CHAPTER V.

THE RETREAT TO NEW YORK.

The situation at the Brooklyn lines was relieved on the 29th by the

famous retreat of our army to New York. If Howe had surprised us by an

unexpected manoeuvre on the 27th, Washington was now to surprise the

British with a different manoeuvre, conducted with greater skill. "A

fine retreat," says Jomini, "should meet with a reward equal to that

given for a great victory." History assigns such a reward to

Washington at Long Island.

This success--the extrication of the army from what was soon felt to

be a dangerous position--was not to be achieved without a previous two

days' experience of great hardship, trial, and despondency on the part

of the troops; and unceasing anxiety and watchfulness on the part of

the commander-in-chief. The night of the 27th had closed cheerlessly

on the devoted Americans. The hills had been wrested from them; many

of their best officers and soldiers were slain or prisoners; before

them stood the whole British army, flushed with success, and liable at

any hour to rush upon their works, and in their rear flowed a deep,

wide river.

Washington realized the position the moment of the retreat from the

passes, and immediately took measures to guard against further

disaster. Satisfied that Howe had his whole force with him, and that

an attack was not to be apprehended at any other point, he ordered

forward more troops to replace his losses and strengthen the lines.

Mifflin brought down from Harlem Heights the two well-drilled

Pennsylvania regiments under Colonels Magaw and Shee, with some

others; and Glover's Massachusetts was sent on from Fellows' brigade.

These all crossed to Long Island early on the morning of the 28th. At

the same time, the afternoon of the 27th, Washington sent word to

General Mercer in New Jersey to march all the forces under his command

"immediately to Powle's Hook";[160] they might be needed in New York,

they might be needed on Long Island. By the morning of the 28th, the

commander-in-chief had drawn to the Brooklyn lines all the troops that

could be spared from other points, and all with which he proposed to

resist the British if they attempted to carry his position by storm.

He had on that side the largest and best part of his army. The whole

of Greene's division was there, the whole of Spencer's, half of

Sullivan's, one third of Putnam's, and a part of Heath's--in all not

less than thirty-five regiments or detachments, which numbered

together something over nine thousand five hundred men fit for

duty.[161]

[Footnote 160: This order was sent at two o'clock through General

Wooster, then temporarily in New York, and Mercer received it in the

evening near Newark. He sent word at once to the militia at Amboy,

Woodbridge, and Elizabethtown to march to Powle's Hook. _Force_, 5th

Series, vol. ii.]

[Footnote 161: A close analysis of the returns of September 12th,

estimating all additions or reductions which should be made since the

battle, shows that this was about the number on Long Island at this

date and at the time of the retreat. The brigades now there were

Nixon's, Heard's, Parson's, Wadsworth's, Stirling's, Scott's, two

regiments of Mifflin's, one at least of McDougall's (Webb's),

Glover's, and Fellows', the Long Island militia, artillery, rangers,

and several independent companies. We know at what part of the lines

some of these troops were posted. Greene's four old regiments

doubtless occupied the forts. Varnum was at Red Hook; Little at Fort

Greene; Hitchcock at Fort Putnam, and Hand with him there and in the

redoubt on the left. Forman's New Jersey had been at Fort Box. Three

of Scott's battalions were assigned to the centre, where the

breastworks crossed the Jamaica Road. Magaw, Shee, and Glover guarded

the line from Fort Putnam to the Wallabout; Silliman was at the

"northern part" of the works, probably on the right of Fort Putnam;

Gay's was between Fort Box and the Marsh; Douglas watched the extreme

right in the woods at the mouth of Gowanus Creek; and there was a

"reserve," which perhaps included among others the remnants of

Stirling's shattered brigade. Encircling them a mile or a mile and a

half distant in the edge of the woods, lay the British army with tents

already pitched in many places. North and south of the Jamaica Road,

just below Bedford, was Howe's main column; within and west of

Prospect Park were the Hessians; and on the right, Grant's division

bivouacked along the Gowanus Road.]

