CHAPTER XXXIV.

PREPARATIONS TO EVACUATE PHILADELPHIA—WASHINGTON CALLS A COUNCIL OF

WAR—LEE OPPOSED TO ANY ATTACK—PHILADELPHIA EVACUATED—MOVEMENTS IN

PURSUIT OF SIR HENRY CLINTON—ANOTHER COUNCIL OF WAR—CONFLICT OF

OPINIONS—CONTRADICTORY CONDUCT OF LEE RESPECTING THE COMMAND—THE

BATTLE OF MONMOUTH COURT HOUSE—SUBSEQUENT MARCH OF THE ARMIES.

The delay of the British to evacuate Philadelphia tasked the sagacity of

Washington, but he supposed it to have been caused by the arrival of the

commissioners from Great Britain. The force in the city in the mean time

had been much reduced. Five thousand men had been detached to aid in a

sudden descent on the French possessions in the West Indies; three

thousand more to Florida. Most of the cavalry with other troops had been

shipped with the provision train and heavy baggage to New York. The

effective force remaining with Sir Henry was now about nine or ten

thousand men; that under Washington was a little more than twelve

thousand Continentals, and about thirteen hundred militia. It had

already acquired considerable proficiency in tactics and field

manœuvring under the diligent instructions of Steuben.

Early in June, it was evident that a total evacuation of the city was on

the point of taking place; and circumstances convinced Washington that

the march of the main body would be through the Jerseys. Some of his

officers thought differently, especially General Lee, who had now the

command of a division composed of Poor, Varnum, and Huntington’s

brigades. Lee, since his return to the army, had resumed somewhat of his

old habit of cynical supervision, and had his circle of admirers, among

whom he indulged in caustic comments on military affairs and the merits

of commanders.

On the present occasion he addressed a letter to Washington, dated June

15th, suggesting other plans which the enemy might have in view.

“Whether they do or do not adopt any of these plans,” added he, “there

can be no inconvenience arise from considering the subject, nor from

devising means of defeating their purposes, on the supposition that they

will.”

Washington, in his reply, gave the suggestions of Lee a candid and

respectful consideration, but in the course of his letter took occasion

to hint a little gentle admonition.

“I shall always be happy,” writes he, “in a free communication of your

sentiments upon any important subject relative to the service, and only

beg that they may come directly to myself. The custom which many

officers have, of speaking freely, and reprobating measures, which, upon

investigation, may be found to be unavoidable, is never productive of

good, but often of very mischievous consequences.”

In consequence probably of the suggestions of Lee, Washington called a

general council of war, on the 17th, to consider what measures to adopt;

whether to undertake any enterprise against the enemy in their present

circumstances—whether the army should remain in its actual position,

until the final evacuation had taken place, or move immediately toward

the Delaware—whether, should the enemy march through the Jerseys, it

would be advisable to attack them while on the way, or to push on

directly to the Hudson, and secure that important communication between

the Eastern and Southern States? In case an attack while on the march

were determined on, should it be a partial or a general one?

Lee spoke eloquently on the occasion. He was opposed to an attack of any

kind. He would make a bridge of gold for the enemy. They were nearly

equal in number to the Americans, and far superior in discipline; in

fact, never had troops been better disciplined. An attack would endanger

the safety of the cause. It was now in a prosperous state, in

consequence of the foreign alliance just formed; all ought not to be put

at risk at the very moment of making such an alliance. He advised merely

to follow the enemy, observe their motions, and prevent them from

committing any excesses.

Lee’s opinions had still great weight with the army; most of the

officers, both foreign and American, concurred with him. Greene,

Lafayette, Wayne, and Cadwalader, thought differently. They could not

brook that the enemy should evacuate the city, and make a long march

through the country unmolested. An opportunity might present itself,

amid the bustle and confusion of departure, or while embarrassed in

defiles with a cumbrous baggage train, of striking some signal blow,

that would indemnify them for all they had suffered in their long and

dreary encampment at Valley Forge.

Washington’s heart was with this latter counsel; but seeing such want of

unanimity among his generals, he requested their opinions in writing.

Before these were given in, word was brought that the enemy had actually

evacuated the city.

Sir Henry had taken his measures with great secrecy and despatch. The

army commenced moving at three o’clock on the morning of the 18th,

retiring to a point of land below the town formed by the confluence of

the Delaware and Schuylkill, and crossing the former river in boats. By

ten o’clock in the morning the rear-guard landed on the Jersey shore.

