On July 27, 1777, near Fort Edward, New York, Jenny McCrea was killed and scalped by Indians allied with the British. She was a loyalist, traveling to meet her fiancé, a young officer serving in General Burgoyne’s army, when she crossed the path of a skirmish between American forces and a party of Wyandot warriors the British had recruited to suppress the rebellion. Her death, and the way it was used by both sides, would become one of the most powerful propaganda tools of the American Revolution, inflaming patriotic sentiment and helping to bring France into the war. The story of the tragedy spread rapidly across the colonies.

In every council, public meeting, and gathering, the tale of Jenny McCrea was repeated until it became known throughout the continent. She became the subject of songs and poems. The story crossed the Atlantic, where it was seized upon by opponents of the war in England. In the House of Commons, Edmund Burke, denouncing the ministry for employing Indians against the colonies, retold the story with all the passion of his fiery eloquence.

It spread further into France, Germany, Italy, and across Europe. The inhumanity of England, in forming alliances with savages capable of such acts, was condemned everywhere. Among the patriots, the killing of the defenseless girl stirred an indignation that could hardly be described. It was, as one contemporary wrote, particularly suited to rouse the minds of men to resistance and revenge.

General Gates, who had just taken command of the American army, seized the opportunity to write to Burgoyne. His letter was described as more ornate than strong, but it served its purpose. Burgoyne had complained about the treatment of prisoners taken at Bennington and requested that a surgeon be allowed to visit the wounded. Gates responded by denouncing the use of Indians, pointing to the murder of Jenny McCrea as proof of British barbarism.

He recounted how a young woman of virtuous character, engaged to an officer in Burgoyne’s army, had been taken from a house near Fort Edward, carried into the woods, and scalped in the most horrid manner. He added that over a hundred men, women, and children had been murdered by these wretches. The letter achieved its intended effect, inflaming public opinion against the British commander. The patriots of the north had been disheartened by a series of defeats since the borders of Canada.

The arrogant enemy had broken through their defenses and overrun their countryside. The massacre at Fort Edward awakened them from their despair and helped inspire the resolve that would prove unconquerable. In the words of one observer, providence seemed to have chosen the bride on the banks of the Hudson as a sacrifice to revive the spirit of liberty. As for the man most affected, David Jones learned of his fiancée’s fate when the scalping party returned.

His brother Solomon, who had been present at the identification of the scalp, hurried to find him. He found him alone in his tent, his head bowed in his hands. When Solomon called his name, the lieutenant slowly raised his head and looked silently at his brother’s face. It was clear that the terrible news had already reached him.

He did not rant or rave. He stared at the scalp for a long time without speaking a word. It was feared for a while that his mind would give way entirely. From that hour, his whole nature seemed changed.

He had once been known for his love of social pleasures, the life of every gathering. Afterward, he avoided all celebrations and chose to dwell in lonely misery. Until the end of his life, the 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 a complete disregard for danger, throwing himself into the thickest peril as if determined to end his life. When the cause he had adopted was lost and his hopes turned to ashes, he left with his brothers for Canada, where he chose a secluded dwelling and spent the rest of his life in total solitude. His friends were careful to avoid any mention of the revolution in his presence. He never visited his old home on the Hudson and never married.

Every year on the twenty-seventh of July, the day his fortunes were shattered, he shut himself in his room and refused to see anyone. For twenty years he lived this unhappy life until his family, who had long looked with pity upon his broken mind, buried him. The body of Jenny McCrea lay where it had fallen throughout the night. No one dared venture so far from the fort during the day after the massacre.

At dawn, a party of men was sent to retrieve it. They found her body frozen and horribly mutilated, partially hidden under leaves and brush, with the body of a man nearby. When they returned, her brother had arrived at the fort. He bent over her remains and wept bitterly, kneeling to kiss her blood-stained forehead.

He tried to embrace her body until his friends gently restrained him. That morning the fort was evacuated. The retreating American troops carried the dead with them. Three miles south of Fort Edward, on the bank of a small stream, they placed Jenny in a humble grave.

