Red Lion, no determined attack had been reported from either the
Flatbush or Bedford roads. The Hessians had made some show of
advancing from Flatbush at an early hour, but they had not as yet
driven in our pickets, although approaching near enough for the guns
at the breastwork on the road to fire upon them. No word had come from
Miles; nothing had been heard from the patrol of officers at the
Jamaica Pass. Whatever tactics the enemy were pursuing, it was evident
that at this hour they had not developed indications of a simultaneous
advance "all along the line." Were they making their principal push
against Stirling? Were they waiting for the fleet to work its way up
to co-operate? or would they still attempt to force the passes and the
hills at all points and overcome the American outguards by sheer
weight of numbers? Whatever theory our generals may have entertained
at this time as to the intentions of the British--a point which we
have no means of determining--it is certain that at about half-past
eight or nine o'clock Major-General Sullivan rode out from the
Brooklyn lines to the Flatbush Pass, with the evident purpose of
examining the situation at that and other points, and of obtaining the
latest information respecting the enemy's movements. We have this
substantially from his own pen: "I went," he says, "to the hill near
Flatbush to reconnoitre the enemy."[145] Nothing more natural, and
nothing more necessary; the situation at that hour required that some
responsible general officer should be in this vicinity to direct the
disposition of the troops the moment the enemy uncovered their plan.
Stirling on the lower road had his hands full, and it became some
one's duty to see that he was not put in danger by any possible mishap
elsewhere on the hills. Sullivan, therefore, the second in command,
went out to "examine" and to "reconnoitre." He had been out the
evening before, making the rounds with Putnam; to him Miles had
reported the situation of affairs on the extreme left; and it was by
his general orders that the last detail of guards had been made for
each of the passes. He was accordingly familiar with the plan of the
outer defence, and upon reaching the Flatbush Pass, where, as Miles
states, he took his station at the redoubt or barricade on the road,
he seems to have given certain directions on the strength of the
information he had obtained. If we may credit the writer of one of the
letters published at the time, the general was told that the main
body of the enemy were advancing by the lower road, "whereupon he
ordered another battalion to the assistance of Lord Stirling, keeping
800 men to guard the pass."[146] It is not difficult to accept this as
a correct statement of what actually occurred, because it is what we
should expect would have taken place under the circumstances. That
Sullivan took out any additional troops with him when he went to the
pass does not appear, but doubtless some were sent there. But as to
this Flatbush Pass, the most that can be said with any degree of
certainty is, that at about nine o'clock in the morning the Hessians
still remained comparatively quiet at the foot of the hills below;
that our guards and pickets stood at their different posts, not in
regular line, but detached on either side of the road, the commander
of each party governing himself as necessity required; that they were
expected to hold that point stubbornly, if for no other purpose now
than to secure Stirling's line of retreat; and that if attacked they
were to be reinforced. At the hour Sullivan reached the pass the
situation at all points appeared to be satisfactory.
[Footnote 145: Most of our writers are led into the error of supposing
that Sullivan was already at the Flatbush Pass, and that when he went
to reconnoitre he started from this point. The general says: "I went
to the Hill near Flatbush to reconnoitre the enemy, and with a picket
of four hundred men was surrounded by the enemy," etc. He went to the
hill--where from? The main camp, necessarily. We already had our
pickets well out in front, and had Sullivan gone beyond these he would
have come upon the Hessians. Besides his position fully overlooked
Flatbush, and no reconnoissance was necessary. Miles states that the
general remained at the redoubt. The quotation above means no more
than that Sullivan went out from the Brooklyn lines, and afterwards
was surrounded and fought with four hundred of the guard who were
there at the Pass with him.]
[Footnote 146: _Document_ 19.]
* * * * *
But little did the Americans suspect that at the very moment their
defence seemed well arranged and their outguards vigilant they were
already in the web which the enemy had been silently weaving around
them during the night. That flanking column! Skilfully had it played
its part in the British plans, and with crushing weight was it now to
fall upon our outpost guards, who felt themselves secure along the
hills and in the woods. Cross again into the opposite camp and follow
the approach of this unlooked-for danger. First, Lord Howe withdrew
Cornwallis from Flatbush to Flatlands towards evening on the 26th,
and at nine o'clock at night set this flanking corps in motion. Sir
Henry Clinton commanded the van, which consisted of the light dragoons
and the brigade of light infantry. Cornwallis and the reserve
immediately followed; and after him marched the First Brigade and the
Seventy-first Regiment, with fourteen pieces of field artillery. These
troops formed the advance corps, and were followed at a proper
interval by Lord Percy and Howe himself, with the Second, Third, and
Fifth brigades, the guards, and ten guns. The Forty-ninth Regiment,
with four twelve-pounders, and the baggage with a separate guard,
brought up the rear. All told, this column was hardly less than ten
thousand strong. With three Flatbush Tories acting as guides, it took
up the march and headed, as Howe reports, "across the country through
the new lots" towards the Jamaica Pass, moving slowly and cautiously
along the road from Flatlands until it reached Shoemaker's Bridge,
which crossed a creek emptying into Jamaica Bay, when the column
struck over the fields to the Jamaica Road, where it came to a halt in
the open lots a short distance south-east of the pass, and directly in
front of Howard's Halfway House.[147]
[Footnote 147: Consult map of the battle-field, Part II.]
Here now occurred one of those incidents which, though insignificant
in themselves, sometimes become fatalities that turn the scale of
battle. The five American officers whom General Sullivan had sent out
the evening before to patrol this pass had stationed themselves at
this time, now between two and three o'clock on the morning of the
27th, a short distance east of Howard's house, apparently waiting for
sounds of the enemy on the line of the road. Evidently they had no
thought of his approach "across lots" from the direction of Flatlands,
or they could not have left the pass unwatched by one or more of the
party. For most of them, this was the first tour of military duty of
so responsible a nature, and whatever mistakes they made may be
referred to their inexperience or ignorance of the relative situation
of the roads in that vicinity. Who had charge of the party does not
appear. So far as known, only one of them, Lieutenant Van Wagenen, had
seen any considerable service; but although something of a veteran,
having entered the army in 1775 and charged with Montgomery upon
Quebec, he could have known nothing of the country he was now
patrolling. Lieutenants Troup and Dunscomb were young Columbia College
graduates of two years' standing, who had eagerly taken up the cause
of the colonists in the midst of adverse associations. Gilliland may
have once been an officer in McDougall's regiment, and Hoogland was
adjutant of Colonel Lasher's battalion. Had these officers, who
without doubt were all mounted, been patrolling at the pass or nearer
the lines, the events of the 27th might have worn a far different
aspect. As it was, the British by coming into the road at Howard's had
put themselves in the rear of the patrol, and its capture was quickly
effected. Captain William Glanville Evelyn, "a gallant officer" of the
Fourth Infantry, or King's Own, and a descendant of the eminent John
Evelyn, of England, led the British advance this night, and it fell to
his fortune to surround and capture all five American officers and
send them immediately to Clinton, who commanded the leading column.
Here was a blow inflicted upon us by the British, the real importance
of which they themselves even were ignorant of, for they had made
prisoners of the only patrol that was watching the Jamaica route from
the pass down to the very lines themselves!
Clinton "interrogated" the prisoners upon the spot, and ascertained
from them that the pass had not been occupied by the Americans. He
then attempted to obtain information of the position at Brooklyn and
the number of troops now there, by pressing the officers with
questions, when Dunscomb, indignant at the advantage he was taking of
their situation, replied to Clinton that "under other circumstances he
would not dare insult them in that manner." For this the young
lieutenant was called "an impudent rebel," and the British officers
threatened to have him hanged. Dunscomb's courage was equal to the
occasion, and, scouting the threat, declared that Washington would
hang man for man in return, and that as for himself he should give
Clinton no further information. But stoutly as Dunscomb and his
fellows maintained their rights and honor as prisoners, their capture
was one of the fatal turns that brought misfortune to the American
army.[148]
[Footnote 148: Hardly one of our modern accounts refers to this patrol
or its capture. The incident, however, affected the situation gravely.