On the first intelligence of this movement, Washington detached General

Maxwell with his brigade, to co-operate with General Dickinson and the

New Jersey militia in harassing the enemy on their march. He sent

General Arnold, also, with a force to take command of Philadelphia, that

officer being not yet sufficiently recovered from his wound for field

service; then breaking up his camp at Valley Forge, he pushed forward

with his main force in pursuit of the enemy.

As the route of the latter lay along the eastern bank of the Delaware as

high as Trenton, Washington was obliged to make a considerable circuit,

so as to cross the river higher up at Coryell’s Ferry, near the place

where, eighteen months previously, he had crossed to attack the

Hessians.

On the 20th, he writes to General Gates: “I am now with the main body of

the army within ten miles of Coryell’s Ferry. General Lee is advanced

with six brigades, and will cross to-night or to-morrow morning. By the

last intelligence the enemy are near Mount Holly, and moving very

slowly; but as there are so many roads open to them, their route could

not be ascertained. I shall enter the Jerseys to-morrow, and give you

the earliest notice of their movements, and whatever may affect you.”

Heavy rains and sultry summer heat retarded his movements; but the army

crossed on the 24th. The British were now at Moorestown and Mount Holly.

Thence they might take the road on the left for Brunswick, and so on to

Staten Island and New York; or the road to the right through Monmouth,

by the Heights of Middletown to Sandy Hook. Uncertain which they might

adopt, Washington detached Colonel Morgan with six hundred picked men to

reinforce Maxwell, and hang on their rear; while he himself pushed

forward with the main body toward Princeton, cautiously keeping along

the mountainous country to the left of the most northern road.

The march of Sir Henry was very slow. His army was encumbered with

baggage and provisions, and all the nameless superfluities in which

British officers are prone to indulge. His train of wheel carriages and

bat horses was twelve miles in extent. He was retarded by heavy rain and

intolerable heat; bridges had to be built and causeways constructed over

streams and marshes, where they had been destroyed by the Americans.

From his dilatory movements, Washington suspected Sir Henry of a design

to draw him down into the level country, and then, by a rapid movement

on his right, to gain possession of the strong ground above him, and

bring him to a general action on disadvantageous terms. He himself was

inclined for a general action whenever it could be made on suitable

ground: he halted, therefore, at Hopewell, about five miles from

Princeton, and held another council of war while his troops were

reposing and refreshing themselves. The result of it, writes his

aide-de-camp, Colonel Hamilton, “would have done honor to the most

honorable society of midwives, and to them only.”[137] The purport was

to keep at a distance from the enemy, and annoy them by detachments.

Lee, according to Hamilton, was the prime mover of this plan, in

pursuance of which a detachment of fifteen hundred men was sent off

under Brigadier-general Scott, to join the other troops near the enemy’s

line. Lee was even opposed to sending so large a number.

Generals Greene, Wayne, and Lafayette were in the minority in the

council, and subsequently gave separately the same opinion in writing,

that the rear of the enemy should be attacked by a strong detachment,

while the main army should be so disposed as to give a general battle,

should circumstances render it advisable. As this opinion coincided with

his own, Washington determined to act upon it.

Sir Henry Clinton in the mean time had advanced to Allentown, on his way

to Brunswick, to embark on the Raritan. Finding the passage of that

river likely to be strongly disputed by the forces under Washington, and

others advancing from the north under Gates, he changed his plan, and

turned to the right by a road leading through Freehold to Navesink and

Sandy Hook; to embark at the latter place.

Washington, no longer in doubt as to the route of the enemy’s march,

detached Wayne with one thousand men to join the advanced corps, which,

thus augmented, was upwards of four thousand strong. The command of the

advance properly belonged to Lee as senior major-general; but it was

eagerly solicited by Lafayette, as an attack by it was intended, and Lee

was strenuously opposed to every thing of the kind. Washington willingly

gave his consent, provided General Lee were satisfied with the

arrangement. The latter ceded the command without hesitation, observing

to the marquis that he was well pleased to be freed from all

responsibility in executing plans which he was sure would fail.

Lafayette set out on the 25th to form a junction as soon as possible

with the force under General Scott; while Washington, leaving his

baggage at Kingston, moved with the main body to Cranberry, three miles

in the rear of the advanced corps, to be ready to support it.

