BATTLE OF LONG ISLAND.--RETREAT.
The movements of the British fleet, and of the camp on Staten Island,
gave signs of a meditated attack; but as the nature of that attack was
uncertain, Washington was obliged to retain the greater part of his
troops in the city for its defence, holding them ready, however, to be
transferred to any point in the vicinity. General Mifflin, with about
five hundred of the Pennsylvania troops, of Colonels Shee and Magaw's
regiments, were at King's Bridge, ready to aid at a moment's notice.
General George Clinton was at that post, with about fourteen hundred
of his yeomanry of the Hudson.
Reports from different quarters gave Washington reason to apprehend
that the design of the enemy might be to land part of their force on
Long Island, and endeavor to get possession of the heights of
Brooklyn, which overlooked New York; while another part should land
above the city. Thus, various disconnected points, distant from each
other, and a great extent of intervening country, had to be defended
by raw troops, against a superior force well disciplined, and
possessed of every facility for operating by land and water.
General Greene, with a considerable force, was stationed at Brooklyn.
He had acquainted himself with all the localities of the island, from
Hell Gate to the Narrows, and made his plan of defence accordingly.
His troops were diligently occupied in works which he laid out, about
a mile beyond the village of Brooklyn, and facing the interior of the
island, whence a land attack might be attempted. Brooklyn was
immediately opposite to New York. The Sound, commonly called the East
River, in that place about three quarters of a mile in width, swept
its rapid tides between them. The village stood on a kind of
peninsula, formed by the deep inlets of Wallabout Bay on the north,
and Gowanus Cove on the south. A line of intrenchments and strong
redoubts extended across the neck of the peninsula, from the bay to a
swamp and creek emptying into the cove. To protect the rear of the
works from the enemy's ships, a battery was erected at Red Hook, the
south-west corner of the peninsula, and a fort on Governor's Island,
nearly opposite.
About two miles and a half in front of the line of intrenchments and
redoubts, a range of hills, densely wooded, extended from south-west
to north-east, forming a natural barrier across the island. It was
traversed by three roads. One, on the left of the works, stretched
eastwardly to Bedford, and then by a pass through the Bedford Hills to
the village of Jamaica; another, central and direct, led through the
woody heights to Flatbush; a third, on the right of the lines, passed
by Gowanus Cove to the Narrows and Gravesend Bay. The occupation of
this range of hills, and the protection of its passes, had been
designed by General Greene; but unfortunately, in the midst of his
arduous toils, he was taken down by a raging fever, which confined him
to his bed; and General Sullivan, just returned from Lake Champlain,
had the temporary command.
On the 21st came a letter, written in all haste by Brigadier-general
William Livingston, of New Jersey. Movements of the enemy on Staten
Island had been seen from his camp. He had sent over a spy at
midnight, who brought back the following intelligence. Twenty thousand
men had embarked to make an attack on Long Island, and up the Hudson.
Fifteen thousand remained on Staten Island, to attack Bergen Point,
Elizabethtown Point, and Amboy.
Washington sent a copy of the letter to the New York Convention. On
the following morning (August 22d) the enemy appeared to be carrying
their plans into execution. The reports of cannon and musketry were
heard from Long Island, and columns of smoke were descried rising
above the groves and orchards at a distance. The city, as usual, was
alarmed, and had reason to be so; for word soon came that several
thousand men, with artillery and light-horse, were landed at
Gravesend; and that Colonel Hand, stationed there with the
Pennsylvania rifle regiment, had retreated to the lines, setting fire
to stacks of wheat, and other articles, to keep them from falling into
the enemy's hands. Washington apprehended an attempt of the foe by a
forced march, to surprise the lines at Brooklyn. He immediately sent
over a reinforcement of six battalions. It was all that he could
spare, as with the next tide the ships might bring up the residue of
the army, and attack the city. Five battalions more, however, were
ordered to be ready as a reinforcement, if required.
Nine thousand of the enemy had landed, with forty pieces of cannon.
Sir Henry Clinton had the chief command, and led the first division.
