FORTIFIED CAMP AT KING’S BRIDGE—AMERICAN AND BRITISH LINES—THE MORRIS
HOUSE—ALEXANDER HAMILTON—THE ENEMY ADVANCE—SUCCESSFUL SKIRMISH—DEATH OF
KNOWLTON—GREAT FIRE IN NEW YORK—REORGANIZATION OF THE ARMY—EXCHANGE OF
PRISONERS—DANIEL MORGAN REGAINED—DE LANCEY’S TORY BRIGADE—ROBERT ROGERS,
THE PARTISAN—HIS RANGERS—THE ROEBUCK, PHŒNIX, AND TARTAR IN THE
HUDSON—MILITARY MOVEMENTS BY LAND AND WATER—LETTER OF JOHN JAY.
The fortified camp, where the main body of the army was now assembled,
was upon that neck of land several miles long, and for the most part not
above a mile wide, which forms the upper part of Manhattan or New York
Island. It forms a chain of rocky heights, and is separated from the
mainland by Harlem River, a narrow strait, extending from Hell Gate on
the Sound, to Spyt den Duivel, a creek or inlet of the Hudson. Fort
Washington occupied the crest of one of the rocky heights above
mentioned, overlooking the Hudson, and about two miles north of it was
King’s Bridge, crossing Spyt den Duivel Creek, and forming at that time
the only pass from Manhattan Island to the mainland.
About a mile and a half south of the fort, a double row of lines
extended across the neck from Harlem River to the Hudson. They faced
south towards New York, were about a quarter of a mile apart, and were
defended by batteries.
There were strong advanced posts, about two miles south of the outer
line; one on the left of Harlem, commanded by General Spencer, the other
on the right, at what was called McGowan’s Pass, commanded by General
Putnam. About a mile and a half beyond these posts the British lines
extended across the island from Horen’s Hook to the Hudson, being a
continuous encampment, two miles in length, with both flanks covered by
shipping. An open plain intervened between the hostile camps.
Washington had established his head-quarters about a quarter of a mile
within the inner line; at a country-seat, the owners of which were
absent. It belonged in fact to Colonel Roger Morris, his early companion
in arms in Braddock’s campaign, and his successful competitor for the
hand of Miss Mary Philipse. Morris had remained in America, enjoying the
wealth he had acquired by his marriage; but had adhered to the royal
party, and was a member of the council of the colony. It is said that at
this time he was residing in the Highlands at Beverley, the seat of his
brother-in-law, Washington’s old friend, Beverley Robinson.[117]
While thus posted, Washington was incessantly occupied in fortifying the
approaches to his camp by redoubts, _abatis_, and deep intrenchments.
“Here,” said he, “I should hope the enemy, in case of attack, would meet
a defeat, if the generality of our troops would behave with tolerable
bravery; but experience, to my extreme affliction, has convinced me that
it is rather to be wished than expected. However, I trust there are many
who will act like men worthy of the blessings of freedom.” The late
disgraceful scene at Kip’s Bay was evidently rankling in his mind.
In the course of his rounds of inspection, he was struck with the skill
and science displayed in the construction of some of the works, which
were thrown up under the direction of a youthful captain of artillery.
It proved to be the same young officer, Alexander Hamilton, whom Greene
had recommended to his notice. After some conversation with him,
Washington invited him to his marquee, and thus commenced that
intercourse which has indissolubly linked their memories together.
On the morning of the 16th, word was brought to head-quarters that the
enemy were advancing in three large columns. There had been so many
false reports, that Reed, the adjutant-general, obtained leave to sally
out and ascertain the truth. Washington himself soon mounted his horse
and rode towards the advanced posts. On arriving there he heard a brisk
firing. It was kept up for a time with great spirit. There was evidently
a sharp conflict. At length Reed came galloping back with information. A
strong detachment of the enemy had attacked the most advanced post,
which was situated on a hill skirted by a wood. It had been bravely
defended by Lieutenant-colonel Knowlton, Putnam’s favorite officer, who
had distinguished himself at Bunker’s Hill; he had under him a party of
Connecticut rangers, volunteers from different regiments. After
skirmishing for a time, the party had been overpowered by numbers and
driven in, and the outpost was taken possession of by the enemy. Reed
supposed the latter to be about three hundred strong, but they were much
stronger, the main part having been concealed behind a rising ground in
the wood. They were composed of a battalion of light infantry, another
of Royal Highlanders, and three companies of Hessian riflemen; all under
the command of General Leslie.
