Part 1043

"At daybreak the British awoke, but it was too late. They had fought a successful battle, they had had the American army in their grasp, and now all was over. The victory had melted away, and, as a grand result, they had a few hundred prisoners, a stray boat with three camp-followers, and the deserted works in which they stood. To make such a retreat as this was a feat of arms as great as most victories, and in it we see, perhaps as plainly as anywhere, the nerve and quickness of the man who conducted it. It is true it was the only chance of salvation, but the great man is he who is entirely master of his opportunity, even if he have but one. The outlook, nevertheless, was, as Washington wrote, 'truly distressing.' The troops were dispirited, and the militia began to disappear, us they always did after a defeat. Congress would not permit the destruction of the city, different interests pulled in different directions, conflicting opinions distracted the councils of war, and, with utter inability to predict the enemy's movements, everything led to halfway measures and to intense anxiety, while Lord Howe tried to negotiate with Congress, and the Americans waited for events, Washington, looking beyond the confusion of the moment, saw that he had gained much by delay, and had his own plan well defined. … Everyone else, however, saw only past defeat and present peril.

{3238}

The British ships gradually made their way up the river, until it became apparent that they intended to surround and cut off the American army. Washington made preparations to withdraw, but uncertainty of information came near rendering his precautions futile. September 15th the men-of-war opened fire, and troops were landed near Kip's Bay. The militia in the breastworks at that point had been at Brooklyn and gave way at once, communicating their panic to two Connecticut regiments. Washington, galloping down to the scene of battle, came upon the disordered and flying troops. He dashed in among them, conjuring them to stop, but even while he was trying to rally them they broke again on the appearance of some sixty or seventy of the enemy, and ran in all directions. In a tempest of anger Washington drew his pistols, struck the fugitives with his sword, and was only forced from the field by one of his officers seizing the bridle of his horse and dragging him away from the British, now within a hundred yards of the spot. … The rout and panic over, Washington quickly turned to deal with the pressing danger. With coolness and quickness he issued his orders, and succeeded in getting his army off, Putnam's division escaping most narrowly. He then took post at King's Bridge, and began to strengthen and fortify his lines. While thus engaged, the enemy advanced, and on the 16th a sharp skirmish was fought, in which the British were repulsed, and great bravery was shown by the Connecticut and Virginia troops, the two commanding officers being killed. This affair, which was the first gleam of success, encouraged the troops, and was turned to the best account by the general. Still a successful skirmish did not touch the essential difficulties of the situation, which then as always came from within, rather than without. To face and check 25,000 well equipped and highly disciplined soldiers, Washington had now some 12,000 men, lacking in everything which goes to make an army, except mere individual courage and a high average of intelligence. Even this meagre force was an inconstant and diminishing quantity, shifting, uncertain, and always threatening dissolution. The task of facing and fighting the enemy was enough for the ablest of men; but Washington was obliged also to combat and overcome the inertness and dullness born of ignorance, and to teach Congress how to govern a nation at war. … Meanwhile the days slipped along, and Washington waited on the Harlem Plains, planning descents on Long Island, and determining to make a desperate stand where he was, unless the situation decidedly changed. Then the situation did change, as neither he nor anyone else apparently had anticipated. The British warships came up the Hudson past the forts, brushing aside our boasted obstructions, destroying our little fleet, and getting command of the river. Then General Howe landed at Frog's Point, where he was checked for the moment by the good disposition of Heath, under Washington's direction. These two events made it evident that the situation of the American army was full of peril, and that retreat was again necessary. Such certainly was the conclusion of the council of war, on the 16th, acting this time in agreement with their chief. Six days Howe lingered on Frog's Point, bringing up stores or artillery or something, … and gave six days to Washington. They were of little value to Howe, but they were of inestimable worth to Washington, who employed them in getting everything in readiness, in holding his council of war, and then on the 17th in moving deliberately off to very strong ground at White Plains. … On the 28th, Howe came up to Washington's position, and found the Americans quite equal in numbers, strongly intrenched, and awaiting his attack with confidence. He hesitated, doubted, and finally feeling that he must do something, sent 4,000 men to storm Chatterton Hill, an outlying post, where some 1,400 Americans were stationed. There was a short, sharp action, and then the Americans retreated in good order to the main army, having lost less than half as many men as their opponents. With caution now much enlarged, Howe sent for reinforcements, and waited two days. The third day it rained, and on the fourth Howe found that Washington had withdrawn to a higher and quite impregnable line of hills, where he held all the passes in the rear and awaited a second attack. Howe contemplated the situation for two or three days longer, and then broke camp and withdrew to Dobbs Ferry. Such were the great results of the victory of Long Island, two wasted months, and the American army still untouched. Howe was resolved, however, that his campaign, should not be utterly fruitless, and therefore directed his attention to the defences of the Hudson, Fort Lee, and Fort Washington, and here he met with better success. Congress, in its military wisdom, had insisted that these forts must and could be held. … An attempt was made to hold both forts, and both were lost, as he [Washington] had foreseen. From Fort Lee the garrison withdrew in safety. Fort Washington was carried by storm, after a severe struggle. Twenty-six hundred men and all the munitions of war fell into the hands of the enemy. It was a serious and most depressing loss, and was felt throughout the continent. Meantime Washington had crossed into the Jerseys, and, after the loss of Fort Lee, began to retreat before the British, who, flushed with victory, now advanced rapidly under Lord Cornwallis."

