bear arms. Gorham had the surrounding walls
reinforced by a frieze-like barricade of fifteen-foot fence rails jutting out
from the fort’s walls. He also had large logs at the top of the parapet placed
and tied on rollers, and once the ropes were cut, the logs were designed to roll
down and instantly crush any invader below. Additionally, his men attached
bayonets to twelve-foot poles as an extra measure to prevent the walls from
being scaled.
Eddy knew that he was out-numbered,
but he attempted to bluff Gorham by stating he led a sizeable army. As was the
formality of eighteen-century etiquette, Eddy wrote and sent a courteous letter
to Gorham explaining that while he abhorred war, it was necessary to the
American cause, and further, that it was in his best interest to surrender to
the “States of America” and avoid bloodshed. Although Gorham was not certain of
the exact size of his force, he called Eddy’s bluff and had no intention of
surrendering his fort. In an equally courteous reply, he counter-demanded that
Eddy surrender his army in his Majesty’s name and mercy. These were the last
words between the two men.
On November 13, 1776, the small
ragtag army led by Jonathan Eddy proceeded towards the fort in the pre-dawn
morning. His strategy was threefold: the Acadians would provoke a diversionary
attack while another party would carry ladders to the walls. The plan also
called for a Maliseet Indian to sneak into the fort and unlock the main gate.
Once the gate was open, the full force of Eddy’s men would charge and overtake
the fort.
Unfortunately, the plan did not
go well. Gorham, being a shrewd military strategist, did not redeploy the bulk
of his troops in response to the perceived diversionary attack. While the
Maliseet Indian did manage to get into the fort, he was quickly spotted by a
fencible who hacked the Indian’s arm to the bone just as he was unlocking the
gate. Once Eddy’s main fusillade was detected, Gorham responded with a
deafening cannonade unleashed by three 9-pounders and three 6-pounders, the
largest cannons of the day. The battle was over in two hours as it became quite
obvious that Eddy’s men were significantly outnumbered and over-powered.
Fortunately, there were no sustained losses, but Eddy and his men had no choice
but to bitterly retreat.
Eddy’s army was soon growing
restless after their failed attempt to overtake the fort. The only strategy that
was working was the blockade – the fort inhabitants would have to eventually
surrender without food, supplies, and fuel to stay warm – but it was not
working fast enough. Without Continental troops and heavy guns, the only
remaining solution was to burn them out. The new plan was to set fire to the
dozen buildings clustered around the fort, and with the aid of a strong wind,
the fire would spread to the fort and ignite its wooden enforcements and
interior buildings. Just over a week from the first siege attempt, between the
hours of three and four o’clock in the morning of November 21, the second siege
against Fort Cumberland began. The veil
of darkness was broken by a red glow that rose from the buildings set on fire
by Eddy’s men. A strong wind carried burning embers over the wall and into the
fort. Well hidden in the darkness, Eddy’s men fired their muskets at the
fencibles whenever they showed themselves against the fire’s illumination. It
seemed as though this plan would finally succeed.
With the prospect of burning to
death or killed by the patriots, the frightened men and women inside the fort
worked together in amazing coordination and calmness. Bucket brigades put out
the worst fires and small ones were quickly stamped out. Once the original buildings
torched by the patriots burned down to coals and the wind diminished, further
threat to the fort was over and the red sky returned to darkness.
The patriots could not fight
against cannons and there was nothing left to burn – the fort could not be
conquered. Finally, when the British warship Vulture anchored offshore
bringing with it 160 fresh marines and supplies, the Nova Scotia rebellion was
over.
On the morning of November 29,
1776, 163 men equipped with flints, bayonets, and muskets left the fort and
made their way towards Camphill. Led by Major Thomas Batt of the Royal
Fencibles, they marched in silence save for the crunch of frozen marsh under
their feet. As they approached Camphill, the silence was broken by a startled
voice followed by the sound of running feet. They were discovered. The
fencibles shouted and charged like wild animals towards Eliphalet Read’s
farmhouse where Eddy was suspected to be sleeping. A black drummer boy inside
beat a drum awaking the patriot army, who began to fall out of the farmhouse
half-dressed and in a state of confusion. The men were taken by total surprise.
The farmhouse was pelted by a hailstorm of musketry, shattering the windows and
splintering the doorways. The Indians camped in the fields left behind their
teepees and smoldering fires as they ran off into the surrounding woods. First
a Micmac Indian was struck by a musket ball and fell dead to the ground, and
then a private in the patriot army. The other men returned fire over their
shoulders as they fled into the woods. Among these fleeing men was Jonathan
Eddy, who escaped capture with only seconds to spare. When the fencibles
entered the farmhouse, only the black drummer boy was found, evidently
abandoned by his comrades.
Ebenezer Gardner had narrowly
escaped the approaching mob. At the sound of gunfire at the Read farm, he was hastily
making the same preparations as his neighbors: throwing together a few
valuables in bundles and stacking them at the edge of the adjoining woods. He
managed to move some of his cows and oxen to the edge as well. When the
fencibles were seen in the distance coming down the road towards his farm,
Ebenezer and his wife, Damaris, dropped everything and ran out of the house
with their four young children. Susannah, the oldest at six, ran with four-
year-old Eunice, while two-year-old Hannah and one-year-old Eben Jr. were
clasped tightly in the arms of their parents. The family continued running into
the woods in terror, carrying their children and few possessions with the
cattle and oxen following behind. Because his house acquired such symbolic
importance as the seat of the patriot government, it had become an object of
hatred to both the British and the loyalists. Gardner’s house was the prime
target on this day of wrath, and Batt ordered without remorse that the house be
burnt to the ground.
The Gardner farmhouse,
originally singled out for the maximum penalty of burning, set the rampage
pattern. When the Camphill rout was over, twelve farmhouses and barns owned by
known and suspected patriots were set on fire. Often there were only seconds to
decide if a home was to be burned in the process of sorting out the loyalist
homes versus patriot. When it was uncertain, they erred on the side of
vengeance and set the house on fire. In most cases, the houses were plundered
and pillaged littering doorsteps with furniture and books before set on fire.
Livestock were rounded up and shot, granaries set on fire, and crops destroyed.
The rampage finally came to an end, not because of remorse or fatigue, but
simply because it was teatime.
It was raining when the soldiers
were finally given the order to return back to the fort. They slowly walked
past the burnt-out buildings, past the women and children digging through the
charred ruins of their former homes. The troops passed refugees lined up along
the road in the cold drizzle, and some had begun loading the dead onto ox
carts. For those who escaped beyond through woods spent a comfortless night
after a terrible day. Like other families, Ebenezer, Damaris, and their four
little children huddled together in the dark night, cold and hungry, as the
wind and rain tormented them. The remnants of Eddy’s army eventually departed
Nova Scotia in small groups back to Machias. It was rumored that Ebenezer and
his family rode upon the backs of their livestock through snow and bitter cold
on their three hundred mile exodus. Yet they survived the unimaginable hardship
of that journey, and arrived in Machias at the end of 1776. They went
immediately to work and constructed their second farmhouse to give them shelter
from the winter cold. Ebenezer continued to serve in the revolution as a
private under Benjamin Foster who was an instrumental figure during the capture
of the Margaretta the year before. Not only had Ebenezer’s family
survived the treacherous journey to Machias, it was later expanded to include
five more children: Samuel, Thomas, John, William, and Nathan. Ebenezer Gardner
lived to the extraordinary age of ninety-seven, and most likely he entertained
his children and grandchildren for hours, next to a warm fire and the dim glow
of candlelight, about the lost American colony of Nova Scotia.