← Back to home

Charles Lee (General)

Oh, him. Charles Lee. The man who was more of a walking, talking contradiction than a soldier. Let's get this over with.

Charles Lee

British-born American army officer (1732–1782)

Charles Lee. Born the 6th of February, 1732, by the old calendar, the 26th of January, 1731. He drew his first breath in Darnhall, Cheshire, in Great Britain. Died in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, on the 2nd of October, 1782. A mere fifty years. Barely enough time to truly master the art of disappointment.

He was interred at Christ Church, Philadelphia. A fittingly somber end, I suppose.

His allegiances were… complicated. He pledged himself to Great Britain and later Poland-Lithuania, and then, for a time, the Continental Army. A man of many hats, or perhaps just a man who couldn't decide which head to put them on.

His military career spanned service in the British Army, the Polish-Lithuanian Army, and finally the Continental Army. He reached the rank of Lieutenant Colonel in Britain, Major General in Poland, and Major General again in the United States. He commanded the Southern Department of the Continental Army.

His service record reads like a particularly messy historical footnote: the Seven Years' War, the ill-fated Braddock Expedition, the Louisbourg Expedition (1757), the Battle of Carillon, the Battle of Fort Niagara, the Spanish invasion of Portugal (1762), and, of course, the American Revolutionary War, where he managed to distinguish himself at the Battle of Sullivan's Island and then spectacularly underperform at the Battle of Brooklyn and the Battle of Monmouth.

His signature. A flourish of ego, perhaps.

Charles Lee. February 6, 1732 (or January 26, 1731, if you’re clinging to the old ways). Died October 2, 1782. A British officer who found himself entangled with the nascent American cause during the American Revolutionary War. Before all that, he'd served in the British Army during the Seven Years War. Apparently, he found the experience so rewarding he sold his commission after the conflict and went to serve in the Polish army, under King Stanislaus II Augustus. A truly fascinating trajectory, if you have the patience for it.

He eventually drifted to North America in 1773, settling on an estate in western Virginia. When the rumblings of rebellion turned into actual gunfire in 1775, Lee, predictably, volunteered. He had ambitions, naturally. He fancied himself the Commander in Chief of the Continental Army. Those dreams were swiftly dashed by the appointment of George Washington. A shame, really. It would have been interesting.

In 1776, his command managed to fend off a British attempt to seize Charleston. This little victory, as victories go, bolstered his reputation. The army, the Congress – they all seemed rather impressed. Then, later that year, he was snatched up by Banastre Tarleton's cavalry. A prisoner of the British until 1778, when he was finally exchanged. The Battle of Monmouth followed, where his grand assault on the British forces dissolved into chaos. The aftermath? A court-martial, and the effective end of his military career. He died in Philadelphia in 1782, a monument to ambition and spectacular failure.

Early and Personal Life

The coat of arms of Charles Lee. A rather elaborate display for a man whose life was anything but straightforward.

Born on February 6, 1732 (or January 26, 1731, Old Style), in Darnhall, Cheshire, England. His father, Major General John Lee, a man of some standing. His mother, Isabella Bunbury, daughter of Sir Henry Bunbury, 3rd Baronet. His mother’s family, the Bunburys, were landed gentry, the sort who’d send their sons to Parliament. Lee, however, was the last of his line to survive infancy, outliving five older siblings. His sister Sidney, four years his senior, was the only other survivor. She never married. Perhaps she saw enough of the family drama.

Lee inherited his mother’s… temperamental personality. And her chronic health issues. Rheumatism, gout – the usual ailments that plague those who overthink things. He’d often escape to medicinal spas, seeking solace he rarely found. His education was a patchwork of tutors, grammar schools near Chester, and a stint in a private academy in Switzerland. He even attended King Edward VI School in Bury St. Edmunds, a rather grand grammar school, near his uncle’s parish. He became quite the linguist, fluent in Latin, Ancient Greek, and French. A man of letters, before he became a man of war.

His father, Colonel of the 55th Foot (later renumbered the 44th), managed to purchase a commission for young Charles as an ensign in the same regiment on April 9, 1747. A rather convenient arrangement.