Howe mentions it in his report as follows: "General Clinton being
arrived within half a mile of the pass about two hours before
daybreak, halted, and settled his disposition for the attack. One of
his patrols falling in with a patrol of the enemy's officers took
them; and the General learning from their information that the Rebels
had not occupied the pass, detached a battalion of Light Infantry to
secure it." Gordon says this: "One of his [Clinton's] patrols falls in
with a patrol of American officers on horseback, who are trepanned and
made prisoners." The letter in the _South Carolina Gazette_
(_Document_ 19) is to similar effect: "Five officers were also sent
out on horseback to patrol the last-mentioned road and that leading to
Jamaica, ... and were all made prisoners." Still stronger is the
testimony of a letter to be found in the _Autobiography and
Correspondence of Mary Granville, Mrs. Delany, with Interesting
Reminiscences of George III. and Queen Charlotte, &c., London, 1862_.
"The Hon. Mrs. Boscawen to Mrs. Delany.--_Glan Villa_, 17th Oct.
1776.... To compleat the prosperity of my journey I found on my return
to ye inn the most delightful news of our success on Long Island so
that I had a most agreeable supper and drank health to the noble
brothers [the two Howes]. We have had a letter from Capt. Evelyn from
the field of battle; he was in ye brigade of light infantry, and
took 5 officers prisoners who were sent to observe our motions. He
mentions Dr. Boscawen's son being well, for whom we were in great
care, being the only child. O! to compleat this by good news from N.
York and then peace!" We know who these officers were from several
sources, the most authoritative and important being the documents left
by one of the party himself, Lieutenant Van Wagenen, and now in the
possession of his grandson, Mr. Gerret H. Van Wagenen, of Brooklyn.
This officer had been sent down to Philadelphia in charge of prisoners
from Canada. At this point his deposition states that "on his return
to New York he found the enemy landing upon Long Island, and being a
supernumerary he went to Long Island and offered his services to Gen'l
Sullivan, who requested him, and four other officers, namely, Robert
Troup, Edward Dunscomb, William Guilderland and Jeromus Hooghland, to
go and reconnoitre the enemy, who were observed to be in motion, and
in the various advances on the enemy, fell in with a body of horse and
infantry by whom he and his little party were made prisoners, and
continued a Prisoner for about twenty-two months." Respecting the
questioning of the officers by Clinton, there is good authority.
Lieutenants Troup and Dunscomb, who afterwards rose to the rank of
Lieutenant-colonel and Captain respectively, have daughters still
living in New York, and from their own recollections and from papers
in their possession, the account given in the text is collated. At the
time of Captain Dunscomb's death one or more letters were published by
friends who had the particulars of the incident directly from him.
(See biographical sketches of these officers, Part II.) The sending
out of officers on such duty as was required this night, was not
unusual. The British scouts who preceded the expedition to Lexington
in 1775 were officers in disguise. Similar instances during the war
could be recalled as at Brandywine. Mr. Henry Onderdonk, Jr., of
Jamaica, states, in his carefully compiled and valuable collection of
_Revolutionary Incidents on Long Island_, that the patrol was captured
under a tree east of Howard's House.]
Upon learning that the pass was unguarded, Clinton, as Howe reports,
ordered one of the light infantry battalions to occupy it, and soon
after the main column followed. It would appear, however, that he
still moved cautiously, and that the battalion, or the troops that
followed, avoided a direct approach, and reached the Jamaica Road on
the other side of the pass by a roundabout lane known as the Rockaway
Path. The innkeeper Howard was waked up, and with his son compelled
to guide the British around to the road, where it was discovered, as
the patrol had stated, that the pass was unguarded. When the whole
force had marched through to the other side it was halted for a brief
"rest and refreshment," and then continued down the road to Bedford,
where the van, consisting of dragoons and light infantry, arrived
about half-past eight o'clock in the morning. So this flanking corps
had succeeded in making a slow, difficult, and circuitous march of
some nine miles from Flatlands during the night, and had placed itself
directly in the rear of the left of the American outposts, before its
approach was known in the Brooklyn camp. It was now nearer the lines
than were our picket guards at either of the outposts on the hills,
and by a swift advance down the Jamaica Road and along the Gowanus
Road to its intersection with the Port Road, it could have interposed
itself across every avenue of retreat from the hills to the lines. It
was Howe's plan to cut off the American retreat entirely, but while
successful in reaching our rear he fortunately failed to reap the
fullest advantage of his move. The loss he was now able to inflict
upon us was hardly a third of what might have been possible. But for
the Americans it was more than enough. From this point followed trial
and disaster. The day, which had opened so promisingly on the lower
road, had already, at early dawn, been lost to them at the Jamaica
Pass.
What next happened after the British reached Bedford? What, in the
first place, had Miles been about in the woods on the extreme left
that the enemy should gain his rear before he knew it? Fortunately we
have the colonel himself and his lieutenant-colonel, Brodhead, to tell
us much if they do not explain all. Miles then puts it on record that,
on the day before the engagement, General Sullivan came to his camp,
to whom he reported his belief that when the enemy moved they would
fall into the Jamaica Road, and he hoped there were troops there to
watch them. On the following morning, at about seven o'clock, firing
began at the redoubt on the Flatbush Road, and he immediately marched
in that direction, but was stopped by Colonel Wyllys at the Bedford
Pass, who informed him that he could not pass on, as they were to
defend the Bedford Road. "Colonel Wyllys bearing a Continental, and I
a State commission," says Miles, "he was considered a senior officer,
and I was obliged to submit; but I told him I was convinced the main
body of the enemy would take the Jamaica Road, that there was no
probability of their coming along the road he was then guarding, and
if he would not let me proceed to where the firing was, I would return
and endeavor to get into the Jamaica Road before General Howe. To this
he consented, and I immediately made a retrograde march, and after
marching nearly two miles, the whole distance through woods, I arrived
within sight of the Jamaica Road, and to my great mortification I saw
the main body of the enemy in full march between me and our lines, and
the baggage guard just coming into the road."
Had Miles been surprised? This is one of the problems of the battle.
For four days he had been on the watch on this flank, and now the
British were in his rear! Would he have made that "retrograde" march
this morning, when the strictest attention to one's particular orders
was necessary, unless he had known that there were no troops on the
Jamaica Road, and unless it was a part of his duty to reconnoitre in
that direction? But he was now making a stout effort to find and fight
Howe, and before charging him with a blunder let us follow the battle
to its close.
One of Miles' soldiers hurried into camp and reported to Putnam that
infantry and cavalry were marching down from the Jamaica Pass;[149]
but all too late, for right upon the heels of the information came the
enemy! They pushed down the road from Bedford, and across the country,
to attack the American outguards in the rear, while the Hessians were
to come up in front. So, if we glance over the field again at about
half-past nine or ten o'clock on this eventful morning, we find the
whole aspect changed, and our entire force on the hills apparently
caught in a trap. Stirling was still facing Grant upon the right, but
his rear was in danger; while Sullivan and the picket guards at the
other passes were wedged in between the two powerful columns under
Howe and De Heister. What now was done? Who escaped?
[Footnote 149: _Force_, 5th Series, vol. i., p. 1195.]
