ARMY ARRANGEMENTS—WASHINGTON AT WHITE PLAINS—THE ENEMY AT THROG’S
POINT—SKIRMISH OF COLONEL GLOVER—ATTEMPT TO SURPRISE ROGERS, THE
RENEGADE—TROOPERS IN A ROUGH COUNTRY—ALARMS AT WHITE PLAINS—CANNONADING
OF SHIPS AT FORT WASHINGTON—MARCH OF LEE—FORTIFIED CAMP AT WHITE
PLAINS—RECONNOITRING—THE AFFAIR AT CHATTERTON HILL—RELATIVE SITUATION OF
THE ARMIES—CHANGE OF POSITION—CONTRAST OF THE APPEARANCE OF THE
TROOPS—GEORGE CLINTON’S IDEA OF STRATEGY—MOVEMENT OF THE BRITISH
ARMY—INCENDIARIES AT WHITE PLAINS.
Previous to decamping from Manhattan Island, Washington formed four
divisions of the army, which were respectively assigned to Generals Lee,
Heath, Sullivan (recently obtained in exchange for General Prescott),
and Lincoln. Lee was stationed on Valentine’s Hill on the mainland,
immediately opposite King’s Bridge, to cover the transportation across
it of the military stores and heavy baggage. The other divisions were to
form a chain of fortified posts, extending about thirteen miles along a
ridge of hills on the west side of the Bronx, from Lee’s camp up to the
village of White Plains.
Washington’s head-quarters continued to be on Harlem Heights for several
days, during which time he was continually in the saddle, riding about a
broken, woody, and half wild country, forming posts, and choosing sites
for breastworks and redoubts. By his skilful disposition of the army, it
was protected in its whole length by the Bronx, a narrow but deep
stream, fringed with trees, which ran along the foot of the ridge; at
the same time his troops faced and outflanked the enemy, and covered the
roads along which the stores and baggage had to be transported. On the
21st, he shifted his head-quarters to Valentine’s Hill, and on the 23d
to White Plains, where he stationed himself in a fortified camp.
While he was thus incessantly in action, General, now Sir William Howe
(having recently, in reward for his services, been made a knight
companion of the Bath), remained for six days passive in his camp on
Throg’s Point, awaiting the arrival of supplies and reinforcements,
instead of pushing across to the Hudson, and throwing himself between
Washington’s army and the upper country. His inaction lost him a golden
opportunity. By the time his supplies arrived, the Americans had broken
up the causeway leading to the mainland, and taken positions too strong
to be easily forced.
Finding himself headed in this direction, Sir William reembarked part of
his troops in flat-boats on the 18th, crossed Eastchester Bay, and
landed on Pell’s Point, at the mouth of Hutchinson’s River. Here he was
joined in a few hours by the main body, with the baggage and artillery,
and proceeded through the manor of Pelham towards New Rochelle; still
with a view to get above Washington’s army.
In their march, the British were waylaid and harassed by Colonel Glover
of Massachusetts, with his own, Reed’s, and Shepard’s regiments of
infantry. Twice the British advance guard were thrown into confusion and
driven back with severe loss, by a sharp fire from behind stone fences.
A third time they advanced in solid columns. The Americans gave them
repeated volleys, and then retreated with the loss of eight killed and
thirteen wounded, among whom was Colonel Shepard. Colonel Glover, and
the officers and soldiers who were with him in this skirmish, received
the public thanks of Washington for their merit and good behavior.
On the 21st, General Howe was encamped about two miles north of New
Rochelle, with his outposts extending to Mamaroneck on the Sound. At the
latter place was posted Colonel Rogers, the renegade, as he was called,
with the Queen’s Rangers, his newly-raised corps of loyalists.
Hearing of this, Lord Stirling resolved, if possible, to cut off this
outpost and entrap the old hunter. Colonel Haslet, of his brigade,
always prompt on such occasions, undertook the exploit at the head of
seven hundred and fifty of the Delaware troops, who had fought so
bravely on Long Island. With these he crossed the line of the British
march; came undiscovered upon the post; drove in the guard; killed a
lieutenant and several men, and brought away thirty-six prisoners, with
a pair of colors, sixty stands of arms, and other spoils. He missed the
main prize, however,—Rogers skulked off in the dark at the first fire.