His associate officers were the Earls of Cornwallis and Percy, General
Grant, and General Sir William Erskine. As their boats approached the
shore, Colonel Hand, stationed, as has been said, in the neighborhood
with his rifle regiment, retreated to the chain of wooded hills, and
took post on a height commanding the central road leading from
Flatbush. The enemy having landed without opposition, Lord Cornwallis
was detached with the reserve to Flatbush, while the rest of the army
extended itself from the ferry at the Narrows through Utrecht and
Gravesend, to the village of Flatland. Cornwallis, with two battalions
of light-infantry, Colonel Donop's corps of Hessians, and six
field-pieces, advanced rapidly to seize upon the central pass through
the hills. He found Hand and his riflemen ready to make a vigorous
defence. This brought him to a halt, having been ordered not to risk
an attack should the pass be occupied. He took post for the night,
therefore, in the village of Flatbush.
On the 24th Washington crossed over to Brooklyn, to inspect the lines
and reconnoitre the neighborhood. In this visit he felt sensibly the
want of General Greene's presence, to explain his plans and point out
the localities. The American advanced posts were in the wooded hills.
Colonel Hand, with his riflemen, kept watch over the central road, and
a strong redoubt had been thrown up in front of the pass, to check any
advance of the enemy from Flatbush. Another road leading from Flatbush
to Bedford, by which the enemy might get round to the left of the
works at Brooklyn, was guarded by two regiments, one under Colonel
Williams, posted on the north side of the ridge, the other by a
Pennsylvanian rifle regiment, under Colonel Miles, posted on the south
side. The enemy were stretched along the country beyond the chain of
hills.
As yet nothing had taken place but skirmishing and irregular firing
between the outposts. It was with deep concern Washington noticed a
prevalent disorder and confusion in the camp. There was a want of
system among the officers and co-operation among the troops, each
corps seeming to act independently of the rest. Few of the men had any
military experience, except, perchance, in bush-fighting with the
Indians. Unaccustomed to discipline and the restraint of camps, they
sallied forth whenever they pleased, singly or in squads, prowling
about and firing upon the enemy, like hunters after game. Much of this
was no doubt owing to the protracted illness of General Greene. On
returning to the city, therefore, Washington gave the command on Long
Island to General Putnam, warning him, however, in his letter of
instructions, to summon the officers together, and enjoin them to put
a stop to the irregularities which he had observed among the troops.
In the meantime, the enemy were augmenting their forces on the island.
Two brigades of Hessians, under Lieutenant-general De Heister, were
transferred from the camp on Staten Island on the 25th. This movement
did not escape the vigilant eye of Washington. He now concluded that
the enemy were about to make a push with their main force for the
possession of Brooklyn Heights. He accordingly sent over additional
reinforcements, and among them Colonel John Haslet's well equipped and
well disciplined Delaware regiment; which was joined to Lord
Stirling's brigade, chiefly composed of Southern troops, and stationed
outside of the lines.
On the 26th he crossed over to Brooklyn, accompanied by Reed, the
adjutant-general. There was much movement among the enemy's troops,
and their number was evidently augmented. In fact. General De Heister
had reached Flatbush with his Hessians, and taken command of the
centre; whereupon Sir Henry Clinton, with the right wing, drew off to
Flatlands, in a diagonal line to the right of De Heister, while the
left wing, commanded by General Grant, extended to the place of
landing on Gravesend Bay.
Washington remained all day, aiding General Putnam with his counsels,
who, new to the command, had not been able to make himself well
acquainted with the fortified posts beyond the lines. In the evening,
Washington returned to the city, full of anxious thought. A general
attack was evidently at hand. Where would it be made? How would his
inexperienced troops stand the encounter? What would be the defence of
the city if assailed by the ships? It was a night of intense
solicitude, and well might it be; for during that night a plan was
carried into effect, fraught with disaster to the Americans.