Reed urged that troops should be sent to support the brave fellows who
had behaved so well. While he was talking with Washington, “the enemy,”
he says, “appeared in open view, and sounded their bugles in the most
insulting manner, as usual after a fox-chase. I never,” adds he, “felt
such a sensation before; it seemed to crown our disgrace.”
Washington, too, was stung by the taunting note of derision; it recalled
the easy triumph of the enemy at Kip’s Bay. Resolved that something
should be done to wipe out that disgrace, and rouse the spirits of the
army, he ordered out three companies from Colonel Weedon’s regiment just
arrived from Virginia, and sent them under Major Leitch, to join
Knowlton’s rangers. The troops thus united were to get in the rear of
the enemy, while a feigned attack was made upon them in front.
The plan was partially successful. As the force advanced to make the
false attack, the enemy ran down the hill, and took what they considered
an advantageous position behind some fences and bushes which skirted it.
A firing commenced between them and the advancing party, but at too
great distance to do much harm on either side. In the mean time,
Knowlton and Leitch, ignorant of this change in the enemy’s position,
having made a circuit, came upon them in flank instead of in rear. They
were sharply received. A vivid contest took place, in which Connecticut
vied with Virginia in bravery. In a little while Major Leitch received
three bullets in his side, and was borne off the field. Shortly
afterward, a wound in the head from a musket ball, brought Knowlton to
the ground. Colonel Reed placed him on his horse, and conveyed him to a
distant redoubt. The men, undismayed by the fall of their leaders,
fought with unflinching resolution under the command of their captains.
The enemy were reinforced by a battalion of Hessians and a company of
chasseurs. Washington likewise sent reinforcements of New England and
Maryland troops. The action waxed hotter and hotter; the enemy were
driven from the wood into the plain and pushed for some distance; the
Americans were pursuing them with ardor, when Washington, having
effected the object of this casual encounter, and being unwilling to
risk a general action, ordered a retreat to be sounded.
It was with difficulty, however, his men could be called off, so excited
were they by the novelty of pursuing an enemy. They retired in good
order; and, as it subsequently appeared, in good season, for the main
body of the enemy were advancing at a rapid rate, and might have
effectually reversed the scene.
Colonel Knowlton did not long survive the action. “When gasping in the
agonies of death,” says Colonel Reed, “all his inquiry was whether he
had driven in the enemy.” He was anxious for the tarnished honor of
Connecticut. He had the dying satisfaction of knowing that his men had
behaved bravely, and driven the enemy in an open field-fight. So closed
his gallant career.
The encounter thus detailed was a small affair in itself, but important
in its effects. It was the first gleam of success in the campaign, and
revived the spirits of the army. Washington sought to turn it to the
greatest advantage. In his general orders, he skilfully distributed
praise and censure. The troops under Leitch were thanked for being the
first to advance upon the enemy; and the New England troops for
gallantly supporting them, and their conduct was honorably contrasted
with that of the recreant troops at Kip’s Bay. Of Knowlton, who had
fallen while gloriously fighting, he spoke as “one who would have done
honor to any country.”
The name of Leitch was given by him for the next day’s parole. That
brave officer died of his wounds on the 1st of October, soothed in his
last moments by that recompense so dear to a soldier’s heart, the
encomium of a beloved commander.
In the dead of the night, on the 20th September, a great light was
beheld by the picket guards, looming up from behind the hills in the
direction of the city. It continued throughout the night, and was at
times so strong that the heavens in that direction appeared to them,
they said, as if in flames. At daybreak huge columns of smoke were still
rising. It was evident there had been a great conflagration in New York.