Scarce, however, had Lee relinquished the command, when he changed his

mind. In a note to Washington, he declared that, in assenting to the

arrangement, he had considered the command of the detachment one more

fitting a young volunteering general than a veteran like himself, second

in command in the army. He now viewed it in a different light. Lafayette

would be at the head of all the Continental parties already in the line;

six thousand men at least; a command next to that of the

commander-in-chief. Should the detachment march, therefore, he entreated

to have the command of it. So far he spoke personally, “but,” added he,

“to speak as an officer, I do not think that this detachment ought to

march at all, until at least the head of the enemy’s right column has

passed Cranberry; then if it is necessary to march the whole army, I

cannot see any impropriety in the marquis’s commanding this detachment,

or a greater, as an advanced guard of the army; but if this detachment,

with Maxwell’s corps, Scott’s, Morgan’s and Jackson’s, is to be

considered as a separate, chosen, active corps, and put under the

marquis’s command until the enemy leave the Jerseys, both myself and

Lord Stirling will be disgraced.”

Washington was perplexed how to satisfy Lee’s punctilious claims without

wounding the feelings of Lafayette. A change in the disposition of the

enemy’s line of march furnished an expedient. Sir Henry Clinton, finding

himself harassed by light troops on the flanks, and in danger of an

attack in the rear, placed all his baggage in front under the convoy of

Knyphausen, while he threw the main strength of his army in the rear

under Lord Cornwallis.

This made it necessary for Washington to strengthen his advanced corps;

and he took this occasion to detach Lee, with Scott’s and Varnum’s

brigades, to support the force under Lafayette. As Lee was the senior

major-general, this gave him the command of the whole advance.

Washington explained the matter in a letter to the marquis, who resigned

the command to Lee when the latter joined him on the 27th. That evening

the enemy encamped on high ground near Monmouth Court House. Lee

encamped with the advance at Englishtown, about five miles distant. The

main body was three miles in his rear.

About sunset, Washington rode forward to the advance, and anxiously

reconnoitred Sir Henry’s position. It was protected by woods and

morasses, and too strong to be attacked with a prospect of success.

Should the enemy, however, proceed ten or twelve miles further

unmolested, they would gain the heights of Middletown, and be on ground

still more difficult. To prevent this, he resolved that an attack should

be made on their rear early in the morning, as soon as their front

should be in motion. This plan he communicated to General Lee, in

presence of his officers, ordering him to make dispositions for the

attack, keeping his troops lying on their arms, ready for action on the

shortest notice; a disposition he intended to observe with his own

troops. This done, he rode back to the main body.

Apprehensive that Sir Henry might decamp in the night, Washington sent

orders to Lee before midnight, to detach six or seven hundred men to lie

near the enemy, watch and give notice of their movements, and hold them

in check when on the march until the rest of the troops could come up.

General Dickinson was charged by Lee with this duty. Morgan was likewise

stationed with his corps to be ready for skirmishing.

Early in the morning, Washington received an express from Dickinson,

informing him that the enemy were in motion. He instantly sent orders to

Lee to push forward and attack them, unless there should be powerful

reasons to the contrary, adding, that he was coming on to support him.

For that purpose he immediately set forward with his own troops,

ordering them to throw by their knapsacks and blankets.

Knyphausen, with the British vanguard, had begun about daybreak to

descend into the valley between Monmouth Court House and Middletown. To

give the long train of waggons and pack horses time to get well on the

way, Sir Henry Clinton with his choice troops remained in camp on the

heights of Freehold, until eight o’clock, when he likewise resumed the

line of march toward Middletown.

In the mean time Lee, on hearing of the early movement of the enemy, had

advanced with the brigades of Wayne and Maxwell, to support the light

troops engaged in skirmishing. The difficulty of reconnoitring a country

cut up by woods and morasses, and the perplexity occasioned by

contradictory reports, embarrassed his movements. Being joined by

Lafayette with the main body of the advance, he had now about four

thousand men at his command, independent of those under Morgan and

General Dickinson.

Arriving on the heights of Freehold, and riding forward with General

Wayne to an open place to reconnoitre, Lee caught sight of a force under

march, but partly hidden from view by intervening woods. Supposing it to

be a mere covering party of about two thousand men, he detached Wayne

with seven hundred men and two pieces of artillery, to skirmish in its

rear and hold it in check; while he, with the rest of his force, taking

a shorter road through the woods, would get in front of it, and cut it

off from the main body. He at the same time sent a message to

Washington, apprising him of this movement and of his certainty of

success.[138]

Washington in the mean time was on his march with the main body, to

support the advance, as he had promised. The booming of cannon at a

distance indicated that the attack so much desired had commenced, and

caused him to quicken his march. Arrived near Freehold church, where the

road forked, he detached Greene with part of his forces to the right, to

flank the enemy in the rear of Monmouth Court House, while he, with the

rest of the column, would press forward by the other road.