The plan to which we allude was concerted by General Howe, the
commander-in-chief. Sir Henry Clinton with the vanguard, composed of
the choicest troops, was, by a circuitous march in the night to throw
himself into the road leading from Jamaica to Bedford, seize upon a
pass through the Bedford Hills, within three miles of that village,
and thus turn the left of the American advanced posts. To divert the
attention of the Americans from this stealthy march on their left,
General Grant was to menace their right flank toward Gravesend before
daybreak, and General De Heister to cannonade their centre, where
Colonel Hand was stationed. Neither, however, was to press an attack
until the guns of Sir Henry Clinton should give notice that he had
effected his purpose, and turned the left flank of the Americans; then
the latter were to be assailed at all points with the utmost vigor.
About nine o'clock in the evening of the 26th, Sir Henry Clinton began
his march from Flatlands with the vanguard, composed of light
infantry. Lord Percy followed with the grenadiers, artillery, and
light dragoons, forming the centre. Lord Cornwallis brought up the
rear-guard with the heavy ordnance. General Howe accompanied this
division. It was a silent march, without beat of drum or sound of
trumpet, under guidance of a Long Island tory, along by-roads
traversing a swamp by a narrow causeway, and so across the country to
the Jamaica road. About two hours before daybreak, they arrived within
half a mile of the pass through the Bedford Hills, and halted to
prepare for an attack. At this juncture they captured an American
patrol, and learnt, to their surprise, that the Bedford pass was
unoccupied. In fact, the whole road beyond Bedford, leading to
Jamaica, had been left unguarded, excepting by some light volunteer
troops. Colonels Williams and Miles, who were stationed to the left of
Colonel Hand, among the wooded hills, had been instructed to send out
parties occasionally to patrol the road, but no troops had been
stationed at the Bedford pass. The road and pass may not have been
included in General Greene's plan of defence, or may have been thought
too far out of the way to need special precaution. The neglect of
them, however, proved fatal.
Sir Henry Clinton immediately detached a battalion of light infantry
to secure the pass; and, advancing with his corps at the first break
of day, possessed himself of the heights. He was now within three
miles of Bedford, and his march had been undiscovered. Having passed
the heights, therefore, he halted his division for the soldiers to
take some refreshment, preparatory to the morning's hostilities. There
we will leave them, while we note how the other divisions performed
their part of the plan.
About midnight General Grant moved from Gravesend Bay, with the left
wing, composed of two brigades and a regiment of regulars, a battalion
of New York loyalists, and ten field-pieces. He proceeded along the
road leading past the Narrows and Gowanus Cove, toward the right of
the American works. A picket guard of Pennsylvanian and New York
militia, under Colonel Atlee, retired before him fighting to a
position on the skirts of the wooded hills. In the meantime, scouts
had brought in word to the American lines that the enemy were
approaching in force upon the right. General Putnam instantly ordered
Lord Stirling to hasten with the two regiments nearest at hand, and
hold them in check. These were Haslet's Delaware, and Smallwood's
Maryland regiments; the latter the _macaronis_, in scarlet and buff,
who had outshone, in camp, their yeoman fellow-soldiers in home-spun.
They turned out with great alacrity, and Stirling pushed forward with
them on the road to the Narrows. By the time he had passed Gowanus
Cove, daylight began to appear. Here, on a rising ground he met
Colonel Atlee with his Pennsylvania Provincials, and learned that the
enemy were near. Indeed their front began to appear in the uncertain
twilight. Stirling ordered Atlee to place himself in ambush in an
orchard on the left of the road, and await their coming up, while he
formed the Delaware and Maryland regiments along a ridge from the
road, up to a piece of woods on the top of the hill.
Atlee gave the enemy two or three volleys as they approached, and then
retreated and formed in the wood on Lord Stirling's left. By this time
his lordship was reinforced by Kichline's riflemen, part of whom he
placed along a hedge at the foot of the hill, and part in front of the
wood. General Grant threw his light troops in the advance, and posted
them in an orchard and behind hedges, extending in front of the
Americans, and about one hundred and fifty yards distant.