In the course of the morning Captain Montresor, aide-de-camp to General
Howe, came out with a flag, bearing a letter to Washington on the
subject of an exchange of prisoners. According to Montresor’s account a
great part of the city had been burnt down, and as the night was
extremely windy, the whole might have been so, but for the exertions of
the officers and men of the British army. He implied it to be the act of
American incendiaries, several of whom, he informed Colonel Reed, had
been caught in the fact and instantly shot. General Howe, in his private
correspondence, makes the same assertion, and says they were detected,
and killed on the spot by the enraged troops in garrison.
Enraged troops, with weapons in their hands, are not apt, in a time of
confusion and alarm, to be correct judges of fact, or dispensers of
justice. The act was always disclaimed by the Americans, and it is
certain their commanders knew nothing bout it. We have shown that the
destruction of the city was at one time discussed in a council of war as
a measure of policy, but never adopted, and was expressly forbidden by
Congress.
The enemy were now bringing up their heavy cannon, preparatory to an
attack upon the American camp by the troops and by the ships. What was
the state of Washington’s army? The terms of engagement of many of his
men would soon be at an end, most of them would terminate with the year,
nor did Congress hold out offers to encourage re-enlistments. “We are
now, as it were, upon the eve of another dissolution of the army,”
writes he, “and unless some speedy and effectual measures are adopted by
Congress, our cause will be lost.” Under these gloomy apprehensions, he
borrowed, as he said, “a few moments from the hours allotted to sleep,”
and on the night of the 24th of September, penned an admirable letter to
the President of Congress, setting forth the total inefficiency of the
existing military system, the total insubordination, waste, confusion,
and discontent produced by it among the men, and the harassing cares and
vexations to which it subjected the commanders. Nor did he content
himself with complaining, but, in his full, clear, and sagacious manner,
pointed out the remedies. To the achievements of his indefatigable pen,
we may trace the most fortunate turns in the current of our
revolutionary affairs. In the present instance his representations,
illustrated by sad experience, produced at length a reorganization of
the army, and the establishment of it on a permanent footing. It was
decreed that eighty-eight battalions should be furnished in quotas, by
the different States, according to their abilities. The pay of the
officers was raised. The troops which engaged to serve throughout the
war were to receive a bounty of twenty dollars and one hundred acres of
land, besides a yearly suit of clothes while in service. Those who
enlisted for but three years, received no bounty in land. The bounty to
officers was on a higher ratio. The States were to send commissioners to
the army, to arrange with the commander-in-chief as to the appointment
of officers in their quotas; but, as they might occasionally be slow in
complying with this regulation, Washington was empowered to fill up all
vacancies.
All this was a great relief to his mind. He was gratified, also, by
effecting, after a long correspondence with the British commander, an
exchange of prisoners, in which those captured in Canada were included.
Among those restored to the service were Lord Stirling and Captain
Daniel Morgan. The latter, in reward of his good conduct in the
expedition with Arnold, and of “his intrepid behavior in the assault
upon Quebec where the brave Montgomery fell,” was recommended to
Congress by Washington for the command of a rifle regiment about to be
raised. We shall see how eminently he proved himself worthy of this
recommendation.
About this time information was received that the enemy were enlisting
great numbers of the loyalists of Long Island, and collecting large
quantities of stock for their support. Oliver De Lancey, a leading
loyalist of New York, member of a wealthy family of honorable Huguenot
descent, was a prime agent in the matter. He had recently been appointed
brigadier-general in the royal service, and authorized by General Howe
to raise a brigade of provincials; and was actually at Jamaica, on Long
Island, offering commissions of captain, lieutenant and ensign, to any
respectable person who should raise a company of seventy men; the latter
to receive British pay.