He was too old a partisan to be easily entrapped.
For this exploit, Colonel Haslet and his men were publicly thanked by
Lord Stirling, on parade.
These, and other spirited and successful skirmishes, while they retarded
the advance of the enemy, had the far more important effect of
exercising and animating the American troops, and accustoming them to
danger.
While in this neighborhood, Howe was reinforced by a second division
of Hessians under General Knyphausen, and a regiment of Waldeckers,
both of which had recently arrived in New York. He was joined, also,
by the whole of the seventeenth light dragoons, and a part of the
sixteenth, which had arrived on the 3d instant from Ireland, with
Lieutenant-colonel (afterwards Earl) Harcourt. Some of their horses
had been brought with them across the sea, others had been procured
since their arrival.
The Americans at first regarded these troopers with great dread.
Washington, therefore, took pains to convince them, that in a rough,
broken country, like the present, full of stone fences, no troops were
so inefficient as cavalry. They could be waylaid and picked off by sharp
shooters from behind walls and thickets, while they could not leave the
road to pursue their covert foe.
Further to inspirit them against this new enemy, he proclaimed, in
general orders, a reward of one hundred dollars for every trooper
brought in with his horse and accoutrements, and so on, in proportion to
the completeness of the capture.
On the 25th, about two o’clock in the afternoon, intelligence was
brought to head-quarters that three or four detachments of the enemy
were on the march, within four miles of the camp, and the main army
following in columns. The drums beat to arms; the men were ordered to
their posts; an attack was expected. The day passed away, however,
without any demonstration of the enemy. Howe detached none of his force
on lateral expeditions, evidently meditating a general engagement. To
prepare for it, Washington drew all his troops from the posts along the
Bronx into the fortified camp at White Plains. Here every thing remained
quiet but expectant, throughout the 26th. In the morning of the 27th,
which was Sunday, the heavy booming of cannon was heard from a distance,
seemingly in the direction of Fort Washington. Scouts galloped off to
gain intelligence. We will anticipate their report.
Two of the British frigates, at seven o’clock in the morning, had moved
up the Hudson, and come to anchor near Bourdett’s Ferry, below the
Morris House, Washington’s old head-quarters, apparently with the
intention of stopping the ferry, and cutting off the communication
between Fort Lee and Fort Washington. At the same time, troops made
their appearance on Harlem Plains, where Lord Percy held command.
Colonel Morgan immediately manned the lines with troops from the
garrison of Fort Washington. The ships opened a fire to enfilade and
dislodge them. A barbette battery on the cliffs of the Jersey shore,
left of the ferry, fired down upon the frigate, but with little effect.
Colonel Magaw got down an eighteen-pounder to the lines near the Morris
House, and fired fifty or sixty rounds, two balls at a time. Two
eighteen-pounders were likewise brought down from Fort Lee, and planted
opposite the ships. By the fire from both shores they were hulled
repeatedly.
It was the thundering of these cannonades which had reached Washington’s
camp at White Plains, and even startled the Highlands of the Hudson. The
ships soon hoisted all sail. The foremost slipped her cable, and
appeared to be in the greatest confusion. She could make no way, though
towed by two boats. The other ship seeing her distress, sent two barges
to her assistance, and by the four boats she was dragged out of reach of
the American fire, her pumps going all the time. “Had the tide been
flood one half hour longer,” writes General Greene, “we should have sunk
her.”
At the time that the fire from the ships began, Lord Percy brought up
his field-pieces and mortars, and made an attack upon the lines. He was
resolutely answered by the troops sent down from Fort Washington, and
several Hessians were killed. An occasional firing was kept up until
evening, when the ships fell down the river, and the troops which had
advanced on Harlem Plains drew within their lines again.