It was now broad daylight. A rattling fire commenced between the
British light troops and the American riflemen, which continued for
about two hours, when the former retired to their main body. In the
meantime, Stirling's position had been strengthened by the arrival of
Captain Carpenter with two field-pieces. These were placed on the side
of the hill, so as to command the road and the approach for some
hundred yards. General Grant, likewise, brought up his artillery
within three hundred yards, and formed his brigades on opposite hills,
about six hundred yards distant. There was occasional cannonading on
both sides, but neither party sought a general action. Lord Stirling's
object was merely to hold the enemy in check; and the instructions of
General Grant, as we have shown, were not to press an attack until
aware that Sir Henry Clinton was on the left flank of the Americans.
During this time, De Heister had commenced his part of the plan by
opening a cannonade from his camp at Flatbush upon the redoubt, at the
pass of the wooded hills, where Hand and his riflemen were stationed.
On hearing this, General Sullivan, who was within the lines, rode
forth to Colonel Hand's post to reconnoitre. De Heister, however,
according to the plan of operations, did not advance from Flatbush,
but kept up a brisk fire from his artillery on the redoubt in front of
the pass, which replied as briskly. At the same time, a cannonade from
a British ship upon the battery at Red Hook, contributed to distract
the attention of the Americans.
In the meantime terror reigned in New York. The volleying of musketry
and the booming of cannon at early dawn, had told of the fighting that
had commenced. As the morning advanced, and platoon firing and the
occasional discharge of a field-piece were heard in different
directions, the terror increased. Washington was still in doubt
whether this was but a part of a general attack, in which the city was
to be included. Five ships of the line were endeavoring to beat up the
bay. Were they to cannonade the city, or to land troops above it?
Fortunately, a strong head-wind baffled their efforts; but one vessel
of inferior force got up far enough to open the fire already mentioned
upon the fort at Red Hook. Seeing no likelihood of an immediate attack
upon the city, Washington hastened over to Brooklyn in his barge, and
galloped up to the works. He arrived there in time to witness the
catastrophe for which all the movements of the enemy had been
concerted.
The thundering of artillery in the direction of Bedford, had given
notice that Sir Henry had turned the left of the Americans. De Heister
immediately ordered Colonel Count Donop to advance with his Hessian
regiment, and storm the redoubt, while he followed with his whole
division. Sullivan did not remain to defend the redoubt. Sir Henry's
cannon had apprised him of the fatal truth, that his flank was turned,
and he in danger of being surrounded. He ordered a retreat to the
lines, but it was already too late. Scarce had he descended from the
height, and emerged into the plain, when he was met by the British
light infantry, and dragoons, and driven back into the woods. By this
time De Heister and his Hessians had come up, and now commenced a
scene of confusion, consternation, and slaughter, in which the troops
under Williams and Miles were involved. Hemmed in and entrapped
between the British and Hessians, and driven from one to the other,
the Americans fought for a time bravely, or rather desperately. Some
were cut down and trampled by the cavalry, others bayoneted without
mercy by the Hessians. Some rallied in groups, and made a brief stand
with their rifles from rocks or behind trees. The whole pass was a
scene of carnage, resounding with the clash of arms, the tramp of
horses, the volleying of fire-arms and the cries of the combatants,
with now and then the dreary braying of the trumpet. At length some of
the Americans, by a desperate effort, cut their way through the host
of foes, and effected a retreat to the lines, fighting as they went.
Others took refuge among the woods and fastnesses of the hills, but a
great part were either killed or taken prisoners. Among the latter was
General Sullivan.
Washington, as we have observed, arrived in time to witness this
catastrophe, but was unable to prevent it. He had heard the din of the
battle in the woods, and seen the smoke rising from among the trees;
but a deep column of the enemy was descending from the hills on the
left; his choicest troops were all in action, and he had none but
militia to man the works. His solicitude was now awakened for the
safety of Lord Stirling and his corps, who had been all the morning
exchanging cannonades with General Grant. He saw the danger to which
these brave fellows were exposed, though they could not. Stationed on
a hill within the lines, he commanded, with his telescope, a view of
the whole field, and saw the enemy's reserve, under Cornwallis,
marching down by a cross-road to get in their rear, and thus place
them between two fires. With breathless anxiety he watched the result.