A descent upon Long Island, to counteract these projects, was concerted
by General George Clinton of New York, an General Lincoln of
Massachusetts, but men and water craft were wanting to carry it into
effect, and the “tory enlistments continued.” They were not confined to
Long Island, but prevailed more or less on Staten Island, in the
Jerseys, up the Hudson as far as Dutchess County, and in Westchester
County more especially. Many of the loyalists, it must be acknowledged,
were honorable men, conscientiously engaged in the service of their
sovereign, and anxious to put down what they sincerely regarded as an
unjustifiable rebellion; and among these may be clearly classed the De
Lanceys. There were others, however, of a different stamp, the most
notorious of whom, at this juncture, was one Robert Rogers of New
Hampshire. He had been a worthy comrade of Putnam and Stark, in some of
their early enterprises during the French war, and had made himself
famous as major of a partisan corps called Rogers’ Rangers. Governor
Trumbull described him as a “famous scouter and wood-hunter, skilled in
waylaying, ambuscade, and sudden attack.” His feats of arms had
evidently somewhat of the Indian character. He had since been Governor
of Michilimackinac (1766), and accused of a plot to plunder his own fort
and join the French. At the outbreak of the Revolution he played a
skulking, equivocal part, and appeared ready to join either party. In
1775, Washington had received notice that he was in Canada, in the
service of Carleton, and had been as a spy, disguised as an Indian,
through the American camp at St. Johns.
Recently, on learning that he was prowling about the country under
suspicious circumstances, Washington had caused him to be arrested. On
examination, he declared that he was on his way to offer his secret
services to Congress. He was accordingly sent on to that body, in
custody of an officer. Congress liberated him on his pledging himself in
writing, “on the honor of a gentleman,” not to bear arms against the
American United Colonies in any manner whatever, during the contest with
Great Britain.
Scarcely was he liberated when he forfeited his parole, offered his
services to the enemy, received a colonel’s commission, and was now
actually raising a tory corps to be called the Queen’s Rangers. All such
as should bring recruits to his standard were promised commissions,
portions of rebel lands, and privileges equal to any of his majesty’s
troops.
Of all Americans of note enlisted under the royal standard, this man had
rendered himself the most odious. He was stigmatized as an arrant
renegade, a perfect Judas Iscariot; and his daring, adventurous spirit
and habits of Indian warfare rendered him a formidable enemy.
Nothing perplexed Washington at this juncture more than the conduct of
the enemy. He beheld before him a hostile army, armed and equipped at
all points, superior in numbers, thoroughly disciplined, flushed with
success, and abounding in the means of pushing a vigorous campaign, yet
suffering day after day to elapse unimproved. What could be the reason
of this supineness on the part of Sir William Howe? He must know the
depressed and disorganized state of the American camp; the absolute
chaos that reigned there. Did he meditate an irruption into the Jerseys?
A movement towards Philadelphia? Did he intend to detach a part of his
forces for a winter’s campaign against the South?
In this uncertainty, Washington wrote to General Mercer, of the flying
camp, to keep a vigilant watch from the Jersey shore on the movements of
the enemy, by sea and land, and to station videttes on the Neversink
Heights, to give immediate intelligence should any of the British fleet
put to sea. At the same time he himself practised unceasing vigilance,
visiting the different parts of his camp on horseback. Occasionally he
crossed over to Fort Constitution, on the Jersey shore, of which General
Greene had charge, and, accompanied by him, extended his reconnoitrings
down to Paulus Hook, to observe what was going on in the city and among
the enemy’s ships. Greene had recently been promoted to the rank of
major-general, and now had command of all the troops in the Jerseys. He
had liberty to shift his quarters to Baskingridge or Bergen, as
circumstances might require; but was enjoined to keep up a communication
with the main army, east of the Hudson, so as to secure a retreat in
case of necessity.
The security of the Hudson was at this time an object of great
solicitude with Congress, and much reliance was placed on Putnam’s
obstructions at Fort Washington. Four galleys, mounted with heavy guns
and swivels, were stationed at the chevaux-de-frise, and two new ships
were at hand, which, filled with stones, were to be sunk where they
would block up the channel. A sloop was also at anchor, having on board
a machine, invented by a Mr. Bushnell, for submarine explosion, with
which to blow up the men-of-war; a favorite scheme with General Putnam.
The obstructions were so commanded by batteries on each shore, that it
was thought no hostile ship would be able to pass.
On the 9th of October, however, the Roebuck and Phœnix, each of
forty-four guns, and the Tartar of twenty guns, which had been lying for
some time opposite Bloomingdale, got under way with their three tenders,
at eight o’clock in the morning, and came standing up the river with an
easy southern breeze. At their approach, the galleys and the two ships
intended to be sunk, got under way with all haste, as did a schooner
laden with rum, sugar, and other supplies for the American army, and the
sloop with Bushnell’s submarine machine.