Had all things been relatively equal, the Americans within the lines,

according to military experience, should have been well able to hold

that front. But there was a total inequality of conditions. The enemy

were thoroughly equipped, disciplined, and provided for. They were an

army of professional soldiers, superior to any that could be brought

against them the world over. Thus far they had carried everything

before them, and were eager to achieve still greater victories. Behind

the Brooklyn works stood a poorly armed, badly officered, and for the

most part untrained mass of men, hurriedly gathered into the semblance

of an army. The events of the previous day, moreover, had greatly

depressed their spirits. Not a few of those who had been engaged in or

witnessed the battle were badly demoralized. To make matters worse,

the very elements seemed to combine against them. The two days they

were still to remain on the island were days of "extraordinary wet."

It rained almost continuously, and much of the time heavily. No fact

is better attested than this. August 28th, writes Colonel Little,

"weather very rainy;" "29th, very rainy." Major Tallmadge speaks of

the fatigue as having been aggravated by the "heavy rain." "The heavy

rain which fell two days and nights without intermission, etc.," said

the council which voted to retreat. Pastor Shewkirk in his diary notes

the weather particularly: "Wednesday 28th," he writes, ... "in the

afternoon we had extraordinary heavy rains and thunder." The flashes

of the cannons were intermixed with flashes of lightning. On the 29th,

"in the afternoon, such heavy rain fell again as can hardly be

remembered." To all this deluge our soldiers were exposed with but

little shelter. Necessity required that they should be at the lines,

and constantly on the watch, ready to repel any attempt to storm them.

When they lay down in the trenches at brief intervals for rest, they

kept their arms from the wet as they could. Cooking was out of the

question, and the men were compelled to take up with the unaccustomed

fare of hard biscuits and raw pork. Their wretched plight is referred

to in more than one of the letters of the day. Writes General Scott:

"You may judge of our situation, subject to almost incessant rains,

without baggage or tents, and almost without victuals or drink, and in

some part of the lines the men were standing up to their middles in

water." Captain Olney puts it on record that "the rain fell in such

torrents that the water was soon ankle deep in the fort. Yet with all

these inconveniences, and a powerful enemy just without musket-shot,

our men could not be kept awake." Captain Graydon, of Shee's

Pennsylvanians, says in his well-known "Memoirs:" "We had no tents to

screen us from the pitiless pelting, nor, if we had them, would it

have comported with the incessant vigilance required to have availed

ourselves of them, as, in fact, it might be said that we lay upon our

arms during the whole of our stay upon the island. In the article of

food we were little better off." Under the circumstances could

Washington's force have withstood the shock of a determined assault by

the enemy?

In spite, however, of weather, hunger, and fatigue, there was many a

brave man in the American camp who kept up heart and obeyed all orders

with spirit. One thing is certain, the British were not permitted to

suspect the distressed condition of our army. Our pickets and

riflemen, thrown out in front of the works, put on a bold face. On the

28th there was skirmishing the greater part of the day, and in the

evening, as Washington reports, "it was pretty smart." Writing from

the trenches on the 29th, Colonel Silliman says: "Our enemy have

encamped in plain sight of our camp at the distance of about a mile

and a half. We have had no general engagement yet, but no day passes

without some smart and hot skirmishes between different parties, in

which the success is sometimes one way and sometimes another. We are

in constant expectation of a general battle; no one can be here long

without getting pretty well acquainted with the whistling of cannon

and musket shot." Scarcely any particulars of these encounters[162]

are preserved, though one of them, at least, appears to have been

quite an important affair. The enemy had determined to approach the

lines by regular siege rather than hazard an assault, and late in the

afternoon of the 28th they advanced in some force to break ground for

the first parallel. The point selected was doubtless the high ground

between Vanderbilt and Clinton avenues, on the line of De Kalb. As to

what occurred we have but the briefest account, and that is from the

pen of Colonel Little. "On the morning of the 28th," he writes, "the

enemy were encamped on the heights in front of our encampment. Firing

was kept up on both sides from the right to the left. Firing on both

sides in front of Fort Putnam. About sunset the enemy pushed to

recover the ground we had taken (about 100 rods) in front of the fort.

The fire was very hot; the enemy gave way, and our people recovered

the ground. The firing ceased, and our people retired to the fort. The

enemy took possession again, and on the morning of the 30th [29th] had

a breastwork there 60 rods long and 150 rods distant from Fort

Putnam." It was this move of the British, more than any incident since

the battle, that determined Washington's future course.