Evidently Miles, way out in the woods on the left, had the least
prospect of getting back to the Brooklyn lines. When he found the
British on the road between him and camp he first proposed to attack
their baggage guard and cut his way through to the Sound, but on
consulting his officers (his first battalion alone being with him) he
turned about, determined to attempt a retreat to camp. It was
impossible for him to succeed, for he had a march of full three miles
to make; and after encountering the enemy once or twice in the woods,
he, with many of his men, was compelled to surrender. Brodhead, while
marching through the woods in Indian file to join him, was also
attacked and his men dispersed, though most of them, with the
lieutenant-colonel himself, escaped to the lines. The rout was
speedily communicated to the guards at the two remaining points. At
the Bedford Pass the detachments under Colonel Wyllys and
Lieutenant-Colonel Wills appear to have realized their danger about
the time the British reached Bedford village. Finding Miles' troops
broken up and flying, they too, through fear of being intercepted,
took up the retreat. Finally, at the Flatbush Pass--the last point in
the outpost line to be attacked--the peril was still greater, for now
the Hessians were moving up in front. Here, as we have seen, General
Sullivan had just arrived to examine the situation. He had not long to
wait, however, before the nature of that situation fully dawned upon
him and the troops at the pass. While watching the Hessians at
Flatbush they suddenly hear the rattle of musketry on the left of
their rear, where British light infantry and dragoons are beginning to
chase and fire upon Miles, Brodhead, and Wyllys, and their broken
detachments. The Flatbush Pass was a point to be held, for it was the
centre of the outpost line, and retreat therefrom would endanger
Stirling; but Sullivan and his men must act promptly if they would do
no more even than save themselves, for the enemy by this time are much
nearer the Brooklyn lines than they. Just what occurred at this
juncture the records fail to tell us clearly. Did Sullivan, as one
letter states, immediately send word to Stirling to retreat?[150]
This would have been the first and natural step. Whoever the
commanding officer might be at the Flatbush Pass, it was for him to
watch the situation at the outpost line and give orders to the right
and left. All depended on what was done at that pass. If the guards
there gave way all the others must give way instantly. Whether the
word, therefore, reached Stirling or not, we must believe that
Sullivan sent it, as he ought to have done, and is reported to have
done. As for the general himself and his party, retreat was the only
alternative. Leaving the advanced pickets to fall back before the
Hessians, they turned towards the British in their rear. Very soon
they encountered the light infantry and dragoons, who were now
engaging in the attack with the highest dash and spirit. Reinforced by
four companies of the guards, the latter captured three pieces of our
artillery--the same, doubtless, which had just been playing upon the
Hessians, but were now turned, in the retreat, upon the British--and
which our gunners defended "heroically" to the last. Sullivan and his
men fought well, and apparently in separate parties, until nearly all
that had been stationed at the Flatbush Pass succeeded in breaking or
making their way through to the lines.
[Footnote 150: The supposition that Stirling commanded outside of the
lines on Long Island is erroneous. He had command of the reserves in
camp (Orders of August 25th), and was the proper officer to call upon
to reinforce any part of the outer line in case of attack. Sullivan
says, "Lord Stirling commanded the main body without the lines;" by
which is meant that he was with the principal force that went out, as
he was. Until the attack, the general officer of the day was in charge
of the outposts. Sullivan governed himself according to circumstances.
He was to be second in command under Putnam within the lines, he
writes; but the situation soon required his presence outside, where he
was also familiar with the dispositions.]
Meanwhile the Hessians appeared. They came up from the Flatbush plains
with drums beating and colors flying. Donop's grenadiers and yagers
led, and immediately after them followed the veteran De Heister at the
head of the brigades. Reaching the summit of the ridge, they deployed
their lines, and putting their sharpshooters in advance, moved rapidly
upon the position which our Flatbush Pass guard had just abandoned.
They met with little opposition, for they had nothing before them but
our scattered pickets. Soon, however, they fell in with the
retreating groups which the British had cut off from the lines and had
pushed back into the hills, and upon these they fell fiercely, and in
many instances cruelly. Where they found a rifleman resisting too
long, they pinned him with their bayonets, and to some of the wounded
they showed no mercy. Most of the prisoners fell into their hands, for
the reason that they had been driven towards the Hessians by the
British; but otherwise the day afforded no opportunity for fair
fighting between these "foreigners" and our troops.[151]
[Footnote 151: The Hessians are usually credited with taking a
prominent part in this battle, whereas the day was practically decided
before they came up. Necessarily our guards at the Flatbush Pass knew
that the British were in their rear as soon or sooner than the
Hessians knew it. They therefore turned to meet this unexpected enemy.
What Olney and Henshaw say settles this point. Olney states that
Cornell marched towards the lines on hearing firing in his rear,
leaving Olney to reinforce his pickets in front of the Hessians.
Henshaw writes that, finding the enemy between him and the lines, and
knowing no orders could come to retreat, he marched for camp. Cornell
and Henshaw were old officers, knew the ground thoroughly, and saw at
once that they must retreat. No mention is made of the Hessians.
Lieutenant Olney was in front of the latter some time before he
followed after his regiment. Howe reports that it was the _British_
who took our guns in that part of the field. If there was any such
severe fighting at that pass, as Von Elking makes out, would the
Hessians have lost but two men killed--all that they lost during the
day? There are errors of fact in this writer's account. The most that
the Hessians did was to chase, capture, and sometimes bayonet those of
our soldiers whom the British had already routed. The real fighting of
the day was done by Howe's English troops, and the very best he had,
principally the light infantry, grenadiers, dragoons, and
Highlanders.]
Thus all along the hills, from the Flatbush Pass to the extreme left,
our outer guards were in full retreat! It was a flight and fight to
reach the Brooklyn lines! Ten o'clock--and Miles, Brodhead, Wyllys,
Wills, Johnston, Henshaw, and Cornell, with two thousand men, were
hurrying through the woods, down the slopes and across the fields,
some singly, some in groups, some keeping together in companies, some
in battalions, all aiming for one objective--the camp! Here they
fought the light infantry; there they were charged upon by the
dragoons; those who were intercepted fell into the hands or upon the
bayonets of the Hessians. It was a trying and desperate situation from
which there was no relief and for a long time the woods echoed with
the shouts and cries of the contending parties. But upon the whole the
loss to the Americans up to this time was not heavy, and could
Stirling have been saved, the enemy would have had no great victory to
boast of. Full half of Miles' two battalions reached the lines;
Wyllys' and Chester's suffered but slightly; Henshaw and Cornell
brought their men in without much loss, and in comparatively good
order; the greatest blow to the Jerseymen was the death of their brave
colonel, Johnston, their casualties otherwise being light; and
Knowlton's hundred rangers just saved themselves from the dragoons,
"with the utmost difficulty and on the full run." The artillerymen
suffered more. General Sullivan himself, after showing good courage
and avoiding capture until noon, endeavored to conceal himself, but
was found and made prisoner by three Hessian grenadiers.[152]
[Footnote 152: During this fighting by the British infantry,
Cornwallis and the reserves moved straight down the Jamaica Road. The
Thirty-third Regiment and the grenadiers in their pursuit of some of
the American fugitives approached the fortified lines between Fort
Greene and Fort Putnam, and showed such eagerness to storm them that,
according to Howe's report, it required repeated orders to hold them
back. On the part of the Americans, Little reports that the enemy
"attempted to force our lines, but soon retreated, being met with a
smart fire from our breastworks;" and Little, no doubt, was at Fort
Greene, an eye-witness.]
* * * * *
The day was lost at the left and centre, and it only remains to return
to Stirling on the right. This general stood his ground firmly, though
the firing in his rear grew ominously distinct. He refused to
retreat, says Scott, for want of orders. If Sullivan sent him orders,
as we have assumed on one writer's authority that he did, they failed
to reach him. The time had come for the general to act on his own
judgment, and finding his salvation dependent on an immediate retreat,
he fell back from Grant's front between eleven and twelve o'clock, but
only to discover that he too was surrounded. The force which had
anticipated him was Cornwallis with the Seventy-first Regiment and the
Second Grenadiers, and they were holding his line of retreat on the
Gowanus Road. Stirling, realizing his danger, at once determined upon
the only manoeuvre that promised escape for any of his command. Upon
his left lay the Gowanus marsh and creek, where both were at their
broadest, and where a crossing had never been attempted. But now the
attempt must be made, or every man is lost. Upon the other side of the
creek are the Brooklyn peninsula, the lines, and safety. Stirling
therefore ordered his men to make their way across as they could,
while, to protect them as they forded or swam, he himself took Gist
and half the Maryland battalion and proceeded to attack Cornwallis.