Hardened men wept aloud as they turned away. The excitement following these events compelled General Burgoyne to investigate. He called the Indians together at Fort Anne and demanded the surrender of the killer, declaring he must die. A warrior was handed over, and for a time execution seemed certain.

But he was eventually pardoned, on the condition that the savages abstain from further atrocities. Burgoyne may have believed he was not authorized to impose the death penalty. This unwise mercy soon turned against him. Prevented from satisfying their bloodlust, many of the Indians deserted the army and returned home, plundering as they went.

The royal army moved toward Fort Edward and occupied it on July 30. When they reached the Hudson, the British were overcome with joy. It was the point they had long fixed their hopes upon. But their triumph was short-lived.

They remained there until August 15, laboring to move supplies, and from there Burgoyne dispatched the expedition to Bennington, the most important event in the history of that campaign. Bennington was the first wave of returning fortune for the Americans, which eventually overwhelmed Burgoyne and his entire army. Meanwhile, Colonel St. Leger had cut his way through Oswego and Lake Oneida, camping before Fort Schuyler on August 3.

The plan, revealed to the Americans by an Oneida chief, was for St. Leger and Burgoyne to descend the Mohawk and Hudson rivers simultaneously and meet near Albany. Forewarned, the Americans had time to fortify the fort more skillfully. When St.

Leger arrived, the garrison was held by the regiments of Colonels Gansevoort and Willett, joined by two hundred men under Lieutenant Colonel Mellon. General Herkimer had called out the militia of Tryon County and was marching to relieve the fort. St. Leger learned of Herkimer’s approach and sent a force of Indians and rangers under Butler and Brant to intercept him.

They laid an ambush in a deep ravine. The Americans entered unsuspectingly, followed by their baggage wagons. At a signal, war cries rang out, and the Americans found themselves surrounded by what seemed like an army of savages who had sprung from the earth. A battle raged for six hours, described as the bloodiest engagement relative to the number of participants in the war.

During a brief pause, gunfire was heard from the direction of the fort. The Americans resumed the fight with renewed energy, realizing the garrison was making a sortie. Colonel Marinus Willett had indeed led a detachment that attacked the camp of Sir John Johnson and his Royal Greens. The attack was so sudden that Johnson’s forces fled in panic across the river, and the Indians scattered into the woods.

At Oriskany, the Indians, finding their ranks thinning rapidly, sounded the retreat. Despite this setback, the siege of Fort Schuyler remained tight. St. Leger forced captured officers to write letters full of deliberate falsehoods, claiming the Americans had been crushed at Oriskany and that Burgoyne held Albany.

The commander refused to surrender. The siege continued, and provisions grew scarce. The garrison was astonished on the morning of August 22 to see the enemy break camp and flee in such haste that they left their tents, artillery, and camp equipment behind. The cause of this sudden departure was Benedict Arnold.

Sent to relieve Fort Stanwix, he devised a ruse. A loyalist prisoner named Hugh Yost Schuyler was granted his life on the condition that he infiltrate St. Leger’s camp and frighten the Indians by announcing that a mighty army was approaching. His brother was held as a hostage.

Yost entered the camp in great agitation, his coat pierced in several places, declaring that he had narrowly escaped a great army under the dreaded Arnold. An Oneida appeared and confirmed the story, adding that Burgoyne and all his forces had been captured. Panic seized the Indians, and they refused to stay. The entire besieging army fell into disorderly retreat, eventually straggling back to Canada.

The news of the failure of St. Leger’s expedition followed the shock of Bennington. Burgoyne began to realize his position was critical. Hundreds of patriots flocked to the American camp.

A large force of militia under General Lincoln had penetrated into the country behind him. Gates, who had unjustly replaced Schuyler, was encamped with the main army, and soon moved up the river to Bemis Heights. Despite the mounting difficulties, Burgoyne remained fixed on his purpose. He crossed the Hudson on September 13 and 14, camping on the plain of Saratoga, determined to decide the campaign in a general battle.