[Footnote 162: In vol. ii. of the L.I. Hist. Society's "Memoirs," the

author, Mr. Field, devotes pages 254-258 to the skirmishing of some

Connecticut soldiers on the extreme right on the other side of Gowanus

Creek, which appears to him to have been rash and foolhardy, and

strangely in contrast with what also appears to him to have been an

exhibition of cowardice on their part the day before. The narrative

from which the incidents are taken (Martin's) shows no such singular

inconsistency in the conduct of these men. This was Colonel Douglas'

regiment, and, as Martin himself says, it moved promptly under orders

from the ferry to the right to cover Stirling's retreat. "Our

officers," he writes, "pressed forward towards a creek, where a large

party of Americans and British were engaged." They very properly did

not halt to help a company of artillerymen drag their pieces along.

The skirmish on the following day was nothing remarkable in its way.

It was just such brushes as the men engaged in that Washington, on

Graydon's authority, encouraged. The regiment displayed no particular

rashness on the 28th, nor any cowardice on the 27th--that is, if

Martin is to be credited.]

During all these trying hours since the defeat on the 27th, the most

conspicuous figure to be seen, now at one point and now at another of

the threatened lines, was that of the commander-in-chief. Wherever his

inspiring presence seemed necessary, there he was to be found. He

cheered the troops night and day. All that the soldiers endured, he

endured. For forty-eight hours, or the whole of the 28th and 29th, he

took no rest whatever, and was hardly once off his horse. As he rode

among the men in the storm he spoke to some in person, and everywhere

he gave directions, while his aids were as tireless as their Chief in

assisting him.

But circumstanced as the army was, it was inevitable that the question

should come up: Can the defence of the Brooklyn front be continued

without great hazard? It could not have escaped the notice of a single

soldier on that side, that if, with the river in their rear, the enemy

should succeed in penetrating the lines, or the fleet be able to

command the crossing, they would all be lost. There was no safety but

in retreat; and for twenty-four hours from the morning of the 29th,

all the energies of the commander-in-chief were directed towards

making the retreat successful.

To few incidents of the Revolution does greater interest attach than

to this final scene in the operations on Long Island. The formal

decision to abandon this point was made by a council of war, held late

in the day of the 29th, at the house of Phillip Livingston, then

absent as a member of the Continental Congress at Philadelphia. The

mansion made historic by this event stood on the line of Hicks Street,

just south of Joralemon.[163] There were present at the council, the

commander-in-chief, Major-Generals Putnam and Spencer, and

Brigadier-Generals Mifflin, McDougall, Parsons, Scott, Wadsworth, and

Fellows. As far as known, Scott alone of these generals has left us

any thing in regard to what transpired on the occasion beyond the

final result. He preserves the interesting fact that when the

proposition to retreat was presented it took him by surprise and he as

suddenly objected to it, "from an aversion to giving the enemy a

single inch of ground." It was the soil of his own State. As a member

of the New York Convention and of the Committee of Safety, and now as

a general officer, he had spent months in uninterrupted preparations

to defend that soil, and on the first impulse of the moment the

thought of yielding any more of it to the invaders was not to be

entertained. But he was soon "convinced by unanswerable reasons," and

the vote of the council was unanimous for retreat. Eight separate

reasons were embodied in the decision. _First._ A defeat had been

sustained on the 27th, and the woods lost where it was proposed to

make "a principal stand." _Second._ The loss in officers and men had

occasioned great confusion and discouragement among the troops.

_Third._ The rain had injured the arms and much of the ammunition, and

the soldiers were so worn out, that it was feared that they could not

be kept at the lines by any order. _Fourth._ The enemy appeared to be

endeavoring to get their ships into the East River to cut off

communication with New York, but the wind as yet had not served them.

_Fifth._ There were no obstructions sunk in the Channel between Long

and Governor's Island, and the council was assured by General

McDougall, "from his own nautic experience," that small ships could

sail up by that channel; the hulks, also, sunk between Governor's

Island and the Battery were regarded as insufficient obstructions for

that passage. _Sixth._ Though the lines were fortified by several

strong redoubts, the breastworks were weak, being "abattised with

brush" only in some places, and the enemy might break through them.

_Seventh._ The divided state of the army made a defence precarious.