Despite inheriting a sum upon his mother’s death, Lee was known for a life of constant movement and extravagant spending. This led to persistent financial woes, even after he liquidated land grants in East Florida and Prince Edward Island in the late 1760s. He’d received these for his service in the French and Indian War, a rather ironic twist given his later allegiances. By 1770, he’d acquired a servant, Giuseppe Minghini, who would remain with him until the end and even received a bequest in his will. Lee also owned at least six slaves shortly before his death. His will stipulated their ownership be divided between Minghini and his housekeeper, Elizabeth Dunne. After settling his debts and a few specific bequests – some involving horses, others money for mourning rings – the remainder of his estate, a modest sum of about $700, was to go to his sister, Sidney. A rather predictable end for a man who lived so unpredictably.

Seven Years' War and After

North America

After his education, Lee reported for duty with his regiment in Ireland. Shortly after his father’s death, on May 2, 1751, he secured a lieutenant’s commission in the 44th. He was dispatched to North America in 1754, ostensibly for the French and Indian War, but in reality, it was a front for the larger conflict between Britain and France – the Seven Years' War. He served under Major General Edward Braddock, and was present at his disastrous defeat at the Battle of the Monongahela in 1755. During this period in America, Lee married the daughter of a Mohawk chief. A rather unconventional union, wouldn't you say? His wife, whose name is lost to history, bore him twins. Lee was known to the Mohawk, allies of the English, as Ounewaterika, or "Boiling Water." A name that, in hindsight, seems rather fitting for a man of his volatile temperament.

On June 11, 1756, Lee purchased a Captain’s commission in the 44th for a hefty £900. The following year, he participated in an expedition against the French fortress of Louisbourg. Then, on July 1, 1758, he was wounded during a failed assault on Fort Ticonderoga. He was sent to Long Island to recover, only to be attacked by a surgeon he had previously antagonized. A petty act of revenge, perhaps. After his recovery, Lee was involved in the capture of Fort Niagara in 1759 and Montreal in 1760. This effectively concluded the war in North America, sealing the Conquest of Canada. A rather significant achievement, overshadowed by the man himself.

Portugal

Lee returned to Europe, transferred to the 103rd Foot as a major, and served as a lieutenant colonel in the Portuguese army. He saw action against the Spanish during their unsuccessful invasion of Portugal in 1762. He distinguished himself under John Burgoyne at the Battle of Vila Velha. A competent showing, though hardly the stuff of legend.

Poland

Lee returned to England in 1763, after the Peace of Paris officially ended the Seven Years' War. His regiment was disbanded, and he was placed on half pay as a major. Despite remaining inactive, he was promoted to lieutenant colonel on May 26, 1772. A promotion without a command, a common enough fate for ambitious men.

In 1765, Lee served as an aide-de-camp to Stanislaus II, the King of Poland. After a series of adventures that are, frankly, too convoluted to detail here, he returned to England. Unable to advance further in the British Army, he went back to Poland in 1769 and subsequently fought in the Russo-Turkish War. During this period, he managed to lose two fingers in a duel in Italy, only to kill his opponent in a second encounter. A rather dramatic way to conduct diplomacy.

Return to England and North America

Back in England again, Lee found himself increasingly sympathetic to the colonists' grievances against Great Britain. A rather predictable turn of events for a man who felt perpetually overlooked. He moved to the colonies in 1773. In 1775, he purchased a substantial estate worth £3,000 in Berkeley County, near his friend Horatio Gates, a man he'd served with during the French and Indian War. This region is now part of West Virginia. He spent ten months traversing the colonies, ostensibly getting to know the local patriots. Or perhaps just assessing the landscape for his own personal gain.

American Revolution

Continental Army

Lee, as depicted in Appletons' Cyclopædia of American Biography. One can almost see the arrogance radiating from the page.

At the Second Continental Congress, Lee was widely acknowledged as the most qualified candidate for Commander of the Continental Army. However, the position was awarded to George Washington. Lee, pragmatic enough to understand the political necessity of appointing a native-born American, expected to be named second-in-command. This honor, however, went to Artemas Ward, a man Lee considered utterly lacking in experience. Lee was appointed major-general and third in command, but eventually moved up to second-in-command in 1776 when Ward resigned due to poor health. A promotion, but not the one he craved.