Against all the misfortunes of the day this piece of resolution and
true soldiership stands out in noble relief. The Marylanders followed
their general without flinching, and were soon "warmly engaged" with
the enemy, who had posted themselves at a house--the old "Cortelyou"
house--above the upper mills near the intersection of the Port and
Gowanus roads. They rallied to the attack several times, as Stirling
reports, and seemed on the point of dislodging Cornwallis, when
reinforcements came up, and the British drove back the Marylanders
into a piece of woods. Here, with conspicuous courage and
determination, they formed again for still another effort to break
through. Stirling's example was inspiring. "He encouraged and animated
our young soldiers," writes Gist, "with almost invincible resolution."
But his handful of brave men had done all that was possible, and in
their last charge they were met by great numbers and forced to retire
again, "with much precipitation and confusion."[153] They broke up
into small parties and sought escape. Nine only, among whom was Major
Gist, succeeded in crossing the creek, the rest having retreated into
the woods.[154] Stirling endeavored to get into the lines between the
British and Fort Box, or by way of the mill-dam, but finding this
impossible, he turned, ran through their fire, and eluding pursuit
around a hill, made his way to the Hessian corps and surrendered
himself to General De Heister. He had sacrificed himself and party as
prisoners, but his main object was accomplished. The rest of the
command was saved! They crossed the marsh and creek with a loss of but
two or three killed and six or eight drowned.
[Footnote 153: The conduct of the Marylanders was soldierly beyond
praise. But some accounts subject them to a singular martyrdom,
killing every man of the two hundred and fifty-nine reported missing.
As there was but one officer wounded, or at the most one killed and
one wounded in the party, according to the official returns, the
proportion of men killed was doubtless small. The letter in _Force_,
5th Series, vol. i., p. 1232, referring to this attack, bears every
evidence of having been written by Gist himself, and it is quoted as
his in the text. In this letter Gist speaks of being surrounded on all
sides, and then adds: "The impracticability of forcing through such a
formidable body of troops rendered it the height of rashness and
imprudence to risk the lives of our remaining party in a third
attempt, and it became necessary for us to endeavor to effect our
escape in the best manner we possibly could." This shows that there
were many left to disperse. Their prudence was equal to their
courage.]
[Footnote 154: Before Stirling's fight with Cornwallis took place, the
mill and little bridge at the further end of the mill-dam across
Gowanus Creek were burned down. Colonel Smallwood charged "a certain
Colonel Ward" with the act, and claimed that the destruction of the
bridge prevented the escape of Stirling and the Marylanders with him.
Mr. Bancroft and Mr. Field repeat the charge. But Smallwood is
contradicted both by Stirling and Gist, the former stating that he
could not get by the British on the road full half a mile beyond the
bridge, and the latter adding that he was driven back into the woods.
The charge had no foundation, the bridge not having been set on fire
until after the enemy took possession of the road above (see Ewing's
sketch). The "Colonel Ward" was Colonel Jonathan Ward, of
Massachusetts; and the probability is that he and Colonel Tyler, both
of whom lost some men during the day, had been sent out on the Port
Road, but, finding Cornwallis there, retreated, burning mill and
bridge to obstruct the latter's possible advance in that quarter.]
It was during this scene in the incidents of the day that Washington
and his staff came upon the ground. They had remained at New York
watching the fleet, when, finding that no danger was to be apprehended
from that quarter, they crossed to Long Island. From the top of one of
the hills within the lines, possibly Cobble Hill, the Chief witnessed
Stirling's retreat and fight, and is said there to have been
profoundly moved as he saw how many brave men he must inevitably lose.
Colonel Smallwood, of the Marylanders, who had rejoined his regiment,
petitioned for a force to march out and assist Stirling, but the
general declined on account of the risks involved. Douglas's
Connecticut levies, just coming up from the ferry,[155] were sent to
the extreme right opposite the mouth of Gowanus Creek, where, with
Captain Thomas' Maryland Independent Company and two pieces of
artillery, they stood ready to prevent pursuit of the retreating party
by the enemy.
[Footnote 155: The reinforcements that came over during the forenoon,
besides Douglas's regiment, were Sage's and Selden's, which, with
Douglas, completed Wadsworth's brigade on that side; Charles Webb's,
of McDougall's brigade; and Scott, with Malcom and Humphrey's men, or
the rest of his brigade.]
Last of all, where were Parsons and Atlee? Had they been holding that
hill in Greenwood all the morning, with a tenacity worthy of veterans,
only to be swallowed up in the defeat and confusion of the day? Such
was to be their fate. For some unexplained reason, when Stirling fell
back, he failed to inform Parsons of his move. Both Parsons and Atlee
state that no word reached them to join the general, and that it was
greatly to their surprise when they found the line, whose flank they
had been protecting, no longer there. Whatever the mistake, there was
no time to lose, for the enemy were now pressing on this little force,
and it must retreat as Stirling had done. But it soon found itself
more effectually hemmed in than any party in the field. Cornwallis,
after driving the Marylanders back, had complete command of the road,
and as Parsons and Atlee came along they found it impossible even to
reach the marsh. Some escaped, but the greater part turned into the
woods and were all taken. Atlee, with twenty-three men, avoided
capture until five o'clock in the afternoon; while Parsons, more
fortunate, hid in a swamp, having escaped from the action and pursuit
"as by a miracle," and with seven men made his way into our lines at
daylight next morning.[156]
[Footnote 156: "Colonel Huntington's and the Maryland regiment
suffered the most. General Parsons says that some of our men fought
through the enemy not less than 7 or 8 times that day. He lay out
himself part of the night concealed in a swamp, from whence he made
his escape with 7 men to our lines about break of day the next
morning."--_Letter from an Officer, Conn. Journal_, September 18th,
1776. "I came in with 7 men yesterday morning, much fatigued."--_General
Parsons_, August 29th, 1776.]
* * * * *
The battle was over. It had continued at intervals, at one point or
another, over a range of five miles, from three o'clock in the morning
until nearly two in the afternoon. Less than five thousand Americans
at the passes, including Stirling's command and all others who had
marched out during the morning, had been swept up or swept back by
nearly twenty thousand British and Hessians. For our troops it was a
total defeat. They had been forced to abandon the outer line of
defence--the very line Washington wished should be held "at all
hazards"--and had been driven into the fortified camp on the Brooklyn
peninsula. This result would have inevitably come, sooner or later,
but no one could have entertained the possibility of its coming in
this sudden and disastrous shape.
* * * * *
Looking back over the day's work, the cause of the defeat is apparent
at once: _We had been completely outflanked and surprised on the
Jamaica Road._ Where the responsibility for the surprise should rest
is another question. Evidently, if that patrol of officers had not
been captured, but, upon discovering the approach of the enemy, had
carried the word directly to Miles' camp and to headquarters, the
enemy would not have gained the rear of our outposts without warning.