_Eighth._ Several British men-of-war had worked their way into

Flushing Bay from the Sound, and with their assistance the enemy could

cross a force to the mainland in Westchester County, and gain the

American rear in the vicinity of King's Bridge. In view of these

considerations a retreat was considered imperative.

[Footnote 163: See _Document_ 6, in which General Scott says: "I was

summoned to a council of war at Mr. Phillip Livingston's house on

Thursday, 29th ult., etc."]

This was the official record of the council's action as afterwards

transmitted to Congress. It is not to be inferred, however, that

retreat was not thought of, or that nothing was done to effect it

until the council met. That Washington had foreseen the necessity of

the move, that he discussed it with others, and that he had already

begun the necessary preparations, is obvious both from the record and

from all that occurred during the day. The council did no more than to

coincide in his views and confirm his judgment.[164]

[Footnote 164: ORIGIN OF THE RETREAT.--Precisely when and why

Washington came to a determination in his own mind to retreat has been

made the subject of a somewhat nice historical inquiry. Gordon gives

one story; Mr. William B. Reed, biographer of Colonel Reed, gives

another; and Mr. Bancroft, General Carrington, and others indulge in

more or less extended criticisms on the point. Gordon's account is the

most probable and the best supported.

Whatever Washington may have thought of the situation on Long Island

after the defeat, it is enough to know that he immediately reinforced

himself there, and that on the 27th and 28th he made no preparations

to withdraw to New York. It far from follows, however, that he had

concluded to stay and fight it out "on that line" at all hazards. He

was acting on the defensive, and was necessarily obliged to guide

himself largely by the movements of the enemy. On Long Island,

therefore, he could only be on the watch, and, like a prudent general,

decide according to circumstances. Up to the morning of the 29th he

was still watching--watching not only the enemy, but his own army

also. In his letter to Congress, written at "half after 4 o'clock

A.M." of this date, he gives no intimation of a retreat, but rather

leaves that body to infer that he proposed to remain where he was. He

speaks, for instance, of expecting tents during the day to make the

troops more comfortable. On the same morning Reed wrote: "We hope to

be able to make a good stand, as our lines are pretty strong;" and he

doubtless reflected the views of his Chief at the time.

The two particular dangers now to which the army was exposed were the

danger of having its communication with New York cut off by the ships,

and the danger of being approached by the enemy in front by siege

operations, which the army was not prepared to meet. The first danger

had existed ever since the arrival of the enemy, and had been provided

for. All the batteries on Governor's Island and on both sides of the

East River had been built to guard against it. In addition, ships had

been sunk in the channel. Washington accordingly must have thoroughly

canvassed the risks he ran in regard to his communications. _These

alone had not decided him to retreat._ On the morning of the 29th,

however, he first became aware of the second danger. It was not until

then that the enemy fully developed their intention of advancing by

trenches. After working all night, as Howe reports, they had thrown up

by morning, as Little reports, a parallel sixty rods long and one

hundred and fifty rods distant from Fort Putnam. Reed wrote, "They are

intrenching at a small distance." In twenty-four hours at the farthest

they would have come within very close range, and the hazardous

alternative would have been forced upon us to attempt to drive them

out of their own works. Washington well knew that, in view of the

condition of his men and the great disparity of numbers, this could

not be done. When, therefore, he became assured of Howe's intentions

he acted promptly--_he determined to retreat_; and this determination

he reached early on the morning of the 29th.

This is substantially the theory which Gordon presents as a fact, and

it is most consistent with fact. Gordon's account is this: "The

victorious army encamped in the front of the American works in the

evening; and on the 28th at night broke ground in form about 4 or 500

yards distant from a redoubt which covered the left of the Americans.

The same day Gen. Mifflin crossed over from New York with 1000 men; at

night he made an offer to Gen. Washington of going the rounds, which

was accepted. He observed the approaches of the enemy, and the

forwardness of their batteries; and was convinced that no time was to

be lost. The next morning he conversed with the General upon the

subject, and said, 'You must either fight or retreat immediately. What

is your strength?' The General answered, 'Nine thousand.' The other

replied, 'It is not sufficient, we must therefore retreat.' They were

both agreed as to the calling of a Council of war; and Gen. Mifflin

was to propose a retreat. But as he was to make that proposal, lest

his own character should suffer, he stipulated, that if a retreat

should be agreed upon, he would command the rear; and if an action the

van."