Washington had alighted while giving these directions, and was standing

with his arm thrown over his horse, when a countryman rode up and said

the Continental troops were retreating. Washington was provoked at what

he considered a false alarm. The man pointed, as his authority, to an

American fifer who just then came up in breathless affright. The fifer

was ordered into custody to prevent his spreading an alarm among the

troops who were advancing, and was threatened with a flogging should he

repeat the story.

Springing on his horse, Washington had moved forward but a short

distance when he met other fugitives, one in the garb of a soldier, who

all concurred in the report. He now sent forward Colonels Fitzgerald and

Harrison, to learn the truth, while he himself spurred past Freehold

meeting-house. Between that edifice and the morass beyond it, he met

Grayson’s and Patton’s regiments in most disorderly retreat, jaded with

heat and fatigue. Riding up to the officer at their head, Washington

demanded whether the whole advanced corps were retreating. The officer

believed they were.

It seemed incredible. There had been scarce any firing—Washington had

received no notice of the retreat from Lee. He was still almost inclined

to doubt, when the heads of several columns of the advance began to

appear. It was too evident—the whole advance was falling back on the

main body, and no notice had been given to him. One of the first

officers that came up was Colonel Shreve, at the head of his regiment;

Washington, greatly surprised and alarmed, asked the meaning of this

retreat. The colonel smiled significantly—he did not know—he had

retreated by order. There had been no fighting excepting a slight

skirmish with the enemy’s cavalry, which had been repulsed.

A suspicion flashed across Washington’s mind, of wrong-headed conduct on

the part of Lee, to mar the plan of attack adopted contrary to his

counsels. Ordering Colonel Shreve to march his men over the morass, halt

them on the hill beyond and refresh them, he galloped forward to stop

the retreat of the rest of the advance, his indignation kindling as he

rode. At the rear of the regiment he met Major Howard; he, too, could

give no reason for the retreat, but seemed provoked at it—declaring that

he had never seen the like. Another officer exclaimed with an oath that

they were flying from a shadow.

Arriving at a rising ground, Washington beheld Lee approaching with the

residue of his command in full retreat. By this time he was thoroughly

exasperated.

“What is the meaning of all this, sir?” demanded he, in the sternest and

even fiercest tone, as Lee rode up to him.

Lee for a moment was disconcerted, and hesitated in making a reply, for

Washington’s aspect, according to Lafayette, was terrible.

“I desire to know the meaning of this disorder and confusion,” was again

demanded still more vehemently.

Lee, stung by the manner more than the words of the demand, made an

angry reply, and provoked still sharper expressions, which have been

variously reported. He attempted a hurried explanation. His troops had

been thrown into confusion by contradictory intelligence; by

disobedience of orders; by the meddling and blundering of individuals;

and he had not felt disposed, he said, to beard the whole British army

with troops in such a situation.

“I have certain information,” rejoined Washington, “that it was merely a

strong covering party.”

“That may be, but it was stronger than mine, and I did not think proper

to run such a risk.”

“I am very sorry,” replied Washington, “that you undertook the command,

unless you meant to fight the enemy.”

“I did not think it prudent to bring on a general engagement.”

“Whatever your opinion may have been,” replied Washington, disdainfully,

“I expected my orders would have been obeyed.”

This all passed rapidly, and, as it were, in flashes, for there was no

time for parley. The enemy were within a quarter of an hour’s march.

Washington’s appearance had stopped the retreat. The fortunes of the day

were to be retrieved, if possible by instant arrangements. These he

proceeded to make with great celerity. The place was favorable for a

stand; it was a rising ground, to which the enemy could approach only

over a narrow causeway. The rallied troops were hastily formed upon this

eminence. Colonels Stewart and Ramsey, with two batteries, were

stationed in a covert of woods on their left, to protect them and keep

the enemy at bay. Colonel Oswald was posted for the same purpose on a

height, with two field-pieces. The promptness with which every thing was

done showed the effects of the Baron Steuben’s discipline.

In the interim, Lee, being asked about the disposition of some of the

troops, replied that he could give no orders in the matter; as he

supposed General Washington intended he should have no further command.