“We take this day’s movement to be only a feint,” writes one of the
garrison at Fort Lee; “at any rate, it is little honorable to the red
coats.” Its chief effect was to startle the distant camp, and astound a
quiet country with the thundering din of war.
The celebrated Thomas Paine, author of “The Rights of Man,” and other
political works, was a spectator of the affair from the rocky summit of
the Palisades, on the Jersey shore.
While these things were passing at Fort Washington, Lee had struck his
tents, and with the rear division, eight thousand strong, the baggage
and artillery, and a train of waggons four miles long, laden with stores
and ammunition, was lumbering along the rough country roads to join the
main army. It was not until Monday morning, after being on the road all
night, that he arrived at White Plains.
Washington’s camp was situated on high ground, facing the east. The
right wing stretched towards the south along a rocky hill, at the foot
of which the Bronx, making an elbow, protected it in flank and rear. The
left wing rested on a small, deep lake among the hills. The camp was
strongly intrenched in front.
About a quarter of a mile to the right of the camp, and separated from
the height on which it stood by the Bronx and a marshy interval, was a
corresponding height called Chatterton’s Hill. As this partly commanded
the right flank, and as the intervening bend of the Bronx was easily
passable, Washington had stationed on its summit a militia regiment.
The whole encampment was a temporary one, to be changed as soon as the
military stores collected there could be removed; and now that General
Lee was arrived, Washington rode out with him, and other general
officers who were off duty, to reconnoitre a height which appeared more
eligible. When arrived at it, Lee pointed to another on the north, still
more commanding. “Yonder,” said he, “is the ground we ought to occupy.”
“Let us go, then, and view it,” replied Washington. They were gently
riding in that direction, when a trooper came spurring up his panting
horse. “The British are in the camp, sir!” cried he. “Then, gentlemen,”
said Washington, “we have other business to attend to than
reconnoitring.” Putting spurs to his horse, he set off for the camp at
full gallop, the others spurring after him.
Arrived at head-quarters, he was informed by Adjutant-general Reed, that
the picket guards had all been driven in, and the enemy were advancing:
but that the whole American army was posted in order of battle.
“Gentlemen,” said Washington, turning calmly to his companions, “you
will return to your respective posts, and do the best you can.”
Apprehensive that the enemy might attempt to get possession of
Chatterton’s Hill, he detached Colonel Haslet with his Delaware
regiment, to reinforce the militia posted there. To these he soon added
General McDougall’s brigade, composed of Smallwood’s Marylanders,
Ritzema’s New Yorkers, and two other regiments. These were much reduced
by sickness and absence. General McDougall had command of the whole
force upon the hill, which did not exceed 1,600 men.
These dispositions were scarcely made, when the enemy appeared
glistening on the high grounds beyond the village of White Plains. They
advanced in two columns, the right commanded by Sir Henry Clinton, the
left by the Hessian general, De Heister. There was also a troop of
horse; so formidable in the inexperienced eyes of the Americans. “It was
a brilliant but formidable sight,” writes Heath in his memoirs. “The sun
shone bright, their arms glittered; and perhaps troops never were shown
to more advantage.”
For a time they halted in a wheat field, behind a rising ground, and the
general officers rode up in the centre to hold a consultation.
Washington supposed they were preparing to attack him in front, and such
indeed was their intention; but the commanding height of Chatterton’s
Hill had caught Sir William’s eye, and he determined first to get
possession of it.
Colonel Rahl was accordingly detached with a brigade of Hessians, to
make a circuit southwardly round a piece of wood, cross the Bronx about
a quarter of a mile below, and ascend the south side of the hill; while
General Leslie, with a large force, British and Hessian, should advance
directly in front, throw a bridge across the stream, and charge up the
hill.
A furious cannonade was now opened by the British from fifteen or twenty
pieces of artillery, placed on high ground opposite the hill; under
cover of which, the troops of General Leslie hastened to construct the
bridge. In so doing, they were severely galled by two field-pieces,
planted on a ledge of rock on Chatterton’s Hill, and in charge of
Alexander Hamilton, the youthful captain of artillery. Smallwood’s
Maryland battalion, also, kept up a sharp fire of small arms.
