THE BATTLE OF LONG ISLAND.
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.
“They are the best disciplined of any troops that I have yet seen in the
army,” said General Heath, who had just reviewed them. General George
Clinton was at that post, with about fourteen hundred of his yeomanry of
the Hudson. As the Phœnix and Rose had explored the shores, and taken
the soundings as far as they had gone up the river, General Heath
thought Howe might attempt an attack somewhere above King’s Bridge,
rather than in the face of the many and strong works erected in and
around the city. “Should his inclination lead him this way,” adds be,
“nature has done much for us, and we shall, as fast as possible, and the
strength of art. We are pushing our works with great diligence.”[94]
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, as General Heath suggested. 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.
Washington saw that to prevent the enemy from landing on Long Island
would be impossible, its great extent affording so many places favorable
for that purpose, and the American works being at the part opposite to
New York. “However,” writes he to the President of Congress, “we shall
attempt to harass them as much as possible, which is all that we can
do.”
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. The spy declared that he had heard
orders read, and the conversation of the generals. “They appear very
determined,” added he, “and will put all to the sword!”
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. “Be cool, but determined,” was the
exhortation given to the departing troops. “Do not fire at a distance,
but wait the commands of your officers. It is the general’s express
orders, that if any man attempt to skulk, lie down, or retreat without
orders, he be instantly shot down for an example.”
In justice to the poor fellows, most of whom were going for the first
time on a service of life and death, Washington observes, that “they
went off in high spirits,” and that the whole capable of duty evinced
the same cheerfulness.[95]
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.
Lord 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.
It was evidently the aim of the enemy to force the lines at Brooklyn,
and get possession of the heights. Should they succeed, New York would
be at their mercy. The panic and distress of the inhabitants went on
increasing. Most of those who could afford it, had already removed to
the country. There was now a new cause of terror. It was rumored that,
should the American army retreat from the city, leave would be given for
any one to set it on fire. The New York Convention apprised Washington
of this rumor. “I can assure you, gentlemen,” writes he in reply, “that
this report is not founded on the least authority from me. On the
contrary, I am so sensible of the value of such a city, and the
consequences of its destruction to many worthy citizens and their
families, that nothing but the last necessity, and that such as would
justify me to the whole world, would induce me to give orders to that
purpose.”
In this time of general alarm, head-quarters were besieged by applicants
for safeguard from the impending danger; and Washington was even beset
in his walks by supplicating women with their children. The patriot’s
heart throbbed feelingly under the soldier’s belt. Nothing could surpass
the patience and benignant sympathy with which he listened to them, and
endeavored to allay their fears. Again he urged the Convention to carry
out their measures for the removal of these defenceless beings. “There
are many,” writes he, “who anxiously wish to remove, but have not the
means.”
On the 24th he 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 Hann, 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. Lines
of defence were to be formed round the encampment, and works on the most
advantageous ground. Guards were to be stationed on the lines, with a
brigadier of the day constantly at hand to see that orders were
executed. Field-officers were to go the rounds and report the situation
of the guards, and no one was to pass beyond the lines without a special
permit in writing. At the same time, partisan and scouting parties,
under proper officers, and with regular license, might sally forth to
harass the enemy, and prevent their carrying off the horses and cattle
of the country people.
Especial attention was called to the wooded hills between the works and
the enemy’s camp. The passes through them were to be secured by
_abatis_, and defended by the best troops, who should, at all hazards,
prevent the approach of the enemy. The militia being the least tutored
and experienced, might man the interior works.
Putnam crossed with alacrity to his post. “He was made happy,” writes
Colonel Reed, “by obtaining leave to go over. The brave old man was
quite miserable at being kept here.”
In the mean time, 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. By the aid of his
telescope, he had noticed that from time to time tents were struck on
Staten Island, and portions of the encampment broken up; while ship
after ship weighed anchor, and dropped down to the Narrows.
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. These were troops which Washington
regarded with peculiar satisfaction, on account of their soldierlike
appearance and discipline.
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. It was preparatory to this
nocturnal march, that Sir Henry during the day had fallen back with his
troops from Flatbush to Flatlands, and caused that stir and movement
which had attracted the notice of Washington.
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 mean time, 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
homespun. They turned out with great alacrity, and Stirling pushed
forward with them on the road toward 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 mean time,
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 mean time 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. We give the words of one who mingled in the fight, and whom
we have heard speak with horror of the sanguinary fury with which the
Hessians plied the bayonet. 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. The forbearance of the latter in not
advancing, though so superior in force, had been misinterpreted by the
Americans. According to Colonel Haslet’s statement, the Delawares and
Marylanders, drawn up on the side of the hill, “stood upwards of four
hours, with a firm and determined countenance, in close array, their
colors flying, the enemy’s artillery playing on them all the while, _not
daring to advance and attack them_, though six times their number, and
nearly surrounding them.”[96]
Washington 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, Stirling
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!”[97]
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. We soon fell in with a
party of the enemy, who clubbed their firelocks, and waved their hats to
us as if they meant to surrender as prisoners; but on our advancing
within sixty yards, they presented their pieces and fired, which we
returned with so much warmth that they soon quitted their post, and
retired to a large body that was lying in ambuscade.”[98]
The enemy rallied, and returned to the combat with additional force.
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, most of them of
Smallwood’s regiment, 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, and entered the camp covered with mud and drenched with
water, but bringing with them twenty-three prisoners, and their standard
tattered by grape-shot.
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.[99]
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.[100]
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. In
fact, he knew not the superior number of the enemy encamped on Long
Island, a majority of them having been furtively landed in the night,
some days after the debarkation of the first division.
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. Sullivan, though in his letters he professes to have considered
himself subordinate to General Putnam within the lines, seems still to
have exercised somewhat of an independent command, and to have acted at
his own discretion: while Lord Stirling was said to have command of all
the troops outside of the works.
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.
This able and fatal scheme of the enemy might have been thwarted, had
the army been provided with a few troops of light-horse, to serve as
videttes. With these to scour the roads and bring intelligence, the
night march of Sir Henry Clinton, so decisive of the fortunes of the
day, could hardly have failed to be discovered and reported. The
Connecticut horsemen, therefore, ridiculed by the Southerners for their
homely equipments, sneered at as useless, and dismissed for standing on
their dignity and privileges as troopers, might, if retained, have saved
the army from being surprised and severed, its advanced guards routed,
and those very Southern troops cut up, captured, and almost annihilated.