Shortly after this, Washington, having made all his arrangements with

great dispatch but admirable clearness and precision, rode back to Lee

in calmer mood, and inquired, “Will you retain the command on this

height or not? if you will, I will return to the main body, and have it

formed on the next height.”

“It is equal to me where I command,” replied Lee.

“I expect you will take proper means for checking the enemy,” rejoined

Washington.

“Your orders shall be obeyed; and I shall not be the first to leave the

ground,” was the reply.

A warm cannonade by Oswald, Stewart, and Ramsey, had the desired effect.

The enemy were brought to a stand, and Washington had time to gallop

back and bring on the main body. This he formed on an eminence, with a

wood in the rear and the morass in front. The left wing was commanded by

Lord Stirling, who had with him a detachment of artillery and several

field-pieces. General Greene was on his right.

Lee had maintained his advanced position with great spirit, but was at

length obliged to retire. He brought off his troops in good order across

a causeway which traversed the morass in front of Lord Stirling. As he

had promised, he was the last to leave the ground. Having formed his men

in a line, beyond the morass, he rode up to Washington. “Here, sir, are

my troops,” said he; “how is it your pleasure I should dispose of them?”

Washington saw that the poor fellows were exhausted by marching,

counter-marching, hard fighting and the intolerable heat of the weather:

he ordered Lee, therefore, to repair with them to the rear of

Englishtown, and assemble there all the scattered fugitives he might

meet with.

The batteries under the direction of Lord Stirling opened a brisk and

well-sustained fire upon the enemy; who, finding themselves warmly

opposed in front, attempted to turn the left flank of the Americans, but

were driven back by detached parties of infantry stationed there. They

then attempted the right; but here were met by General Greene, who had

planted his artillery under Knox, on a commanding ground, and not only

checked them but enfiladed those who were in front of the left wing.

Wayne too, with an advanced party posted in an orchard, and partly

sheltered by a barn, kept up a severe and well-directed fire upon the

enemy’s centre. Repeated attempts were made to dislodge him, but in

vain. Colonel Monckton of the royal grenadiers, who had distinguished

himself and been wounded in the battle of Long Island, now undertook to

drive Wayne from his post at the point of the bayonet. Having made a

brief harangue to his men, he led them on in column. Wayne’s men

reserved their fire, until Colonel Monckton, waving his sword, called

out to his grenadiers to charge. At that instant a sheeted volley laid

him low, and made great slaughter in his column, which was again

repulsed.

The enemy at length gave way, and fell back to the ground which Lee had

occupied in the morning. Here their flanks were secured by woods and

morasses, and their front could only be approached across a narrow

causeway.

Notwithstanding the difficulties of the position, Washington prepared to

attack it; ordering General Poor with his own and the Carolina brigade,

to move round upon their right, and General Woodford on their left;

while the artillery should gall them in front. Before these orders could

be carried into effect the day was at an end. Many of the soldiers had

sunk upon the ground, overcome by fatigue and the heat of the weather;

all needed repose. The troops, therefore, which had been in the advance,

were ordered to lie on their arms on the ground they occupied, so as to

be ready to make the attack by daybreak. The main army did the same, on

the field of action, to be at hand to support them. Washington lay on

his cloak at the foot of a tree, with Lafayette beside him, talking over

the strange conduct of Lee; whose disorderly retreat had come so near

being fatal to the army.

It was indeed a matter of general perplexity, to which the wayward

character of Lee greatly contributed. Some who recollected his previous

opposition to all plan of attack, almost suspected him of wilfully

aiming to procure a defeat. It would appear, however, that he had been

really surprised and thrown into confusion by a move of Sir Henry

Clinton, who, seeing the force under Lee descending on his rear from

Freehold heights, had suddenly turned upon it, aided by troops from

Knyphausen’s division, to oblige it to call to its assistance the

flanking parties under Morgan and Dickinson, which were threatening his

baggage train. So that Lee, instead of a mere covering party which he

had expected to cut off, had found himself front to front with the whole

rear division of the British army; and that too, on unfavorable ground,

with a deep ravine and a morass in his rear.

He endeavored to form his troops for action. Oswald’s artillery began to

play, and there was some skirmishing with the enemy’s light-horse, in

which they were repulsed. But mistakes occurred; orders were

misunderstood; one corps after another fell back, until the whole

retreated, almost without a struggle, before an inferior force. Lee,

himself, seemed to partake of the confusion; taking no pains to check

the retrograde movement, nor to send notice of it to the main body upon

which they were falling back.