The sound of Sir Henry Clinton's cannon apprised Stirling that the
enemy was between him and the lines. General Grant, too, aware that
the time had come for earnest action, was closing up, and had already
taken Colonel Atlee prisoner. His lordship now thought to effect a
circuitous retreat to the lines, by crossing the creek which empties
into Gowanus Cove, near what was called the Yellow Mills. There was a
bridge and mill-dam, and the creek might be forded at low water, but
no time was to be lost, for the tide was rising. Leaving part of his
men to keep face toward General Grant, he advanced with the rest to
pass the creek, but was suddenly checked by the appearance of
Cornwallis and his grenadiers.
Washington, and some of his officers on the hill, who watched every
movement, had supposed that Stirling and his troops, finding the case
desperate, would surrender in a body without firing. On the contrary,
his lordship boldly attacked Cornwallis with half of Smallwood's
battalion, while the rest of his troops retreated across the creek.
Washington wrung his hands in agony at the sight. "Good God!" cried
he, "what brave fellows I must this day lose!"
It was, indeed, a desperate fight; and now Smallwood's _macaronis_
showed their game spirit. They were repeatedly broken, but as often
rallied and renewed the fight. "We were on the point of driving Lord
Cornwallis from his station," writes Lord Stirling, "but large
reinforcements arriving, rendered it impossible to do more than
provide for safety." "Being thus surrounded, and no probability of a
reinforcement," writes a Maryland officer, "his lordship ordered me to
retreat with the remaining part of our men, and force our way to our
camp."
Only five companies of Smallwood's battalion were now in action. There
was a warm and close engagement for nearly ten minutes. The struggle
became desperate on the part of the Americans. Broken and disordered,
they rallied in a piece of woods, and made a second attack. They were
again overpowered with numbers. Some were surrounded and bayoneted in
a field of Indian corn; others joined their comrades who were
retreating across the marsh. Lord Stirling had encouraged and animated
his young soldiers by his voice and example, but when all was lost he
sought out General De Heister, and surrendered himself as his
prisoner. More than two hundred and fifty brave fellows perished in
this deadly struggle, within sight of the lines of Brooklyn. That part
of the Delaware troops who had first crossed the creek and swamp, made
good their retreat to the lines with a trifling loss.
The enemy now concentrated their forces within a few hundred yards of
the redoubts. The grenadiers were within musket shot. Washington
expected they would storm the works, and prepared for a desperate
defence. The discharge of a cannon and volleys of musketry from the
part of the lines nearest to them, seemed to bring them to a pause. It
was, in truth, the forbearance of the British commander that prevented
a bloody conflict. His troops, heated with action and flushed with
success, were eager to storm the works; but he was unwilling to risk
the loss of life that must attend an assault, when the object might be
attained at a cheaper rate, by regular approaches. Checking the ardor
of his men, therefore, though with some difficulty, he drew them off
to a hollow way in front of the lines, but out of reach of the
musketry, and encamped there for the night.
The loss of the Americans in this disastrous battle has been variously
stated, but is thought in killed, wounded and prisoners, to have been
nearly two thousand; a large number, considering that not above five
thousand were engaged. The enemy acknowledged a loss of 380 killed and
wounded. The success of the enemy was attributed, in some measure, to
the doubt in which Washington was kept as to the nature of the
intended attack, and at what point it would chiefly be made. This
obliged him to keep a great part of his forces in New York, and to
distribute those at Brooklyn over a wide extent of country, and at
widely distant places. Much of the day's disaster has been attributed,
also, to a confusion in the command, caused by the illness of General
Greene. Putnam, who had supplied his place in the emergency after the
enemy had landed, had not time to make himself acquainted with the
post and the surrounding country. The fatal error, however, and one
probably arising from all these causes, consisted in leaving the
passes through the wooded hills too weakly fortified and guarded; and
especially in neglecting the eastern road, by which Sir Henry Clinton
got in the rear of the advanced troops, cut them off from the lines,
and subjected them to a cross fire of his own men and De Heister's
Hessians.