Miles and Wyllys could have interposed themselves across their path,
and held the ground long enough at least to put our troops at the
other points on their guard. The surprise of this patrol, therefore,
can alone explain the defeat. But as the officers appear to have been
sent out as an additional precaution, the responsibility must be
shared by Miles and his regiment, who were the permanent guard on the
left. Brodhead, who wrote eight days after the event, distinctly
asserts that there were no troops beyond them, and that, for want of
videttes, that flank was left for them to watch. Parsons, as officer
of the day, reports that Miles was expected to patrol across the
Jamaica Road. But to charge the colonel personally with a fatal
mistake or neglect is not warranted by the facts. His own patrols and
pickets may have failed him. The simple fact appears that this
regiment was put upon our left, that our left was turned, and the
battle lost in consequence. As to the generalship of the day, if the
responsibility falls on any one, it falls first on Sullivan, who sent
out the mounted patrol in the first instance, and to whom it belonged
to follow up the precautions in that direction. Putnam was in chief
command, but nothing can be inferred from contemporary records to
fasten neglect or blunder upon him any more than upon Washington, who,
when he left the Brooklyn lines on the evening of the 26th, must have
known precisely what disposition had been made for the night at the
hills and passes. And upon Washington certainly the responsibility
cannot rest.[157]
[Footnote 157: RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE DEFEAT.--According to some of
our more recent versions of this battle, the disaster is to be
referred to the wilful disobedience, criminal inattention, and total
incapacity of General Putnam. Several writers make the charge so
pointedly and upon such an array of fact, that the reader is left to
wonder how all this should have escaped the notice of the
commander-in-chief at the time, and why Putnam was not immediately
court-martialled and dismissed the service, instead of being
continued, as he was, in important commands. The charge is the more
serious as it is advanced by so respectable an authority as Mr.
Bancroft. Mr. Field, Mr. Dawson, and Dr. Stiles, following the latter,
incline strongly in the same direction.
Mr. Bancroft first assails Putnam for sending Stirling out to the
right when word came in that the enemy were advancing and our pickets
flying. This is criticised as "a rash order," because it sent Stirling
to a position which was "dangerous in the extreme," with the Gowanus
marsh in his rear. But as to this, it only needs to be said that
Putnam's written instructions from Washington were imperative to
prevent the enemy from passing the hills and approaching the works. It
would have been a clear disregard of Washington's intention had Putnam
not sent Stirling out precisely as he did. The enemy were coming up
from the Narrows and must be checked "at all hazards." Furthermore,
the position Stirling took up at about Nineteenth Street was actually
safer than any other on the outpost line. His right could not be
turned, for it rested on the bay, and he could see every movement of
the fleet. His left was well covered by Parsons, and no one could have
imagined his rear in danger with the other outposts guarding it for
more than three miles. As a matter of fact, Stirling was nearer the
lines than either Miles or Wyllys.
Again, it is charged that when Putnam and Sullivan visited the extreme
left on the 26th "the movements of the enemy plainly disclosed that it
was their intention to get into the rear of the Americans by the
Jamaica Road," yet nothing was done. The foundation of this is
probably a statement of Brodhead's and another by Miles to the effect
that these generals might have themselves observed that the enemy were
preparing for the Jamaica move. But if the intentions of the latter
were so obvious at that time, it is proper to ask why it was not
equally obvious on the next morning that they were actually carrying
out their intentions, and why Miles and Brodhead did not so report at
an early hour. These officers were rightly impressed with the
conviction that the enemy would come by way of Jamaica, but it is
certain that the enemy made no observable move in that direction from
Flatlands, where they had been for three days, until nine o'clock that
night. So says Howe. It was clearly in the plan of the British to give
our outposts no ground for suspecting a flanking manoeuvre. Their
movements were far from being "plainly disclosed." The quotation given
by Mr. Bancroft in this connection, namely, that "Washington's order
to secure the Jamaica Road was not obeyed," unfortunately appears as
original in a "Review of the War" published in 1779 and written by
some irresponsible individual in England, who could neither have known
what Washington's orders were, nor whether any attempt was made to
carry them out.
A further charge is this: "Early in the morning, Putnam was informed
that infantry and cavalry were advancing on the Jamaica Road. He gave
Washington no notice of the danger; he sent Stirling no order to
retreat." This is doubtless on the authority of a letter in _Force_,
5th Series, vol. i., p. 1195. But how early was Putnam informed? The
writer of the letter who brought the word was probably one of Miles'
or Brodhead's men, for he tells us that his regiment was dressed in
hunting-shirts, and he makes the very important statement that on his
way back to his post he met the enemy! The information came too late,
for the British were now marching down towards the lines. Sullivan had
gone to the Flatbush Pass, where he could understand the situation
better than Putnam, and he was the proper officer to give directions
to the outposts at that moment.
The charges made by Mr. Dawson have still less foundation. General
Putnam is stated never to have reconnoitred the enemy's position.
Brodhead, however, states distinctly that he did. "It is also a
well-established fact," says this writer, "that no general officer was
outside the lines at Brooklyn on the night of the 26th." What is the
authority for this? Nixon, Stirling, and Parsons had been successively
officers of the day, and presumably did their duty. Parsons, on the
morning of the 27th, was on the lower road trying to rally the pickets
before Stirling appeared with reinforcements. "The mounted patrols
which General Sullivan had established, as well as the guards at some
of the passes established by General Greene, were withdrawn." The fact
that all the passes were well guarded and a special patrol sent out,
is a complete answer to this assertion, so far as the night of the
26th is concerned. In this light the general conclusion arrived at by
Mr. Dawson, that "General Putnam paid no attention to the orders of
General Washington," cannot be sustained.
With regard to General Sullivan, it is but just to give his own
explanation. A year after the battle, he wrote: "I know it has been
generally reported that I commanded on Long Island when the actions
happened there. This is by no means true; _General Putnam_ had taken
the command from me four days before the action. Lord Stirling
commanded the main body without the lines; I was to have command under
General Putnam within the lines. I was very uneasy about a road
through which I had often foretold the enemy would come, but could not
persuade others to be of my opinion. I went to the Hill near Flatbush
to reconnoitre the enemy, and, with a piquet of four hundred men, was
surrounded by the enemy, who had advanced by the very road I had
foretold, and which I had paid horsemen fifty dollars for patrolling
by night, while I had the command, as I had no foot for the purpose,
for which I was never reimbursed, as it was supposed unnecessary." In
another letter he adds: "I was so persuaded of the enemy's coming the
[Jamaica] route, that I went to examine, and was surrounded by the
British army, and after a long and severe engagement was made
prisoner." These letters were written when Sullivan was restless under
charges brought against him in connection with the defeat at
Brandywine--charges which were properly dropped, however--and are not
conclusive as to the Long Island affair. His statements are no doubt
strictly true, but they in no way affect the main point, namely, did
we or did we not have a patrol out on the Jamaica Road _on the night
of the 26th_? We have seen that there was such a patrol, and probably
the best that had yet been sent out, and sent out, according to
Lieutenant Van Wagenen, by General Sullivan himself.
There are but few references to the question of responsibility in
contemporary letters and documents. Gordon blames Sullivan as being
over-confident. Miles and Brodhead leave us to infer that this general
had much to do with the plan of action, and must be held at least in
part responsible. Sullivan, on the other hand, according to Brodhead,
blamed Miles for the defeat, as Parsons did. When these officers
wrote, they wrote to defend their own conduct, and their testimony is
necessarily incomplete so far as others are concerned.
In brief, the case seems to be this: On the night of the 26th we had
all the roads guarded. On the morning of the 27th Putnam promptly
reinforced the guards on the lower road when the enemy were announced.
The arrangements were such that if an attack was made at any of the
other points he and Sullivan were to have word of it in ample time. No
word came in time from the left, for the reason that those who were to
bring it were captured, or surprised, or failed of their duty. Hence
the disaster. The dispositions on Long Island were quite as complete
as those at Brandywine more than a year later, where we suffered
nearly a similar surprise and as heavy a loss. Suppose the very small
patrols sent out by Washington and Sullivan to gain information before
that battle had been captured, as at Long Island--we should have
sustained a greater disaster than at Long Island.
Under this state of facts, to charge Putnam with the defeat of the
27th, in the terms which some writers have employed, is both unjust
and unhistorical. That misfortune is not to be clouded with the
additional reflection, that it was due to the gross neglect and
general incapacity of the officer in command. No facts or inferences
justify the charge. No one hinted it at the time; nor did Washington
in the least withdraw his confidence from Putnam during the remainder
of the campaign.]