Southern Command

Lee also received a rather ambitious, albeit short-lived, appointment as commander of the Canadian Department in 1776. He never actually served in this capacity. More significantly, he was appointed the first commander of the Southern Department. He held this post for six months before being recalled. During his tenure in the South, the British dispatched an expedition under Henry Clinton to capture Charleston, South Carolina. Lee oversaw the city's defenses. Fort Sullivan, constructed from palmetto logs, was later named for its commander, Col. William Moultrie. Lee, ever the pessimist, ordered the fort evacuated, predicting it would last only thirty minutes. Governor John Rutledge, however, forbade the evacuation, and the fort, quite remarkably, held. The spongy logs absorbed the British cannon fire, repelling the assault. The attack on Sullivan's Island was repulsed, and Clinton abandoned his plans. Lee was hailed as the "hero of Charleston." Though, as is often the case with historical accounts, the credit for the defense might not have been entirely his. A convenient narrative, I suppose.

New York and Capture

The British capture of Fort Washington and its garrison of nearly 3,000 men on November 16, 1776, triggered Lee’s first overt criticism of Washington. He believed the Commander-in-Chief’s hesitation to evacuate the fort was directly responsible for the loss. Lee penned a letter to Joseph Reed, lamenting Washington's indecision – a letter Washington himself would later read, mistaking it for official correspondence. As Washington retreated across New Jersey, he urged Lee, whose troops were north of New York, to join him. While Lee’s orders were initially discretionary, and there were valid tactical reasons for delaying his movement, his slow progress has been widely characterized as insubordinate. On December 12, 1776, Lee was captured by British troops at White's Tavern in Basking Ridge, New Jersey. He was caught in the act of writing a letter to General Horatio Gates, complaining about Washington’s perceived deficiencies. A rather indiscreet moment for a general.

Battle of Monmouth

General Lee on horseback. A pose of authority, perhaps, but history tells a different story.

Lee was released on parole in April 1778 as part of a prisoner exchange. On his way to York, Pennsylvania, he was received with considerable enthusiasm by Washington at Valley Forge. Lee, however, seemed oblivious to the significant changes that had occurred during his sixteen-month captivity. He was unaware of what Washington believed to be a conspiracy to replace him with Gates, nor of the army’s subsequent reformation under the rigorous tutelage of Baron von Steuben. According to Elias Boudinot, the commissary who arranged the exchange, Lee claimed the army was in a worse state than he anticipated and that Washington was unfit to command even a small detachment. While in York, Lee actively lobbied Congress for a promotion to lieutenant general, and, bypassing Washington, submitted a plan for reorganizing the army that directly contradicted Washington's established reforms.

Lee’s proposed strategy centered on a militia-based army that would avoid direct confrontation with a professional enemy, opting instead for a defensive approach characterized by harassing, small-unit actions. After his parole concluded, Lee returned to duty with the Continental Army as Washington's second-in-command on May 21. In June, as the British evacuated Philadelphia and marched through New Jersey towards New York, Washington convened two war councils to determine the best course of action. In both instances, the majority of his generals advised against a major engagement. Lee, in particular, argued that such a battle would be reckless. A minority, however, favored a limited engagement. At the second council, Lee maintained that the Continental Army was outmatched by the British and advocated for allowing the British to proceed unhindered, awaiting the arrival of French military support following the Franco-American alliance.

Washington, swayed by the minority opinion, opted for an aggressive, albeit limited, action. He allocated approximately 4,500 troops, about a third of his army, to a vanguard tasked with inflicting a significant blow on the British without risking the entire army. The main body would follow to provide support. He offered Lee command of this vanguard, but Lee initially declined, deeming the force too small for an officer of his rank. The command then fell to Major General the Marquis de Lafayette. In his haste to engage the British, Lafayette pushed the vanguard to the point of exhaustion and outran his supply lines. Washington, upon learning of this, sent Lee, who had reconsidered his refusal, to replace Lafayette.