The fact that Mifflin was given the command of the rear on the

retreat, and the fact that he sent the order to Heath that morning to

send down all the boats from King's Bridge, lend the highest

probability to Gordon's version of the story. Parsons, who was one of

the members of the council, mentions this particularly as one of the

reasons for withdrawing, namely, that the enemy were "not disposed to

storm our lines, but set down to make regular approaches to us." Reed

also puts as much stress on this point as any other. Giving the

reasons for the retreat to Governor Livingston, he said: "The enemy at

the same time possessed themselves of a piece of ground very

advantageous and which they had [fortified]. We were therefore reduced

to the alternative of retiring to this place or going out with

[troops] to drive them off." Washington, too, is to be quoted. In his

letter to Trumbull, September 6th, he writes: "As the main body of the

enemy had encamped not far from our lines, and as I had reason to

believe they intended to force us from them by regular approaches,

which the nature of the ground favoured extremely, and at the same

time meant, by the ships of war, to cut off the communication between

the City and Island, and by that means keep our men divided and unable

to oppose them anywhere, by the advice of the General officers, on the

night of the 29th, I withdrew our troops from thence without any loss

of men and but little baggage."

William B. Reed's account (Reed's Life of Reed) is to the effect,

briefly, that a heavy fog settled over Long Island on the 29th, and

that during the day Colonel Reed, Colonel Grayson, and General Mifflin

rode to Red Hook inspecting the lines. While at the Hook, "a shift of

wind" cleared the fog from the harbor, enabling the officers to catch

a glimpse of the fleet at the Narrows. From certain movements of boats

they inferred that the ships would sail up with the favorable breeze

if it held until the tide turned and the fog cleared off. They

immediately hurried to Washington, informed him of the impending

danger, and induced him to call a council and order a retreat. Mr.

Bancroft, however, has shown very thoroughly that this account cannot

be accepted, because the fog did not come up until the morning of the

30th, and no change of wind occurred. Colonel Reed himself says in the

Livingston letter, written only the next morning, that the enemy's

fleet were attempting every day to get up to town with "the wind

_ahead_"--thus directly contradicting his biographer. The Reed account

has several errors of detail, one being the statement that the Red

Hook battery had been badly damaged by the guns of the Roebuck on the

27th. It would be nearer the truth to say that it was not hit at all.

The fleet could do nothing that day; as Admiral Howe reports, the

Roebuck was "the only ship that could fetch high enough to the

northward to exchange _a few random shot_ with the battery on Red

Hook."

In a word, Washington, after receiving Mifflin's report in regard to

the approaches of the enemy, and probably other reports from Grayson,

Reed, and others in regard to the general condition of the troops (for

instance, Colonel Shee's uneasiness, referred to by Graydon), found

that the moment had come for decision. That decision was to retreat

that night; and during the forenoon, several hours before the council

met, he issued secret orders for the concentration of boats at the

ferry, as described in the text.]

The first thing necessary was to provide all the transportation

available in order to accomplish the retreat in the shortest time

possible after beginning it. There were boats at the Brooklyn ferry

and across at New York, but these were too few for the purpose.

Accordingly, on the forenoon of the 29th, Washington sent an order

through Mifflin to General Heath at King's Bridge to the following

effect:

LONG ISLAND, August 29th, 1776.

DEAR GENERAL--We have many battalions from New Jersey which

are coming over to relieve others here. You will please

therefore to order every flat bottomed boat and other craft

at your post, fit for transporting troops, down to New York

as soon as possible. They must be manned by some of Colonel

Hutchinson's men and sent without the least delay. I write

by order of the General. I am Affectionately Yours

MIFFLIN.

At about the same time, Colonel Trumbull, the commissary-general, was

directed to carry a verbal order to Assistant Quartermaster Hughes at

New York, "to impress every kind of water craft from Hell Gate on the

Sound to Spuyten Duyvil Creek that could be kept afloat and that had

either sails or oars, and have them all in the east harbor of the City

by dark."[165] These two orders were carried out with great energy,

promptness, and secrecy by all who had any part in their execution.