As soon as the bridge was finished, the British and Hessians under
Leslie rushed over it, formed, and charged up the hill to take
Hamilton’s two field-pieces. Three times the two field-pieces were
discharged, ploughing the ascending columns from hill-top to river,
while Smallwood’s “blue and buff” Marylanders kept up their volleys of
musketry.
In the mean time, Rahl and his Hessian brigade forded the Bronx lower
down, pushed up the south side of the hill, and endeavored to turn
McDougall’s right flank. The militia gave the general but little
support. They had been dismayed at the opening of the engagement by a
shot from a British cannon, which wounded one of them in the thigh, and
nearly put the whole to flight. It was with the utmost difficulty
McDougall had rallied them, and posted them behind a stone wall. Here
they did some service, until a troop of British cavalry, having gained
the crest of the hill, came on, brandishing their sabres. At their first
charge the militia gave a random, scattering fire, then broke, and fled
in complete confusion.
A brave stand was made on the summit of the hill by Haslet, Ritzema, and
Smallwood, with their troops. Twice they repulsed horse and foot,
British and Hessians, until, cramped for room and greatly outnumbered,
they slowly and sullenly retreated down the north side of the hill,
where there was a bridge across the Bronx. Smallwood remained upon the
ground for some time after the retreat had begun, and received two flesh
wounds, one in the hip, the other through the arm. At the bridge over
the Bronx, the retreating troops were met by General Putnam, who was
coming to their assistance with Beall’s brigade. In the rear of this
they marched back into the camp.
The loss on both sides, in this short but severe action, was nearly
equal. That of the Americans was between three and four hundred men,
killed, wounded, and taken prisoners. At first it was thought to be much
more, many of the militia and a few of the regulars being counted as
lost, who had scattered themselves among the hills, but afterwards
returned to head-quarters.
The British army now rested with their left wing on the hill they had
just taken, and which they were busy intrenching. They were extending
their right wing to the left of the American lines, so that their two
wings and centre formed nearly a semicircle. It was evidently their
design to outflank the American camp, and get in the rear of it. The
day, however, being far advanced, was suffered to pass without any
further attack; but the morrow was looked forward to for a deadly
conflict. Washington availed himself of this interval to have the sick
and wounded, and as much of the stores as possible, removed from the
camp. “The two armies,” says General Heath in his Memoirs, “lay looking
at each other, within long cannon shot. In the night time the British
lighted up a vast number of fires, the weather growing pretty cold.
These fires, some on the level ground, some at the foot of the hills,
and at all distances to their brows, some of which were lofty, seemed to
the eye to mix with the stars. The American side doubtless exhibited to
them a similar appearance.”
During this anxious night, Washington was assiduously occupied throwing
back his right wing to stronger ground; doubling his intrenchments and
constructing three redoubts, with a line in front, on the summit of his
post. These works were principally intended for defence against small
arms, and were thrown up with a rapidity that to the enemy must have
savored of magic. They were, in fact, made of the stalks of Indian corn
or maize taken from a neighboring corn-field, and pulled up with the
earth clinging in masses to the large roots. “The roots of the stalks,”
says Heath, “and earth on them placed in the face of the works, answered
the purpose of sods and fascines. The tops being placed inwards, as the
loose earth was thrown upon them, became as so many trees to the work,
which was carried up with a despatch scarcely conceivable.”
In the morning of the 29th, when Howe beheld how greatly Washington had
improved his position and strengthened it, by what appeared to be
solidly constructed works, he postponed his meditated assault, ordered
up Lord Percy from Harlem with the fourth brigade and two battalions of
the sixth, and proceeded to throw up lines and redoubts in front of the
American camp, as if preparing to cannonade it. As the enemy were
endeavoring to outflank him, especially on his right wing, Washington
apprehended one of their objects might be to advance a part of their
force, and seize on Pine’s Bridge over Croton River, which would cut off
his communication with the upper country. General Beall, with three
Maryland regiments, was sent off with all expedition to secure that
pass. It was Washington’s idea that, having possession of Croton River
and the passes in the Highlands, his army would be safe from further
pursuit, and have time to repose after its late excessive fatigue, and
would be fresh, and ready to harass the enemy should they think fit to
winter up the country.