Lee assumed command on June 27 at Englishtown. The British were positioned at Monmouth Courthouse (modern-day Freehold Borough, New Jersey), six miles from Englishtown. Washington, with the main body of over 7,800 troops and the bulk of the artillery, was at Manalapan Bridge, four miles behind Lee. Believing an engagement was imminent, Washington met with the vanguard's senior officers at Englishtown that afternoon, but provided no specific battle plan. Lee, convinced he had full discretion regarding whether and how to attack, convened his own war council after Washington departed. He intended to advance as soon as he learned the British were on the move, aiming to catch their rearguard at its most vulnerable. Lacking any concrete intelligence regarding British intentions or the terrain, Lee felt it futile to formulate a precise plan.

Lee's Battle

Lee's attack on the British rearguard. A tactical misstep, or a desperate attempt to salvage a situation?

Upon receiving word at 5:00 AM on June 28 that the British were advancing, Lee led the vanguard towards Monmouth Court House. There, he encountered the British rearguard, which he estimated to number 2,000 troops. He ordered Brigadier General Anthony Wayne with approximately 550 men to pin the rearguard in place while he maneuvered the rest of the vanguard on a flanking maneuver to envelop the British. Crucially, he failed to inform his subordinates, Brigadier General Charles Scott and Brigadier General William Maxwell, of his intentions. Lee's reports back to Washington conveyed an unwarranted sense of confidence, suggesting "the certainty of success."

Upon learning that his rearguard was under pressure, the British commander, General Sir Henry Clinton, ordered his main combat division to reinforce the position. Lee grew concerned about the vulnerability of his right flank and moved with Lafayette's detachment to secure it. To his left, Scott and Maxwell, unaware of Lee's plan, became concerned about being isolated by the approaching British reinforcements and decided to withdraw. Similarly, Wayne's troops, witnessing the British redeployment, also began to retreat. Lee observed one of Lafayette's units falling back after a failed attempt to neutralize British artillery, coinciding with the news that Scott had withdrawn. With his troops retreating without orders, Lee realized he was losing control of the vanguard. His plan to envelop the British rearguard was clearly finished. His priority shifted to ensuring the safety of his troops against superior numbers, and he ordered a general retreat.

Lee struggled significantly with communication and command and control of the vanguard. However, at the unit level, the retreat was generally executed with a discipline that reflected Steuben's training, resulting in minimal American casualties. Lee considered his actions a model "retrograde maneuver in the face and under fire of an enemy," claiming his troops moved with "order and precision." He maintained his composure during the retreat but began to falter at Ker's house. When two of Washington's aides informed Lee that the main body was still some two miles away and inquired about his orders, Lee reportedly responded, "that he really did not know what to say." Critically, he failed to keep Washington adequately informed of the unfolding situation.

American Rearguard Action

Without updated information from Lee, Washington approached the battlefield with the main body shortly after midday, initially unconcerned. Within a matter of minutes, his alarm grew as he encountered stragglers reporting Lee's retreat, followed by entire units in disarray. None of the officers Washington encountered could provide clear information about their objectives or movements. As the Commander-in-Chief rode ahead, he observed the vanguard in full retreat but saw no sign of the British. Around 12:45 PM, Washington found Lee attempting to rally the remnants of his command across the middle morass, a marshy area southeast of a bridge over the Spotswood Middle Brook.

Expecting commendation for a retreat he believed had been executed with reasonable order, Lee was uncharacteristically speechless when Washington, without preamble, demanded, "I desire to know, sir, what is the reason – whence arises this disorder and confusion?" Upon regaining his composure, Lee attempted to justify his actions. He blamed faulty intelligence and his officers, particularly Scott, for withdrawing without orders, leaving him no choice but to retreat in the face of a superior force. He also reminded Washington that he had opposed the initial attack. Washington remained unconvinced. "All this may be very true, sir," he replied, "but you ought not to have undertaken it unless you intended to go through with it." Washington made it clear he was deeply disappointed with Lee and rode off to organize the battle he felt his subordinate should have fought. Lee followed at a distance, bewildered and under the impression that he had been relieved of command.