What opinions Washington gave on the subject, in the course of his

conversation with the marquis, the latter does not tell us; after it was

ended, he wrapped himself in his cloak, and slept at the foot of the

tree, among his soldiers.

At daybreak the drums beat the reveillé. The troops roused themselves

from their heavy sleep, and prepared for action. To their surprise, the

enemy had disappeared: there was a deserted camp, in which were found

four officers and about forty privates, too severely wounded to be

conveyed away by the retreating army. Sir Henry Clinton, it appeared,

had allowed his wearied troops but short repose on the preceding night.

At ten o’clock, when the American forces were buried in their first

sleep, he had set forward to join the division under Knyphausen, which,

with the baggage train, having pushed on during the action, was far on

the road to Middletown. So silent had been his retreat, that it was

unheard by General Poor’s advance party, which lay near by.

The distance to which the enemy must by this time have attained, the

extreme heat of the weather, and the fatigued condition of the troops,

deterred Washington from continuing a pursuit through a country, where

the roads were deep and sandy, and there was great scarcity of water.

Besides, persons well acquainted with the country assured him that it

would be impossible to annoy the enemy in their embarkation, as he must

approach the place by a narrow passage, capable of being defended by a

few men against his whole force. Detaching General Maxwell’s brigade and

Morgan’s rifle corps, therefore, to hang on the rear of the enemy,

prevent depredation and encourage desertions, he determined to shape his

course with his main body by Brunswick toward the Hudson, lest Sir Henry

should have any design upon the posts there.

The American loss in the recent battle was eight officers and sixty-one

privates killed, and about one hundred and sixty wounded. Among the

slain were Lieutenant-colonel Bonner of Pennsylvania, and Major

Dickinson of Virginia, both greatly regretted.

The officers who had charge of the burying parties reported that they

found two hundred and forty-five non-commissioned officers and privates,

and four officers, left dead by the enemy on the field of battle. There

were fresh graves in the vicinity also, into which the enemy had hurried

their slain before retreating. The number of prisoners, including those

found wounded, was upwards of one hundred.

Some of the troops on both sides had perished in the morass, some were

found on the border of a stream which ran through it among alder bushes,

whither, overcome by heat, fatigue and thirst, they had crawled to drink

and die.

Among the gallant slain of the enemy was Colonel Monckton, who fell so

bravely when leading on his grenadiers. His remains were interred in the

burial-ground of the Freehold meeting-house, upon a stone of which

edifice his name is rudely cut.[139]

After giving his troops a day’s repose Washington decamped on the 30th.

His march lay through a country destitute of water, with deep, sandy

roads wearying to the feet, and reflecting the intolerable heat and

glare of a July sun. Many of the troops, harassed by previous fatigue,

gave out by the way. Some few died, and a number of horses were likewise

lost. Washington, ever considerate of the health and comfort of his men,

encamped near Brunswick on open, airy grounds, and gave them time to

repose; while Lieutenant-colonel Aaron Burr, at that time a young and

enterprising officer, was sent on a reconnoitring expedition, to learn

the movements and intentions of the enemy. He was authorized to despatch

trusty persons into New York to make observations, collect reports, and

get newspapers. Others were to be sent to the heights of Bergen, Weehawk

and Hoboken, which command a view of the bay and river, to observe the

situation of the enemy’s forces, and note whether any movement among the

shipping gave signs of an expedition up the Hudson; the immediate object

of solicitude.

Sir Henry Clinton with the royal army had arrived at the Highlands of

Navesink, in the neighborhood of Sandy Hook, on the 30th of June. He had

lost many men by desertion, Hessians especially, during his march

through the Jerseys, which, with his losses by killed, wounded and

captured, had diminished his army more than two thousand men. The storms

of the preceding winter had cut off the peninsula of Sandy Hook from the

main land, and formed a deep channel between them. Fortunately the

squadron of Lord Howe had arrived the day before and was at anchor

within the Hook. A bridge was immediately made across the channel with

the boats of the ships, over which the army passed to the Hook on the

5th of July, and thence was distributed.

It was now encamped in three divisions on Staten Island, Long Island,

and the island of New York: apparently without any immediate design of

offensive operations. There was a vigorous press in New York to man the

large ships and fit them for sea, but this was in consequence of a

report that a French fleet had arrived on the coast.

Relieved by this intelligence from all apprehensions of an expedition by

the enemy up the Hudson, Washington relaxed the speed of his movements,

and halted for a few days at Paramus, sparing his troops as much as

possible during the extreme summer heats.

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