The Roebuck, Phœnix and Tartar, broke through the vaunted barriers as
through a cobweb. Seven batteries kept up a constant fire upon them, yet
a gentleman was observed walking the deck of the second ship as coolly
as if nothing were the matter.[118] Washington, indeed, in a letter to
Schuyler, says “they passed without any kind of damage or interruption;”
but Lord Howe reports to the admiralty that they suffered much in their
masts and rigging, and that a lieutenant, two midshipmen, and six men
were killed, and eighteen wounded.
The hostile ships kept on their course, the American vessels scudding
before them. The schooner was overhauled and captured; a well-aimed shot
sent the sloop and Bushnell’s submarine engine to the bottom of the
river. The two new ships would have taken refuge in Spyt den Duivel
Creek, but fearing there might not be water enough, they kept on and
drove ashore at Philips’ Mills at Yonkers. Two of the galleys got into a
place of safety, where they were protected from the shore; the other two
trusted to outsail their pursuers. The breeze freshened, and the
frigates gained on them fast; at 11 o’clock began to fire on them with
their bow-chasers, and at 12 o’clock overreached them, which caused them
to bear in shore; at half past one the galleys ran aground just above
Dobbs’ Ferry, and lay exposed to a shower of grape-shot. The crews,
without stopping to burn or bilge them, swam on shore, and the enemy
took possession of the two galleys, which were likely to be formidable
means of annoyance in their hands.
One express after another brought Washington word of these occurrences.
First, he sent off a party of rifle and artillery men, with two
twelve-pounders, to secure the new ships which had run aground at
Yonkers. Next, he ordered Colonel Sargent to march up along the eastern
shore with five hundred infantry, a troop of light-horse, and a
detachment of artillery, to prevent the landing of the enemy. Before the
troops arrived at Dobbs’ Ferry the ships’ boats had plundered a store
there, and set it on fire.
To prevent, if possible, the men-of-war already up the river from coming
down, or others from below joining them, Washington gave orders to
complete the obstructions. Two hulks which lay in Spyt den Duivel Creek,
were hastily ballasted by men from General Heath’s division, and men
were sent up to get off the ships which had run aground at Philips’
Mills, that they might be brought down and sunk immediately.
It is difficult to give an idea of the excitement caused by this new
irruption of hostile ships into the waters of the Hudson, or of the
various conjectures as to their object. They might intend merely to
interrupt navigation, and prevent supplies from coming down to the
American army. They might be carrying arms and ammunition for domestic
enemies skulking about the river, and only waiting an opportunity to
strike a blow. They might have troops concealed on board with intent to
surprise the posts in the Highlands, and cut off the intercourse between
the American armies. To such a degree had the spirit of disaffection
been increased in the counties adjacent to the river, since the descent
of the Rose and Phœnix, by the retreats and evacuation which had taken
place; and so great had been the drain on the militia of those counties
for the army of Washington, that, in case of insurrection, those who
remained at home and were well-affected, would be outnumbered, and might
easily be overpowered, especially with the aid of troops landed from
ships.
While this agitation prevailed below, fugitive river crafts carried the
news up to the Highlands that the frigates were already before Tarrytown
in the Tappan Sea. Word was instantly despatched to Peter R. Livingston,
president of the Provincial Congress, and startled that deliberative
body, which was then seated at Fishkill just above the Highlands. The
committee of safety wrote, on the spur of the moment, to Washington.
“Nothing,” say they, “can be more alarming than the present situation of
our State. We are daily getting the most authentic intelligence of
bodies of men enlisted and armed in order to assist the enemy. We much
fear that they, co-operating with the enemy, may seize such passes as
will cut off the communication between the army and us, and prevent your
supplies. * * * * We beg leave to suggest to your Excellency the
propriety of sending a body of men to the Highlands or Peekskill, to
secure the passes, prevent insurrection, and overawe the disaffected.”