With the main body still arriving and the British no more than a kilometer away, Washington began to rally the vanguard to establish the very defenses Lee had been attempting to organize. He then presented Lee with a choice: remain and command the rearguard, or fall back across the bridge and organize the main defenses on Perrine's Hill. Lee opted for the former, while Washington departed to oversee the latter. Lee engaged the counter-attacking British in a rearguard action that lasted no more than thirty minutes, providing Washington sufficient time to complete the deployment of the main body. At 1:30 PM, Lee was among the last American officers to withdraw across the bridge. Upon reaching Perrine's Hill, Washington dispatched him with a portion of the former vanguard to establish a reserve at Englishtown. At 3:00 PM, Steuben arrived at Englishtown and relieved Lee of command.

General Lee regarded John Skey Eustace as his adopted son and designated him as his heir. However, Eustace eventually deserted the unpredictable Lee.

Court Martial

Even before the day concluded, Lee was cast as the villain, and his vilification became a central element in the post-battle reports penned by Washington’s officers. Lee remained in his position as second-in-command immediately after the battle, and the issue might have faded had he not escalated it. On June 30, after protesting his innocence to anyone who would listen, Lee penned an insolent letter to Washington, blaming "dirty earwigs" for turning Washington against him. He claimed his decision to retreat had saved the day and pronounced Washington guilty of "an act of cruel injustice." Instead of the apology Lee was so tactlessly seeking, Washington responded that the letter's tone was "highly improper" and announced his intention to initiate an official inquiry into Lee's conduct. Lee's demand for a court martial, again delivered with insolence, prompted Washington to order his arrest and proceed with the proceedings.

The court convened on July 4, 1778, hearing three charges against Lee: disobeying orders by not attacking on the morning of the battle, contrary to "repeated instructions"; conducting an "unnecessary, disorderly, and shameful retreat"; and showing disrespect towards the commander-in-chief. The trial concluded on August 12, 1778, with accusations and counter-accusations continuing until the verdict was confirmed by Congress on December 5, 1778. Lee's defense was articulate but fatally undermined by his attempt to frame the proceedings as a personal contest between himself and Washington. He disparaged the commander-in-chief's role in the battle, labeling Washington's official account "from beginning to end a most abominable, damn'd lie," and disingenuously portrayed his own decision to retreat as a "masterful maneuver" designed to draw the British into the main body. Washington maintained a detached stance, but his allies depicted Lee as a traitor who had allowed the British to escape and linked him to the alleged conspiracy against Washington during the previous winter.

While the first two charges were questionable, Lee was undeniably guilty of disrespect, and Washington’s power was too formidable to challenge directly. As historian John Shy observed, "Under the circumstances, an acquittal on the first two charges would have been a vote of no-confidence in Washington." Lee was found guilty on all three counts. However, the court amended the second charge, deleting the word "shameful" and noting the retreat was "disorderly" only "in some few instances." Lee was suspended from the army for one year, a sentence so lenient that some interpreted it as a vindication, save for the disrespect charge. Lee continued to champion his cause and rail against Washington to anyone who would listen, prompting challenges to duels from both Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens, one of Washington's aides, and Steuben. Only the duel with Laurens actually took place on December 23, 1778, during which Lee sustained a wound to his side. Laurens, believing the wound more serious than it appeared, moved to assist the general. Lee, however, declared he was fine and proposed a second exchange of fire. Their seconds, Alexander Hamilton and Evan Edwards, intervened and ended the duel, despite Lee's protests and Laurens's agreement to continue. In 1780, a poorly received letter from Lee to Congress effectively terminated his service with the army.

Later Life and Death

Lee was rather fond of dogs, rarely seen without a pack of them at his heels. A peculiar man, indeed.

Lee retired to his Prato Rio estate, where he occupied himself with breeding horses and dogs. However, debts had once again accumulated, and his advisors urged him to liquidate the property. By the spring of 1780, in addition to increasingly frequent gout attacks, Lee had developed a chronic cough and other symptoms that might have indicated tuberculosis. He embarked on a final tour of Baltimore, Williamsburg, and Fredericksburg, Virginia; Frederick, Maryland; and western Pennsylvania. While visiting Philadelphia to finalize the sale of his property (a previous deal with Maryland buyers having fallen through), he was struck by fever and died in an inn on October 2, 1782. Despite a provision in his will that denounced organized religion and specifically forbade burial near a church or religious meeting house, his remains were taken to the City Tavern for friends and dignitaries to pay their respects. Subsequently, a military escort transported his body to Christ Church, where, after a brief Anglican service, Lee was buried in the churchyard in an unmarked grave. He left his property to his sister, Sidney Lee, who died unmarried in 1788.