The night after the battle was a weary, yet almost sleepless one to
the Americans. Fatigued, dispirited, many of them sick and wounded,
yet they were for the most part without tent or other shelter. To
Washington it was a night of anxious vigil. Everything boded a close
and deadly conflict. The enemy had pitched a number of tents about a
mile distant. Their sentries were but a quarter of a mile off, and
close to the American sentries. The morning broke lowering and dreary.
Large encampments were gradually descried; to appearance, the enemy
were twenty thousand strong. As the day advanced, their ordnance began
to play upon the works. They were proceeding to intrench themselves,
but were driven into their tents by a drenching rain.
Early in the morning General Mifflin arrived in camp with part of the
troops which had been stationed at Fort Washington and King's Bridge.
He brought with him Shee's prime Philadelphia regiment, and Magaw's
Pennsylvania regiment, both well disciplined and officered, and
accustomed to act together. They were so much reduced in number,
however, by sickness, that they did not amount in the whole to more
than eight hundred men. With Mifflin came also Colonel Glover's
Massachusetts regiment, composed chiefly of Marblehead fishermen and
sailors, hardy, adroit, and weather-proof; trimly clad in blue jackets
and trousers. The detachment numbered, in the whole, about thirteen
hundred men, all fresh and full of spirits. They were posted at the
left extremity of the intrenchments towards the Wallabout.
There were skirmishes throughout the day between the riflemen on the
advanced posts and the British "irregulars," which at times were quite
severe; but no decided attack was attempted. The main body of the
enemy kept within their tents until the latter part of the day; when
they began to break ground at about five hundred yards distance from
the works, as if preparing to carry them by regular approaches.
On the 29th there was a dense fog over the island, that wrapped
everything in mystery. In the course of the morning, General Mifflin,
with Adjutant-general Reed, and Colonel Grayson of Virginia, one of
Washington's aides-de-camp, rode to the western outposts, in the
neighborhood of Red Hook. While they were there, a light breeze lifted
the fog from a part of the New York Bay, and revealed the British
ships at their anchorage opposite Staten Island. There appeared to be
an unusual bustle among them. Boats were passing to and from the
admiral's ship, as if seeking or carrying orders. Some movement was
apparently in agitation. The idea occurred to the reconnoitring party
that the fleet was preparing, should the wind hold and the fog clear
away, to come up the bay at the turn of the tide, silence the feeble
batteries at Red Hook and the city, and anchor in the East River. In
that case the army on Long Island would be completely surrounded and
entrapped.
Alarmed at this perilous probability, they spurred back to
head-quarters, to urge the immediate withdrawal of the army. As this
might not be acceptable advice, Reed, emboldened by his intimacy with
the commander-in-chief, undertook to give it. Washington instantly
summoned a council of war. The difficulty was already apparent of
guarding such extensive works with troops fatigued and dispirited, and
exposed to the inclemencies of the weather. Other dangers now
presented themselves. Their communication with New York might be cut
off by the fleet from below. Other ships had passed round Long Island,
and were at Flushing Bay on the Sound. These might land troops on the
east side of Harlem River, and make themselves masters of King's
Bridge; that key of Manhattan Island. Taking all these things into
consideration, it was resolved to cross with the troops to the city
that very night.
Never did retreat require greater secrecy and circumspection. Nine
thousand men, with all the munitions of war, were to be withdrawn from
before a victorious army, encamped so near that every stroke of spade
and pickaxe from their trenches could be heard. The retreating troops,
moreover, were to be embarked and conveyed across a strait
three-quarters of a mile wide, swept by rapid tides. The least alarm
of their movement would bring the enemy upon them, and produce a
terrible scene of confusion and carnage at the place of embarkation.
