By Frank R. Stockton

Originally published in 1896
This Web version, edited by GET NJ, COPYRIGHT 2003

But one of the guests to whom these honors were given did not appear at the ball. The Spanish envoy was taken sick, and a few days afterwards died at the headquarters. He was buried with great pomp and ceremony. The funeral procession was a mile long, and attended by Washington and all his officers. Minute guns boomed as the procession passed from the headquarters to the graveyard at the back of the First Presbyterian Church, and people came from all parts of the surrounding country to view the great procession.

The funeral services were conducted by a Spanish priest with the impressive rites of the Catholic Church; and after a military salute had been fired over the grave, sentinels were placed to guard it, for the Spanish nobleman was buried in full regalia. A gold watch studded with diamonds was in his pocket; diamonds were on his fingers; and valuable seals were attached to his watchguard.

There was not so much fear at this time of an attack from the enemy as there had been during the previous winter, when Washington was at Morristown. Now, there were only four guards at the headquarters, – two at the front of the house, and two at the back. But the most careful preparations were made in case the enemy should show itself, and now and then a false alarm showed the perfection of the discipline which was maintained.

On such occasions a shot would be heard from one of the most distant outposts, then a sentinel near the town would fire, and so on until a report would be heard by the sentinels at the headquarters, who would fire their guns; then there were the guns in Morristown, and so on out to the camp, and very soon a detachment would hurry into the town at a quick- step. But before they reached the place, the life guard encamped near the headquarters would rush to the house, enter the lower story, and barricade the doors; and five men at each window, with muskets loaded and ready to fire, would await the approach of the enemy.

But although no British soldiers ever reached Morristown, there was good reason for all the precautions taken. Besides the frequent attempts which were made by large bodies of the Redcoats to penetrate to the region occupied by Washington's army, there were small expeditions even more dangerous. One of these consisted of a party of picked British cavalrymen, who started from their camp near New York, by way of Elizabethtown, for the express purpose of capturing General Washington. They advanced in the direction of Morristown until they reached Chatham, about six miles distant, and there – being overtaken by a terrible storm, and finding so many difficulties ahead of them – they gave up their project.

Outside of Morristown, on a high hill which stretches away to the southwest, the American army was encamped during this winter. Among these men we can scarcely believe there were many festivities or merrymakings. In fact, the sufferings and privations of the common soldiers at this time were very great, and even the table of the commander in chief was sometimes furnished with the plainest of food. In a letter written by Washington at this time, he says,–

We have had the virtue and patience of the army put to the severest trial. Sometimes it has been five or six days together without bread; at other times as many days without meat; and once or twice, two or three days without either. I hardly thought it possible, at one period, that we should be able to keep it together, nor could it have been done, but for the exertions of the magistrates in the several counties of this state [Jersey], on whom I was obliged to call, expose our situation to them, and in plain terms declare that we were reduced to the alternative of disbanding or catering for ourselves, unless the inhabitants would afford us their aid. I allotted to each county a certain proportion of flour or grain, and a certain number of cattle, to be delivered on certain days ; and for the honor of the magistrates, and the good disposition of the people, I must add that my requisitions were punctually complied with, and in many counties exceeded. Nothing but this great exertion could have saved the army from dissolution or starving, as we were bereft of every hope from the commissaries. At one time the soldiers ate every kind of horse food but-hay. Buckwheat, common wheat, rye, and Indian corn composed the meal which made their bread. As an army, they bore it with the most heroic patience ; but sufferings like these, accompanied by the want of clothes, blankets, etc., will produce frequent desertions in all armies; and so it happened with us, though it did not excite a single mutiny.

His engineers therefore planned a large fortification made up of earthworks; and on this the men were put to work, as if it had been expected that the enemy would soon arrive, and take the place. The desire to put their camp in a condition of defense, and the animation of steady labor, were of as much advantage to the spirits of the soldiers as bread and meat would be to their bodies; and, from sitting in idle groups about their camp fires and huts, they worked on the new intrenchments, ramparts, and redoubts with cheerful energy

Everything was done exactly as if the new fort were soon to be called upon to protect the town, which stretched itself beneath the hill; and the engineers and officers were as careful in making plans and giving directions as if they had been building a fort at the entrance of New York Bay.

It was never expected that the fort would be attacked, and it was never supposed, that, if the British should come this way, the battle would be fought in or about the town; but the building of the fort was honestly intended for the defense and protection of the troops, not against muskets, cannon, and bayonets, but against discontent and despair, – enemies far more formidable to the suffering army of that day than British troops and Hessians.

The result was a good one: Washington's army at Morristown stood by him as long as he staid there; and when they marched away, they left upon the top of that hill a monument to the wisdom, the kindness, and the knowledge of human nature, displayed by their great commander in chief in those hazardous days.

We do not know what this earthwork was first called; but in time it came to be known as Fort Nonsense, simply because it appeared to the ordinary man as a great piece of work undertaken without any good purpose. But never was a name more inapplicable. If it had been called Fort Good Sense, it would have been much more suitable.

The remains of this fort are still to be seen on the hill beyond Morristown; and a monumental stone has been set up there to mark its site, and explain its nature and purpose. Most of its ramparts and redoubts have been washed away by the storms of more than a century, and we can still perceive many of its outlines; but those skilled in the art of military fortification know that it was a good fortress, while students of human nature and of the influence of great minds upon the welfare of their fellow-beings, know that it acted an important part in the defense of our liberties and the establishment of our government.

It may be remarked that in this story we have said a good deal about other things, and very little about Fort Nonsense. But there is very little of Fort Non- sense, and not much to say about it; and what has been told was the story of the camp life of Washington and his army in New Jersey, the most permanent and suggestive point of which is the earthwork called Fort Nonsense.

Authorities: "Historical Collections." Barber and Howe.
"History of New Jersey." J. C. Raum.
"Story of an Old Farm." A. D. Mellick.