Heath "immediately complied" with what Mifflin had written, and sent

down all his boats under Hutchinson's men from Salem, who, like

Glover's from Marblehead, were, many of them, the best of sailors. He

brooked the less delay, perhaps, because he saw at once that

Washington's "real intention" was, not to be reinforced from New

Jersey, but to retreat from Long Island.[166] Hughes, on his part, was

untiring, and rendered the greatest service. He would have been

mistaken this day rather for the master of a military school, than for

what he had been--the master of a classical one. For twenty-two hours,

as his biographer tells us, he never dismounted from his horse, but

superintended the collection of the vessels from all points, and at

evening had them ready for their purpose.[167]

[Footnote 165: Memorial of Colonel Hugh Hughes. Leake's Life of

General Lamb.]

[Footnote 166: Heath's Memoirs.]

[Footnote 167: There is an interesting letter of Washington's

preserved in the Hughes Memorial, which adds light on this point.

Eight years after the event, when Hughes needed some official

certificate showing his authority to impress all the craft he could

find, the general replied to him as follows:

"My memory is not charged with the particulars of the verbal order

which you say was delivered to you through Col. Joseph Trumbull, on

the 27th, August, 1776, 'for impressing all the sloops, boats, and

water craft from Spyhten Duyvel, in the Hudson, to Hell Gate, in the

Sound.' I recollect that it was a day which required the utmost

exertion, particularly in the Quarter-Master's department, to

accomplish the retreat which was intended, under cover of the

succeeding night; and that no delay or ceremony could be admitted in

the execution of the plan. I have no doubt, therefore, of your having

received orders to the effect, and to the extent which you have

mentioned; and you are at liberty to adduce this in testimony thereof.

It will, I presume, supply the place of a more formal certificate, and

is more consonant with my recollection of the transactions of that

day." It appears from this that Washington remembered that the _entire

day_ of the 29th was devoted to planning and preparing for the

retreat, and this fits the theory advanced in the note on the "Origin

of the Retreat." As to the delivery of the orders about boats, it is

probable that Trumbull crossed to New York with Mifflin's letter to

Heath and gave it to Hughes to forward. At the same time he gave

Hughes his instructions verbally. Hughes received them, says his

biographer, about noon. He then had eight hours to carry them out,

which gave him time to send to Heath and for Heath to comply, while he

and his assistants scoured the coast everywhere else for boats, from

Hell Gate down. Among other sloops impressed was the Middlesex,

Captain Stephen Hogeboom, while on its way to Claverack. "I was

prevented from proceeding," says the captain, "by Coll Wardsworth and

Commissary Hughes who ordered your memorialist over with the sloop to

Long Island ferry where she was used to carry off the Troops and

stores after the unfortunate retreat, &c."--_N.Y. Hist. MS._, vol. i.,

p. 620.]

The final withdrawal of the troops from the lines was effected under

the cover of a plausible general order, which was the only one known

to have been issued by the commander-in-chief while on Long

Island.[168] This order now comes to light for the first time, and is

important as serving to correct the improbable though standard theory

that the regiments were moved from their posts under the impression

that they were to make a night attack upon the enemy.[169] The order

as actually given was far more rational, and less likely to excite

suspicion as to its true intent. In the first place, the sick, "being

an encumbrance to the army" were directed to be sent to the hospital,

their arms and accoutrements taken with them, and from there to be

conveyed across to New York and reported to Surgeon-General Morgan. In

the next place, the order announced that troops under General Mercer

were expected that afternoon from New Jersey, with whom it was

proposed to relieve a proportionate number of the regiments on Long

Island, and "make a change in the situation of them." In view of the

distressed condition of most of the troops at the lines, the propriety

of such a "change" was obvious; and in all probability Washington did

originally intend to make the relief. And last, as it was apparently

undecided what regiments were to be relieved, they were all, or the

greater part of them, directed "to parade with their arms,

accoutrements, and knapsacks, at 7 o'clock, at the head of their

encampments and there wait for orders." On the evening of the 29th,

accordingly, we find the troops ready at their camps and the lines to

march off at a moment's notice, and all prepared for a retreat by the

most natural arrangement that could have been devised to conceal the

real design.[170]

[Footnote 168: _Document_ 3. "General Orders. Head-Quarters Long

Island, Aug. 29, 1776. Parole, _Sullivan_, Countersign,

_Greene_."--_Col. Douglas' Order Book._]

[Footnote 169: All our principal accounts follow Graydon, who states

that the order to attack the enemy was given "regimentally." Colonel

Hand, in his letter describing the night's incidents (Reed's Life of

Reed), makes no allusion to such an order, but on the contrary states

that he and the other colonels of the covering party were told that

they were to retreat. An order to attack would have been a poor

disguise for a retreat, for every man must have felt its utter

rashness and at once suspected some other move.]