Washington made the preparatory arrangements with great alertness, yet
profound secrecy. Verbal orders were sent to Colonel Hughes, who acted
as quartermaster-general, to impress all water craft, largo and small,
from Spyt den Duivel on the Hudson round to Hell Gate on the Sound,
and have them on the east side of the city by evening. The order was
issued at noon, and so promptly executed that, although some of the
vessels had to be brought a distance of fifteen miles, they were all
at Brooklyn at eight o'clock in the evening, and put under the
management of Colonel Glover's amphibious Marblehead regiment.
To prepare the army for a general movement without betraying the
object, orders were issued for the troops to hold themselves in
readiness for a night attack upon the enemy. To keep the enemy from
discovering the withdrawal of the Americans until their main body
should have embarked in the boats and pushed off from the shore,
General Mifflin was to remain at the lines with his Pennsylvania
troops, and the gallant remains of Haslet, Smallwood and Hand's
regiments, with guards posted and sentinels alert, as if nothing
extraordinary was taking place; when the main embarkation was
effected, they were themselves to move off quietly, march briskly to
the ferry, and embark.
It was late in the evening when the troops began to retire from the
breastworks. As one regiment quietly withdrew from their station on
guard, the troops on the right and left moved up and filled the
vacancy. There was a stifled murmur in the camp, unavoidable in a
movement of the kind; but it gradually died away in the direction of
the river, as the main body moved on in silence and order. The
youthful Hamilton, whose military merits had won the favor of General
Greene, and who had lost his baggage and a field-piece in the battle,
brought up the rear of the retreating party.
The embarkation went on with all possible despatch, under the vigilant
eye of Washington, who stationed himself at the ferry, superintending
every movement. In his anxiety for despatch, he sent back Colonel
Scammel, one of his aides-de-camp, to hasten forward all the troops
that were on the march. Scammel blundered in executing his errand, and
gave the order to Mifflin likewise. The general instantly called in
his pickets and sentinels, and set off for the ferry.
By this time the tide had turned; there was a strong wind from the
north-east; the boats with oars were insufficient to convey the
troops; those with sails could not make headway against wind and tide.
There was some confusion at the ferry, and in the midst of it, General
Mifflin came down with the whole covering party; adding to the
embarrassment and uproar. "Good God! General Mifflin!" cried
Washington, "I am afraid you have ruined us by so unseasonably
withdrawing the troops from the lines." "I did so by your order,"
replied Mifflin with some warmth. "It cannot be!" exclaimed
Washington. "By G--, I did!" was the blunt rejoinder. "Did Scammel act
as aide-de-camp for the day, or did he not?" "He did." "Then," said
Mifflin, "I had orders through him." "It is a dreadful mistake,"
rejoined Washington, "and unless the troops can regain the lines
before their absence is discovered by the enemy, the most disastrous
consequences are to be apprehended." Mifflin led back his men to the
lines, which had been completely deserted for three-quarters of an
hour. Fortunately, the dense fog had prevented the enemy from
discovering that they were unoccupied. The men resumed their former
posts, and remained at them until called off to cross the ferry.
The fog which prevailed all this time, seemed almost providential.
While it hung over Long Island, and concealed the movements of the
Americans, the atmosphere was clear on the New York side of the river.
The adverse wind, too, died away, the river became so smooth that the
row-boats could be laden almost to the gunwale; and a favoring breeze
sprang up for the sail-boats. The whole embarkation of troops,
artillery, ammunition, provisions, cattle, horses and carts, was
happily effected, and by daybreak the greater part had safely reached
the city, thanks to the aid of Glover's Marblehead men. Scarce
anything was abandoned to the enemy, excepting a few heavy pieces of
artillery. At a proper time, Mifflin with his covering party left the
lines, and effected a silent retreat to the ferry. Washington, though
repeatedly entreated, refused to enter a boat until all the troops
were embarked; and crossed the river with the last.
This extraordinary retreat, which, in its silence and celerity,
equalled the midnight fortifying of Bunker's Hill, was one of the most
signal achievements of the war, and redounded greatly to the
reputation of Washington, who, we are told, for forty-eight hours
preceding the safe extricating of his army from their perilous
situation, scarce closed his eyes, and was the greater part of the
time on horseback.