What has been said of other defeats may be said with equal truth of
this one: if it was a disaster, it was not a disgrace. Even the
surprise upon the left discloses no criminal misconduct. In the
actual fighting of the day our soldiers stood their ground.
Necessarily we suffered heavily in prisoners, but otherwise our loss
was inconsiderable. All the light that we have to-day goes to
establish the very important fact, originally credited and reported by
Washington himself, but which hardly a single historical writer has
since ventured to repeat, that at the battle of Long Island _the
British and Hessians suffered a loss in killed and wounded equal to
that inflicted upon the Americans_.[158] Howe reported his total
casualties at three hundred and sixty-seven officers and soldiers. On
the side of the Americans the total loss did not exceed one thousand.
About eight hundred, including ninety-one officers, were taken
prisoners; not more than six officers and about fifty privates were
killed; and less than sixteen officers and one hundred and fifty
privates wounded. No frightful slaughter of our troops, as sometimes
pictured, occurred during the action. It was a field where the
American soldier, in every fair encounter, proved himself worthy of
the cause he was fighting for.
[Footnote 158: See note at the close of the chapter.]
* * * * *
To those who fell in the engagement we may render here a grateful
tribute, though something more than this is due. Their services and
sacrifices are deserving of remembrance rather by a lasting memorial;
for men died here who showed not less of individual worth and heroism
than others who are immortalized on victorious fields. Thus at the
Flatbush Road we find Philip Johnston, colonel of the Jersey
battalion, which formed part of the guard there during the night. He
was the son of the worthy Judge Samuel Johnston, of the town of Sidney
in Hunterdon County. In his youth he had been a student at Princeton,
but, dropping his books, he took up the sword for the colonies in the
French war, from which he returned with honor. The troubles with Great
Britain found him ready again to fight in defence of common rights and
his native soil. Parting from his wife and child with touching
affection, he took the field with his regiment, and when attacked on
Long Island he showed all the qualities which mark the true soldier. A
gentleman of high principle, an officer of fine presence, one of the
strongest men in the army, he fought near Sullivan with the greatest
bravery until he fell mortally wounded. That August 27th was his
thirty-fifth birthday.
Equally glorious and regretted was the death of Lieutenant-Colonel
Caleb Parry, of Atlee's regiment, which occurred, as already noticed,
at an earlier hour and in another part of the field. He too was in the
prime of life, and eager to render the country some good service. A
representative colonist, descended from an ancient and honorable
family long seated in North Wales, and a man of polish and culture, he
stood ready for any sacrifice demanded of him at this crisis. Parry
came from Chester County, Pennsylvania, leaving a wife and five
children, and crossed with his regiment to Long Island four days
before the battle. Under what circumstances he fell has been told. As
they crossed the line of Greenwood Cemetery to take position at or
near "Battle Hill," the little command was greeted with a sudden
though harmless volley from the enemy. The men shrunk and fell back,
but Atlee rallied and Parry cheered them on, and they gained the hill.
It was here, while engaged in an officer's highest duty, turning men
to the enemy by his own example, that the fatal bullet pierced his
brow. When some future monument rises from Greenwood to commemorate
the struggle of this day, it can bear no more fitting line among its
inscriptions than this tribute of Brodhead's, "Parry died like a
hero."
Captain Edward Veazey, of the Marylanders, belonged to the family of
Veazeys who settled in Cecil County, on the eastern shore of that
State, and who traced their lineage back to the Norman De Veazies of
the eleventh century. The captain was fifty-five years of age, took up
the colonial cause at the start, raised the Seventh Independent
Company of Maryland troops, and was among the earliest to fall in
Stirling's line.
Captain Joseph Jewett, of Huntington's Continentals, perhaps defending
himself to the last, even when escape was impossible, was three times
stabbed with British bayonets after surrendering his sword. Cared for
by a humane surgeon, but still lingering in pain, he died on the
morning of the 29th, and was buried in the Bennett orchard, near
Twenty-second Street and Third Avenue. He left a family at Lyme, on
the Connecticut, where he lived, and from where he went to join the
army on the Lexington alarm. A soldier who fought on Long Island
remembers him as "an officer much respected and beloved, of elegant
and commanding appearance, and of unquestionable bravery."
The officers and men of the artillery, who fought the six pieces we
had in the action, covered themselves with honor. They were "the
flower" of Knox's regiment, picked for a field fight. Captain
Carpenter, of Providence, fell in Stirling's command, leaving a widow
to mourn him. Captain John Johnston, of Boston, was desperately
wounded, but recovered under the care of Surgeon Eustis. The record
which John Callender, of the same place, made for himself is a
familiar story. To wipe out the stain of an undeserved sentence passed
upon him after Bunker Hill, by which he was cashiered, he rejoined the
artillery as a private soldier, and then, as a "cadet," fought his
piece on Long Island until the enemy's bayonets were at his breast.
Upon his exchange as prisoner a year later, Washington restored him to
his rank as captain-lieutenant, and he served honorably to the end of
the war. Harmanus Rutgers, one of the patriotic Rutgers brothers in
New York, serving, it would seem, as a gunner, was struck in the
breast by a cannon-shot, and fell dead at his post. The tradition
preserved in his family is that he was the first man killed in the
battle. Knox, hearing how well his men had done, wrote to his wife: "I
have met with some loss in my regiment. They fought like heroes and
are gone to glory."
Of three others known to have been killed during the day, and who
probably complete the list of officers, we have no more than the fact
that they fell. They were Lieutenant Joseph Jacquet, of Miles' first
battalion, and Lieutenants David Sloan and Charles Taylor, of the
second battalion--all apparently from Chester County, Pennsylvania.
Hardly more than three or four names of the private soldiers who were
killed have been preserved, owing doubtless to the fact that, if they
were ever known, it was not until long after, when no rolls would show
their fate.
To the roll of the dead must be added also the honored name of General
Nathaniel Woodhull, of Long Island. On the day after the battle, a
party of British light horse, under Oliver De Lancey, rode out on the
Jamaica Road and surprised the general at an inn, where without
provocation he was cruelly hacked in the head and arm, and carried off
a prisoner. He survived until the 20th, when he died at New Utrecht.
His loss was greatly regretted, for he was a man of energy and
ability, and had the success of the Revolutionary cause most fervently
at heart.[159]
[Footnote 159: Mr. Onderdonk, Mr. Thompson, and others have gathered
and published all the known incidents respecting the fate of General
Woodhull, which are doubtless familiar to those interested in the
history of Long Island. See General Scott's brief reference to him in
_Document_ 6.]
* * * * *
This battle was regarded at the time as one of very great importance,
and the result created a deep impression on both sides of the water.
In England they had long been waiting for the news, and the king
became depressed at the British delay in moving; in addition, the
first reports, coming by way of France, were unfavorable. But at last,
at three o'clock on the morning of October 10th, Major Cuyler, of
Howe's staff, reached the government with the official accounts of the
victory. Immediately, as Walpole tells us, the Court was filled with
"an extravagance of joy." The relief was so great that it was
displayed with "the utmost ostentation." The king at once determined
to send Howe "a red riband;" and Lord Mansfield, who had thrown the
weight of his great legal abilities against America, was created an
earl. The Mayor and Corporation of York voted an address to his
Majesty "on the victory at Long Island;" at Leeds they rang the
bells, lighted windows, fired cannon, and started a huge bonfire which
made the town "quite luminous;" and at Halifax, Colne, Huddersfield,
and many other places, similar rejoicings were held. At Limerick
Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell ordered the garrison under arms, and fired
three volleys "on account of the success of his Majesty's troops at
Long Island;" and, for the same reason, in the evening "a number of
ladies and gentlemen were elegantly entertained at dinner by the
bishop." From Paris Silas Deane wrote to Congress: "The want of
instructions or intelligence or remittances, with the late check on
Long Island, has sunk our credit to nothing." In Amsterdam, the centre
of exchange for all Europe, English stocks rose; but the Dutch, with
characteristic shrewdness, failed to accept "our misfortune" as final,
and took the opportunity to sell out. In London Tory circles they
considered the American war as practically over, and some began to
talk of new schemes of colonial government.