[Footnote 170: A letter from Tilghman, Washington's aid, shows that

the troops received the impression that they were to be relieved. The

retreat, he says, "was conducted with so much Secrecy that neither

Subalterns or privates knew that the whole army was to cross back

again to N. York; they thought only a few regiments were to go

back."--_Document_ 29.]

At dark, the withdrawal began. As one regiment moved away towards the

ferry another would have its situation "changed" to fill the gap, or

extended from right to left. Every move at first was conducted busily,

yet quietly and without confusion. Colonel Little, referring to his

part this night, leaves the simple record that the general ordered

each regiment to be paraded on their own parades at seven o'clock

P.M., and wait for orders. "We received orders," he says, "to strike

our tents and march, with our baggage, to New York." Colonel Douglas

writes: "I received orders to call in my guard _all_, and march

immediately with the utmost silence." Hitchcock's Rhode Islanders

carried their baggage and camp equipage to the boats on their

shoulders "through mud and mire and not a ray of light visible." The

embarkation was made from the ferry--the present Fulton Ferry--where

General McDougall superintended the movements. Between seven and eight

o'clock the boats were manned by Glover's and Hutchinson's men, and

they went to work with sailor-like cheer and despatch. The militia and

levies were the first to cross, though there was some vexing delay in

getting them off. Unluckily, too, about nine o'clock the adverse wind

and tide and pouring rain began to make the navigation of the river

difficult. A north-easter sprang up, and Glover's men could do nothing

with the sloops and sail-boats. If the row-boats only were to be

depended upon, all the troops could not be ferried over before

morning. Discouraged at the prospect, McDougall sent Colonel Grayson,

of Washington's staff, to inform the general as to how matters stood,

but unable to find him Grayson returned, and McDougall went on with

the embarkation in spite of its difficulties. Most fortunately,

however, at eleven o'clock there was another and a favorable change in

the weather. The north-east wind died away, and soon after a gentle

breeze set in from the south-west, of which the sailors took quick

advantage, and the passage was now "direct, easy, and expeditious."

The troops were pushed across as fast as possible in every variety of

craft--row-boats, flat-boats, whale-boats, pettiaugers, sloops, and

sail-boats--some of which were loaded to within three inches of the

water, which was "as smooth as glass."

[Illustration: [signature: J.W. Glover]

COLONEL FOURTEENTH REGIMENT OF FOOT (MASS.) BRIGADIER GENERAL 1777.

Steel Engr. F. von Egloffstein N.Y.]

Meanwhile nearly a fatal blunder occurred at the lines. Early in the

evening, a force had been selected, consisting of Hand's, Smallwood's,

Haslet's, Shee's, Magaw's, and Chester's regiments, to remain at the

works to the last and cover the retreat. General Mifflin commanded the

party. Smallwood's men were stationed in Fort Putnam, part of Hand's

under Captain Miller in the redoubt on the left, and the rest at the

lines on the right of the main road; and the other regiments near

them. Brooklyn Church was to be the alarm-post, where the covering

party was to concentrate in case the enemy attacked during the night.