Washington transmitted the letter to the President of Congress on the
12th. “I have ordered up,” writes he, “part of the militia from
Massachusetts, under General Lincoln, to prevent, if possible, the
consequences which they suggest may happen, and which there is reason to
believe the conspirators have in contemplation. I am persuaded that they
are on the eve of breaking out, and that they will leave nothing
unessayed that will distress us, and favor the designs of the enemy, as
soon as their schemes are ripe for it.” In fact, it was said that the
tories were arming and collecting in the Highlands under the direction
of disguised officers, to aid the conspiracies formed by Governor Tryon
and his adherents.
As a further precaution, an express was sent off by Washington to
Colonel Tash, who, with a regiment of New Hampshire militia, was on his
way from Hartford to the camp, ordering him to repair with all possible
dispatch to Fishkill, and there hold himself at the disposition of the
committee of safety.
James Clinton, also, who had charge of the posts in the Highlands, was
put on the alert. That trusty officer was now a brigadier-general,
having been promoted by Congress, on the 8th of August. He was charged
to have all boats passing up and down the river rigidly searched, and
the passengers examined. Beside the usual sentries, a barge, well
manned, was to patrol the river opposite to each fort every night; all
barges, row-boats, and other small craft, between the forts in the
Highlands and the army, were to be secured in a place of safety, to
prevent their falling into the enemy’s hands and giving intelligence.
Moreover, a French engineer was sent up to aid in strengthening and
securing the passes. The commanding officers of the counties of
Litchfield and Fairfield in Connecticut, had, likewise, orders to hold
their militia in readiness to render assistance in case of insurrections
in the State of New York.
So perilous appeared the condition of affairs to residents up the river,
that John Jay, a member of the New York Convention, and one of the
secret committee for the defence of the Hudson, applied for leave of
absence, that he might remove his aged parents to a place of safety. A
letter from him to Edward Rutledge, of the Board of War, contains this
remarkable sentence: “I wish our army well stationed in the Highlands,
and all the lower country desolated; we might then bid defiance to all
the further efforts of the enemy in that quarter.”
Nor was this a random or despairing wish. It shows a brave spirit of a
leading civilian of the day, and the sacrifices that true patriots were
disposed to make in the cause of independence.
But a few days previously he had held the following language to
Gouverneur Morris, chairman of a special committee: “Had I been vested
with absolute power in this State, I have often said, and still think,
that I would last spring have desolated all _Long Island_, _Staten
Island_, the city and county of _New York_, and all that part of the
county of _Westchester_ which lies below the mountains. I would then
have stationed the main body of the army in the mountains on the east,
and eight or ten thousand men in the Highlands on the west side of the
river. I would have directed the river at _Fort Montgomery_, which is
nearly at the southern extremity of the mountains, to be so shallowed as
to afford only depth sufficient for an _Albany_ sloop, and all the
southern passes and defiles in the mountains to be strongly fortified.
Nor do I think the shallowing of the river a romantic scheme. Rocky
mountains rise immediately from the shores. The breadth is not very
great, though the depth is. But what cannot eight or ten thousand men,
well worked, effect? According to this plan of defence the State would
be absolutely impregnable against all the world, on the seaside, and
would have nothing to fear except from the way of the lake. Should the
enemy gain the river, even below the mountains, I think I foresee that a
retreat would become necessary, and I can’t forbear wishing that a
desire of saving a few acres may not lead us into difficulties.”[119]
Three days after this remarkable letter was written, the enemy’s ships
did gain the river; and two days afterwards, October 11th, Reed, the
adjutant-general, the confidant of Washington’s councils, writes to his
wife from Harlem Heights: “My most sanguine views do not extend further
than keeping our ground here till this campaign closes. If the enemy
incline to press us, it is resolved to risk an engagement, for, if we
cannot fight them on this ground, we can on none in America. The ships
are the only circumstances unfavorable to us here.”
On the same day that this letter was written, a small vessel,
sloop-rigged, with a topsail, was descried from Mount Washington, coming
down the river with a fresh breeze. It was suspected by those on the
look-out to be one of the British tenders, and they gave it a shot from
a twelve-pounder. Their aim was unfortunately too true. Three of the
crew were killed and the captain wounded. It proved to be Washington’s
yacht, which had run up the river previously to the enemy’s ships, and
was now on its return.[120]