As for America, the defeat, coupled with the subsequent retreat,
everywhere carried alarm and keen disappointment. Greene speaks of the
"panic" in the county. But at the same time many brave voices were
raised to counteract despondency. Parsons, in the army, wrote: "I
think the trial of that day far from being any discouragement, but in
general our men behaved with firmness." Bartlett, in Congress, sent
word home to New Hampshire that he hoped the event would only make our
generals more careful in their future operations. "We have lost a
battle and a small island," said Dr. Rush, of Philadelphia, in one of
the sessions a few days later, "but we have not lost a State. Why
then should we be discouraged? Or why should we be discouraged even
if we had lost a State? If there were but one State left, still that
one should peril all for independence." "The panic may seize whom it
will," wrote John Adams; "it shall not seize me." But the grandest
words inspired by the pervading anxiety were those penned by Abigail
Adams, the noble wife of the Massachusetts delegate. "We have had many
stories," she wrote from Braintree, September 9th, "concerning
engagements upon Long Island this week, of our lines being forced and
of our troops returning to New York. Particulars we have not yet
obtained. All we can learn is that we have been unsuccessful there;
having many men as prisoners, among whom are Lord Stirling and General
Sullivan. _But if we should be defeated, I think we shall not be
conquered. A people fired, like the Romans, with love of their country
and of liberty, a zeal for the public good, and a noble emulation of
glory, will not be disheartened or dispirited by a succession of
unfortunate events. But, like them, may we learn by defeat the power
of becoming invincible!_"
This was the true inspiration of the hour. It was this that sustained
Washington and the strong men of the country through all the dark
period that followed. The disaster of the 27th was a disciplinary
experience. It was but the first of a series of blows that were to
harden us for future endurance. The event was accepted in this spirit
by all who had taken up the cause in earnest; and in this light the
memory of the day deserves to be forever celebrated and perpetuated.
Here, on Long Island, all was done that could be done, for we had met
the enemy at the sea. Here America made her first stand against
England's first great effort to subdue her; and here her resolution to
continue resistance was first tested and tempered in the fire of
battle.
* * * * *
THE LOSSES AT THE BATTLE.--So many widely different
estimates have been made as to the extent of the American
loss on Long Island, that it becomes a matter of historical
interest to fix the actual figures, if possible, beyond
dispute.
The first official reference to the matter occurs in the
letter which Washington directed Colonel Harrison, his
secretary, to write to Congress on the evening of the
battle. Nothing definite on this point being known at that
hour, Harrison, after announcing the attack of the enemy,
and the retreat of the troops into the Brooklyn lines, could
only make the vague report that the American loss was
"pretty considerable." On Thursday morning, the 29th, at
"half after four A.M.," Washington himself wrote to Hancock
that he was still uncertain how far the army had suffered.
On Saturday, the 31st, he wrote again, and in this letter
gave an estimate in figures. This was the only report he
made to Congress in the matter, except indirectly. "Nor have
I," he writes, "been yet able to obtain an exact account of
our loss; we suppose it from seven hundred to a thousand
killed and taken." In subsequent public and private letters
to his brother, to Governor Trumbull, General Schuyler, and
the Massachusetts Assembly, Washington did not vary these
figures materially (except to make the estimate closer,
about 800), and they stand, therefore, as his official
return of the casualties of that day.
Sir William Howe's report, on the other hand, presented
altogether a different showing. It left no room for doubt as
to the extent of the British victory. Dated September 3d,
seven days after the affair, it contained all those
particulars of events up to that time which a successful
general is well aware will be received with special
satisfaction by his government. The landing at Gravesend,
the occupation of Flatbush, the skilful march of the
flanking column, the bravery of the troops, and the complete
success of the entire plan of action were mentioned in
order; while a detailed statement and estimate of the losses
on either side, including a tabulated return of prisoners
taken, only fortified the impression that a most damaging
defeat had been served upon the Americans. Against
Washington's estimate of a total of one thousand or less for
his own loss, Howe reported that the enlisted men he
captured alone numbered one thousand and six, and that in
addition he took ninety-one commissioned officers, of whom
three were generals, three colonels, four
lieutenant-colonels, three majors, eighteen captains,
forty-three lieutenants, eleven ensigns, one adjutant, three
surgeons, and two volunteers; and he "computed" that in
killed, wounded, and drowned, the Americans lost two
thousand two hundred more. On the part of the British, Howe
reported five officers and fifty-six men killed, twelve
officers and two hundred and fifty-five men wounded, and one
officer and thirty men prisoners and missing. The Hessians
lost two men killed, three officers and twenty-three men
wounded. Howe's total loss, in a word, was made to appear at
less than four hundred; Washington's full three thousand
three hundred.
The apparent exactness of this report has secured it, in
general, against close analysis. English historians, almost
without exception, quote it as it stands, while there are
American writers who respect it so far as to pronounce
Washington's report clearly, and even purposely, inaccurate.
Thus the most recent English history of this period says:
"The Americans fled in confusion, leaving upwards of three
thousand killed, wounded, and prisoners, including their
three generals of division;" and in a note the writer adds:
"Washington's estimate of the loss on both sides was grossly
incorrect. In his letter to Congress of the 30th August,
giving a very meagre and evasive account of the action, he
says that his loss in killed and prisoners was from 700 to
1000; and that he had reason to believe the enemy had
suffered still more. This would seem to be a wilful
misrepresentation to prevent the public alarm which might
have been caused by the knowledge of his real loss; were it
not that in a private letter to his brother, three weeks
afterwards, he makes a similar statement. General Howe's
returns of _prisoners_, and of his own killed and wounded,
are precise." (_History of England during the Reign of
George the Third._ By the Right Hon. William Massey, 1865.)
Among Brooklyn writers, Mr. Field asserts that Washington
concealed the actual extent of his loss, and Dr. Stiles
accepts the British report as it stands. Marshall puts the
American loss at over 1000; Irving, 2000; Lossing, 1650;
Field, 2000; Sparks, 1100; Bancroft, 800; Carrington, 970.
Stedman, the earliest British historian, gives 2000, while
Adolphus, Jesse, and Massey, who cover the reign of George
III., blindly follow Howe and give over 3000 for the
American loss.
There is but one explanation of this wide discrepancy
between the British and American returns, namely:
Washington's original estimate at its largest limit--one
thousand, killed, wounded, and prisoners--_was almost
precisely correct_.
Of this there can be no question whatever, the proof being a
matter of record. Thus, on the 8th of October, Washington
issued the following order: "The General desires the
commanding officers of each regiment or corps will give in a
list of the names and the officers and men who were killed,
taken, or missing in the action of the 27th of August on
Long Island and since that period. He desires the returns
may be correct, &c." (_Force_). A large number of these
lists are preserved in _Force_, 5th series, vol. iii., and
from these we obtain the losses of the following regiments:
Hitchcock's, total loss, one officer and nine men; Little's,
three men; Huntington's, twenty-one officers and one hundred
and eighty-six men; Wyllys', one officer and nine men;
Tyler, three men; Ward, three men; Chester, twelve men; Gay,
four men; Lasher, three officers. Smallwood's lost,
according to Gist, twelve officers and two hundred and
forty-seven men; Haslet, according to his own letters, two
officers and twenty-five men; Johnston's New Jersey, two
officers and less than twenty-five men, the rolls before and
after the battle showing no greater difference in the
strength of the regiment; Miles' two battalions, sixteen
officers and about one hundred and sixty men (_Document_
61); Atlee, eleven officers and seventy-seven men. (_Ibid._)
No official report of the losses in Lutz's, Kachlein's, and
Hay's detachments or the artillery can be found, but to give
their total casualties at one hundred and fifty officers and
men is probably a liberal estimate. Lutz lost six officers
(all prisoners); Kachlein not more; Hay, one; the artillery,
three. The regiments named in the foregoing list include all
from which Howe reported that he took officers prisoners,
from which it is safe to conclude that these were all that
lost any. No others are mentioned as having been engaged.