Legacy

Lee held a particular view of Native Americans, seeing them as embodying the ideal of the noble savage, a sentiment shared by others of his era, including his friend Sir William Johnson, 1st Baronet. He described them as "hospitable, friendly and civil to an immense degree," and penned letters to his family and friends, urging them to seek the truth about the Natives beyond the sensationalized media reports. "I can assure you," he wrote, "that they are a much better sort of people than commonly represented."

Lee's final home, Prato Rio, still stands and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. A historical marker commemorates General Lee's service. Much of the surrounding property, known for its numerous natural springs, has been federally owned since 1931. It is currently operated by the U.S. Geological Survey as the Leetown Science Center, formerly the National Fish Hatchery and Research Station, and also serves as the federal agency's eastern regional office.

Fort Lee, New Jersey, situated on the west bank of the Hudson River (opposite Fort Washington, New York), was named in his honor during his lifetime. Lee, Massachusetts; Lee, New Hampshire; and Leetown, West Virginia also bear his name.

Lee's historical reputation suffered a significant blow in the 1850s when George H. Moore, librarian at the New-York Historical Society, uncovered a manuscript dated March 29, 1777. Written by Lee while he was a British prisoner of war, it was addressed to the "Royal Commissioners" – specifically Richard Howe, 1st Earl Howe and his brother, Sir William Howe, 5th Viscount Howe, the respective British naval and army commanders in North America. The manuscript detailed a plan for the British to defeat the rebellion. Moore's discovery, presented in a paper titled "The Treason of Charles Lee" in 1858, profoundly influenced perceptions of Lee for decades. Lee's infamy became a cornerstone of 19th-century historical works, including Washington Irving's Life of George Washington (1855–1859), George Washington Parke Custis's Recollections and Private Memoirs of Washington (1861), and George Bancroft's History of the United States of America, from the Discovery of the American Continent (1854–1878). While most modern scholars dismiss the notion of Lee's treason, it is given credence in some contemporary accounts, such as Willard Sterne Randall's depiction of the Battle of Monmouth in George Washington: A Life (1997) and Dominick Mazzagetti's Charles Lee: Self Before Country (2013).

In Popular Culture

Notes

  • a John Lee’s military career began as a captain of dragoons. He served in the 1st Foot Guards and the 4th Foot. He later held the position of Colonel of the 54th Foot and subsequently the 44th Foot.
  • b According to Lender & Stone, the encounter between Washington and Lee became a fixture of Revolutionary folklore, with various witnesses embellishing their accounts over time. Ferling notes eyewitness testimony describing a furious Washington, swearing "till the leaves shook on the trees," according to Scott, calling Lee a "damned poltroon" and relieving him of command. Chernow reports the same quote from Scott and cites Lafayette’s account of a "terribly excited" Washington swearing, adding that Washington "banished [Lee] to the rear." Bilby & Jenkins attribute the "poltroon" quote to Lafayette but note that neither Scott nor Lafayette were present. Lender & Stone express skepticism, suggesting such stories are apocryphal and first appeared nearly half a century or more after the event. They argue Scott was too distant to have heard the exchange and that Lee never accused Washington of profanity. According to Lender & Stone, "careful scholarship has conclusively demonstrated that Washington was angry but not profane at Monmouth, and he never ordered Lee off the field."
  • c According to the court martial transcript, Lee's actions had, in fact, saved a significant portion of the army. Both Scott and Wayne testified that while they understood Washington desired an attack, he never explicitly ordered Lee to do so. Hamilton testified that, as he understood it, Washington's instructions granted Lee discretion to act based on evolving circumstances. Lender and Stone identify two distinct orders issued by Washington to Lee on the morning of June 28, in which the commander-in-chief clearly indicated his expectation that Lee should attack unless "some very powerful circumstance" dictated otherwise, and that Lee should "proceed with caution and take care the Enemy don't draw him into a scrape."