At present nothing could exceed the war-worn condition of the troops,
unseasoned as they were to this kind of service. A scornful letter,
written at this time by a British officer, to his friend in London,
gives a picture of the ragged plight to which they were reduced, in this
rainy and inclement season. “The rebel army are in so wretched a
condition as to clothing and accoutrements, that I believe no nation
ever saw such a set of tatterdemalions. There are few coats among them
but what are out at elbows, and in a whole regiment there is scarce a
pair of breeches. Judge, then, how they must be pinched by a winter’s
campaign. We, who are warmly clothed and well equipped, already feel it
severely; for it is even now much colder than I ever felt it in
England.”
Alas for the poor half-naked, weather-beaten patriots, who had to cope
with these well-fed, well-clad, well-appointed mercenaries! A letter
written at the very same date (October 31), by General George Clinton,
shows what, in their forlorn plight, they had to grapple with.
“We had reason,” writes he, “to apprehend an attack last night, or by
daylight this morning. Our lines were manned all night in consequence;
and a most horrid night it was to lay in cold trenches. Uncovered as we
are, daily on fatigue, making redoubts, fleches, abattis, and retreating
from them and the little temporary huts made for our comfort before they
are well finished, I fear will ultimately destroy our army without
fighting.”[124] “However,” adds he, honestly, “I would not be understood
to condemn measures. They may be right for aught I know. I do not
understand much of the refined art of war; it is said to consist in
stratagem and deception.” In a previous letter to the same friend, in a
moment of hurry and alarm, he writes, “Pray let Mrs. Clinton know that I
am well, and that she need not be uneasy about me. It would be too much
honor to die in so good a cause.”
Clinton, as we have before intimated, was an honest and ardent patriot,
of resolute spirit, and plain, direct good sense; but an inexperienced
soldier. His main idea of warfare was straightforward fighting; and he
was greatly perplexed by the continual strategy which Washington’s
situation required. One of the aides-de-camp of the latter had a truer
notion on the subject. “The campaign hitherto,” said he, “has been a
fair trial of generalship, in which I flatter myself we have had the
advantage. If we, with our motley army, can keep Mr. Howe and his grand
appointment at bay, I think we shall make no contemptible military
figure.”[125]
On the night of the 31st, Washington made another of those moves which
perplexed the worthy Clinton. In the course of the night he shifted his
whole position, set fire to the barns and out-houses containing forage
and stores, which there was no time to remove, and, leaving a strong
rear-guard on the heights, and in the neighboring woods, retired with
his main army a distance of five miles, among the high, rocky hills
about Northcastle. Here he immediately set to work to intrench and
fortify himself; his policy at this time being, as he used to say, “to
fight with the spade and mattock.”
General Howe did not attempt to dislodge him from this fastness. He at
one time ordered an attack on the rear-guard, but a violent rain
prevented it, and for two or three days he remained seemingly inactive.
“All matters are as quiet as if the enemy were one hundred miles distant
from us,” writes one of Washington’s aides on the 2d of November. During
the night of the 4th, this quiet was interrupted. A mysterious sound was
heard in the direction of the British camp; like the rumbling of waggons
and artillery. At daybreak the meaning of it was discovered. The enemy
were decamping. Long trains were observed, defiling across the hilly
country, along the roads leading to Dobbs’ Ferry on the Hudson. The
movement continued for three successive days, until their whole force,
British and Hessians, disappeared from White Plains.
The night after their departure a party of Americans, heated with
liquor, set fire to the court-house and other edifices in the village,
as if they had belonged to the enemy; an outrage which called forth a
general order from Washington, expressive of his indignation, and
threatening the perpetrators with signal punishment when detected. We
notice this matter, because in British accounts, the burning of those
buildings had been charged upon Washington himself; being, no doubt,
confounded with the burning of the barns and out-houses ordered by him
on shifting his encampment.