These figures show in round numbers a total of _one
thousand_, and this was our total loss, according to
official returns in nearly every case.
How many of these, in the next place, were killed and
wounded? If we are to credit certain Hessian and British
accounts, as well as those of our own local historians, the
battle-field on Long Island was a scene of carnage, a pen in
which our men were slaughtered without mercy. The confused
strife, says one writer, "is too terrible for the
imagination to dwell upon." "An appalling massacre," says
another, "thus closed the combat." "The forest," writes a
Hessian officer, "was a scene of horror; there were
certainly two thousand killed and wounded lying about." Lord
Howe himself, as we have seen, "computed" that the American
loss in killed and wounded alone was two thousand three
hundred. But a striking commentary on this computation is
not only the total omission on his part to mention how many
of this very large number he buried on the field, but the
important admission he makes that not more than sixty-seven
wounded American officers and soldiers fell into his hands!
Where were the twenty-two hundred other maimed and fallen
rebels? Obviously, and as Howe must have well known, the
Americans could carry few if any of their dead with them on
their precipitate retreat, nor could any but the slightly
hurt of the wounded make their escape. Full two thousand, by
this calculation, must have been left upon the field. Who
buried them? Were they the victims of the supposed frightful
slaughter? Did the British general purposely give an evasive
estimate to cover up the inhumanity which would thus have
forever stained the glory of his victory? Far from it. That
"computation" has no basis to stand upon; but, on the
contrary, our loss in killed and wounded was not greater
than the enemy's, but most probably less.
This statement will bear close examination. On the 19th of
September, after he must have been able to satisfy himself
as to the extent of the defeat on Long Island, the
commander-in-chief wrote to the Massachusetts Assembly that
he had lost about eight hundred men, "more than three
fourths of which were taken prisoners." He wrote the same
thing to others. So Washington felt authorized to state
positively that we lost in killed and wounded that day not
over two hundred men and officers. "The enemy's loss in
killed," he added, "we could never ascertain; but have many
reasons to believe that it was pretty considerable, and
exceeded ours a good deal." General Parsons, who saw as much
of the field as any other officer, wrote to John Adams two
days after the battle: "Our loss in killed and wounded is
inconsiderable." General Scott, writing to John Jay, a week
later, could say: "What our loss on Long Island was I am not
able to estimate. I think from the best accounts we must
have killed many of the enemy." Colonel Douglas wrote,
August 31st: "The enemy surrounded a large detachment of our
army, took many, killed some and the rest got off.... By the
best account we killed more of them than they did of us. But
they took the most prisoners." Lieutenant-Colonel Chambers,
who was in the way of gathering many particulars from the
Pennsylvanians who escaped, says: "Our men behaved as
bravely as men ever did; but it is surprising that, with the
superiority of numbers, they were not cut to pieces.... Our
loss is chiefly in prisoners." Lieutenant-Colonel Brodhead,
who had to retreat among the last over the very ground which
others have marked out as the scene of the massacre, as the
site where "lay nearly one thousand men, slain in the shock
of battle, or by subsequent murder" (_Field_)--Brodhead
says: "I retreated to the lines, having lost out of the
whole battalion, about one hundred men, officers included,
which, as they were much scattered, must be chiefly
prisoners.... No troops could behave better than the
Southern, for though they seldom engaged less than five to
one, they frequently repulsed the Enemy with great
Slaughter, and I am confident that the number of killed and
wounded on their side, is greater than on ours,
notwithstanding we had to fight them front and rear under
every disadvantage." Colonel Silliman, of Connecticut, who
appears to have made particular inquiries in the matter,
wrote, September 10th: "I think upon the best information I
can get that we are about 1000 men the worse for that
action. The Enemy say they have about 800 of them prisoners.
We have about 50 of them in the hospital wounded. Of the
other 150 'tis said that in the engagement a considerable
number of the riflemen deserted and went over to the enemy
and some no doubt escaped towards the other end of the
Island. On the whole I do not think we had 50 men killed in
the action." (_MS. letter._) These are statements made by
officers who were present at the battle, and who wrote
within a few days of the event. They all, with many others,
reach the same conclusion that the enemy suffered in killed
and wounded as much if not more than the Americans. Their
testimony, moreover, is strengthened by what we know
directly and indirectly from the returns and other sources.
The loss in officers, of which we have exact figures, is one
basis of calculation. Ninety-one, as already stated, were
taken prisoners, of whom nine were reported wounded in
Howe's return. Among these were General Woodhull, Colonel
Johnston, and Captain Jewett, all three mortally wounded,
and Captain Bowie and Lieutenant Butler, of the Marylanders;
Captain Johnston, of the artillery; Captain Peebles, of
Miles', and Lieutenant Makepeace, of Huntington's. [Colonel
Johnston is usually mentioned as having been killed on the
field. But Howe's return gives one New Jersey colonel
prisoner, and Elking's Hessian account states that he was
wounded after being made prisoner.] Among officers known to
be wounded, not captured, were Major McDonough, Lieutenants
Course and Anderson, of the Delawares; Lieutenant Hughes, of
Hitchcock's; and Captain Farmer, of Miles'. Lieutenant
Patterson, of Hay's detachment, was either killed or
captured (Colonel Cunningham's return). The officers killed
were Lieutenant-Colonel Parry, Captain Carpenter, Captain
Veazey, and Lieutenants Sloan, Jacquet, and Taylor. Various
accounts state that Colonel Rutgers, Lieutenant-Colonel
Eppes, Major Abeel (of Lasher's), Captain Fellows, and
Lieutenant Moore (of Pennsylvania) were killed, but there is
an error in each case, all these officers being reported
alive at different dates after the battle. We have, then,
twenty-one killed or wounded (six only killed on the field)
among the American officers engaged in the action. If, as we
have a right to assume, the same proportion held among the
enlisted men, our total loss in killed and wounded could not
have exceeded two hundred or two hundred and fifty, or more
than one hundred less than the enemy's loss. Parsons and
Atlee write that they lost but two or three. Miles says that
in one of his skirmishes he lost a number of men, but nearly
all were made prisoners. Little's regiment lost one killed;
Hitchcock's the same. The five companies of Smallwood's
battalion that attacked Cornwallis lost but one officer
wounded, or at the most one killed and one wounded, and
there is no reason to suppose that the men suffered very
heavily. The loss among the Delawares was nearly all in
prisoners. Lutz had six officers taken, but none killed or
wounded; Hay lost one officer, either killed or prisoner. In
Kachlein's detachment it is certain that the
lieutenant-colonel, major, adjutant, three captains, and
three lieutenants were not killed, which leaves little room
for casualties in a party of not over four or five
companies. So of all the other regiments engaged, they
suffered but slightly in killed or wounded.
Howe's list of prisoners was undoubtedly swelled by captures
among the Long Island militia and citizen Whigs after the
battle. He includes General Woodhull and two lieutenants,
for instance, who were not taken at the battle but on the
day following, and who, as Washington says, were "never
arranged" in his army.
The reports of the slaughter and massacre of our troops
current in the enemy's camp at the time were greatly
exaggerated. Some of our men were probably cut down most
wantonly in the pursuit through the woods, both by British
and Hessians, but the number was small. It is a noticeable
and significant fact that the American accounts make no
mention of any such wholesale cruelty, and certainly our
soldiers would have been the first to call attention to it.
That word "massacre" should have no place in any accurate
description of the battle.