On the morning of September 19, the British army moved. Around noon, Colonel Morgan and Major Dearborn attacked the Canadians and Indians on the hills. A sharp skirmish broke out. Arnold and the British general Fraser met on the plain, disputing the ground inch by inch.

At three o’clock, the firing ceased briefly, and both armies rested. They were so close they could hear the orders being passed through the enemy lines. Fighting resumed, and the battle line swayed back and forth until darkness fell. The exhausted Americans withdrew, while the British lay down holding their weapons.

It was an American victory, and impartial historians credited it mainly to the courageous efforts of Benedict Arnold, who, despite his later treason, had fought with distinction. For two weeks the armies remained within range of each other’s guns. The American force grew daily while the British dwindled. The Indians, disappointed for plunder and remembering the hunting season, fled in groups.

By October 7, Burgoyne had lost hope of help from Clinton. His supplies were failing. He decided to risk another engagement. The British advanced, with Fraser commanding a select force ordered to attack the enemy’s flank and rear.

Arnold, stripped of his command due to earlier disputes, remained in camp. But as the battle grew intense and he watched the enemy rally, he could no longer contain himself. He mounted his horse and rode into the field, greeted by cheers from his old troops. Major Armstrong was sent to order him back, but Arnold placed himself in a position too dangerous to be followed.

At the head of his men, he charged into the Hessians, brandishing his sword and seeking the fiercest danger. Fraser was the soul of the British resistance. Morgan recognized that the battle depended on him. Pointing to the doomed general, he told a group of his sharpshooters that it was necessary he die.

Within five minutes, Fraser fell from his warhorse, mortally wounded. Panic spread along the British line, compounded by the arrival of General Ten Broeck with a large reinforcement of New York troops. The British fled in haste, pursued by the Americans. Arnold was the controlling spirit of the field.

At the head of a bold detachment, he charged into the camp of the Earl of Balcarres, broke the bayonets that met him, and pushed through a storm of bullets to where the Germans were fortified. The Hessians, terrified by his approach, fired a volley that killed his horse and wounded him severely in the leg. At dusk, Major Armstrong found Arnold lying wounded and helpless beside his dead horse. During the night, the British abandoned their camp.

Fraser, who had died of his wound, was buried on October 8 on a high hill, in accordance with his last wish. The Americans, not knowing what was happening, at first continued to bombard the redoubts. When they realized the solemn procession was burying Fraser, the scene grew still. Burgoyne described the constant cannonade during the service, the unmoved chaplain performing his rites while covered in dust from the shells, and the mixture of silence and sorrow on every face.

Burgoyne began his retreat in a violent storm and reached Saratoga on the evening of October 9. He intended to cross the river, but Gates had placed a large force on the opposite bank. He decided to push on to Fort Edward, but the advanced party found the forts in American hands. Burgoyne was now completely surrounded.

The main American army was to the south, Morgan and his corps in the rear, and Fellows with three thousand men on the far bank. Small parties of militia watched his movements on every side. There was no safe place even for the sick or the wives of officers. No word came from Clinton.

The troops were exhausted, hungry, and thirsty. Their supplies would not last four days. At last, the proud spirit of the British commander had to yield. On October 13, a council of officers decided to communicate a proposal of surrender to General Gates.

On October 17, the defeated army marched out of its positions and laid down its arms. The Indians who remained were placed under strong guard, for, as one historian wrote, the murder of Jane McCrea had hardened every heart against them. More than half a century later, in 1852, Jenny McCrea’s remains were moved once more to a cemetery above the hill near Fort Edward, not far from where her young life had been brutally ended. A monument inscribed with her name and manner of death was erected by her relatives, honoring one of the most affecting episodes of the American Revolution.

Her death, which had so stirred the colonies and Europe, had helped bring France into the war on the side of the Americans, and had contributed to the chain of events ending in Burgoyne’s surrender at Saratoga, the turning point of the war that secured American independence.