About two o'clock in the morning, Major Scammell, one of Sullivan's

aids now serving with Washington, mistook his orders and started

Mifflin's entire command for the ferry. All the regiments had left the

lines and were marching down the main road, when Washington, who

seemed to be everywhere during the night, met them and exclaimed in

astonishment that unless the lines were immediately re-manned "the

most disagreeable consequences" might follow, as every thing then

was in confusion at the ferry. Mifflin's party promptly faced about

and reoccupied their stations until dawn, when Providence again

"interposed in favor of the retreating army." To have attempted to

withdraw in clear daylight would have been a hazardous experiment for

these regiments, but just before dawn a heavy fog began to settle over

Long Island, and the covering party was safe. So dense was this

"heavenly messenger," as Gordon happily describes it, that it

effectually hid the American lines from the British pickets. When the

final order, therefore, came about sunrise for Mifflin's men to retire

to the ferry, they were enabled to do so under cover of the fog

without exciting any suspicion of their movements in the enemy's

camp.[171] "We kept up fires, with outposts stationed," says

Lieutenant-Colonel Chambers, "until all the rest were over. We left

the lines after it was fair day and then came off." As our soldiers

withdrew they distinctly heard the sound of pickaxe and shovel at the

British works.[172] Before seven o'clock the entire force had crossed

to New York, and among the last to leave was the commander-in-chief.

"General Washington," adds Chambers, "saw the last over himself."

[Footnote 171: Mr. Reed, the biographer, states that the fog rose on

the 29th. Dr. Stiles, in his "History of Brooklyn," says: "At midnight

a dense fog arose, which remained motionless and impenetrable over the

island during the whole of the next day [the 29th]." "A dense fog,"

writes Mr. Field, "hung over the island and river, when the morning of

the 29th dawned." Now nothing is more certain than that the fog did

not rise until shortly before dawn of the 30th, full six hours after

the retreat had begun. The 28th and 29th, as already seen, were days

of rain-storms, not mist, nor fog, but storm, "torrents," such rain at

times the like of which could "hardly be remembered." Contemporary

writers who mention the rains say nothing of fog on the 29th, whereas

they do notice its appearance the next morning. Major Tallmadge

writes: "As the dawn of the next day approached, those of us who

remained in the trenches became very anxious for our own safety, and

when the dawn appeared, there were several regiments still on duty. At

this time a very dense fog began to rise, and it seemed to settle in a

peculiar manner over both encampments. I recollect this peculiar

providential occurrence perfectly well; and so very dense was the

atmosphere that I could scarcely discern a man at six yards'

distance." This officer's regiment was one of the covering party, and

he adds that after leaving the lines by mistake, and receiving orders

to return, "Col. Chester immediately faced to the right about and

returned, where we tarried until the sun had risen, but the fog

remained as dense as ever." "At sunrise a great fog came up," says a

spectator (_Stiles' MS. Diary_). An officer or soldier of either

Shee's or Magaw's regiment, also of the covering party, wrote a few

hours after crossing: "We received orders to quit our station about

two o'clock this morning, and had made our retreat almost to the ferry

when Gen. Washington ordered us back to that part of the lines we were

first at, which was reckoned to be the most dangerous post. We got

back undiscovered by the enemy, and continued there until daylight.

Providentially for us, a great fog arose, which prevented the enemy

from seeing our retreat from their works which was not more than

musket shot from us."--_Force_, 5th Series, vol. i., p. 1233. So also,

Stedman, the British historian, referring to the events of the night

of the 29th-30th, says: "Another remarkable circumstance was, that on

Long Island hung a thick fog, which prevented the British troops from

discovering the operations of the enemy." Washington did not, as often

stated in popular accounts, take advantage of a fog to cover his

retreat. More than half the army was over before the fog appeared; but

it protected the covering party, and saved us the loss of considerable

baggage and other material.]

[Footnote 172: An English patrol under Captain Montressor discovered

the retreat of the Americans very soon after the latter left the

lines, and reported the fact at once. But for some unexplained reason

pursuit was delayed until too late. One boat with four stragglers was

taken by the enemy.]

By the army the retreat was welcomed as a great relief, a salvation

from probable calamity. Not a few appreciated its completeness and

success as a strictly military move. "This evacuation," writes one,

"is a masterpiece." "That grand retreat from the Island which will

ever reflect honour to our Generals," says another. "Considering the

difficulties," is Greene's criticism, "it was the best effected

retreat I ever read or heard of." "It was executed," says Scott, "with

unexpected success." But in the country at large it was generally

associated with the defeat of the 27th, and the skilfulness with which

it was conducted little compensated for the fact that the retreat was

forced upon us.

The Campaign of 1776 around New York and Brooklyn Including a new and circumstantial account of the battle of Long island and the loss of New York, with a review of events to the close of the year · 第 7 / 13 章