_H. C. Lodge, George Washington, volume 1, chapter 6._

ALSO IN: _H. B. Carrington, Battles of the American Revolution, chapters 33-36._

_G. W. Greene, Life of Nathanael Greene, chapters 8-11 (volume 1)._

_B. J. Lossing, Field Book of the American Revolution, volume 2, chapter 23._

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA: A. D. 1776 (October). Connecticut assumes independence and sovereignty.

See CONNECTICUT: A. D. 1776.

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA: A. D. 1776-1777. Washington's retreat through New Jersey and his masterly return movement. The victories at Trenton and Princeton retrieving the situation.

"On the 17th [of November] Washington ordered Lee [who had lately returned from the south, and who had command of 7,000 men at Northcastle] to come over and join him; but Lee disobeyed, and in spite of repeated orders from Washington he stayed at Northcastle till the 2d of December. General Ward had some time since resigned, so that Lee now ranked next to Washington. A good many people were finding fault with the latter for losing the 3,000 men at Fort Washington, although, as we have seen, that was not his fault but the fault of Congress. {3239} Lee now felt that if Washington were ruined, he would surely become his successor in the command of the army, and so, instead of obeying his orders, he spent his time in writing letters calculated to injure him. Lee's disobedience thus broke the army in two, and did more for the British than they had been able to do for themselves since they started from Staten Island. It was the cause of Washington's flight through New Jersey, ending on the 8th of December, when he put himself behind the Delaware river, with scarcely 3,000 men. Here was another difficulty. The American soldiers were enlisted for short terms, and when they were discouraged, as at present, they were apt to insist upon going home as soon as their time had expired. It was generally believed that Washington's army would thus fall to pieces within a few days. Howe did not think it worth while to be at the trouble of collecting boats wherewith to follow him across the Delaware. Congress fled to Baltimore. People in New Jersey began taking the oath of allegiance to the crown. Howe received the news that he had been knighted for his victory on Long Island, and he returned to New York to celebrate the occasion. While the case looked so desperate for Washington, events at the north had taken a less unfavourable turn. Carleton [who began preparations to invade the province of New York as soon as Arnold retreated from Canada] had embarked on Lake Champlain early in the autumn with his fine army and fleet. Arnold had fitted up a small fleet to oppose his advance, and on the 11th of October there had been a fierce naval battle between the two near Valcour Island, in which Arnold was defeated, while Carleton suffered serious damage. The British general then advanced upon Ticonderoga, but suddenly made up his mind that the season was too late for operations in that latitude. The resistance he had encountered seems to have made him despair of achieving any speedy success in that quarter, and on the 3d of November he started back for Canada. This retreat relieved General Schuyler at Albany of immediate cause for anxiety, and presently he detached seven regiments to go southward to Washington's assistance. On the 2d of December Lee crossed the Hudson with 4,000 men, and proceeded slowly to Morristown. Just what he designed to do was never known, but clearly he had no intention of going beyond the Delaware to assist Washington, whom he believed to be ruined. Perhaps he thought Morristown a desirable position to hold, as it certainly was. Whatever his plans may have been, they were nipped in the bud. For some unknown reason he passed the night of the 12th at an unguarded tavern, about four miles from his army; and there he was captured next morning by a party of British dragoons, who carried him off to their camp at Princeton. The dragoons were very gleeful over this unexpected exploit, but really they could not have done the Americans a greater service than to rid them of such a worthless creature. The capture of Lee came in the nick of time, for it set free his men to go to the aid of Washington. Even after this force and that sent by Schuyler had reached the commander-in-chief, he found he had only 6,000 men fit for duty. With this little force Washington instantly took the offensive. It was the turning-point in his career and in the history of the Revolutionary War. On Christmas, 1776, and the following nine days, an Washington's most brilliant powers were displayed. The British centre, 10,000 strong, lay at Princeton. The principal generals, thinking the serious business of the war ended, had gone to New York. An advanced party of Hessians, 1,000 strong, was posted on the bank of the Delaware at Trenton, and another one lower down, at Burlington. Washington decided to attack both these outposts, and arranged his troops accordingly, but when Christmas night arrived, the river was filled with great blocks of floating ice, and the only division which succeeded in crossing was the one that Washington led in person. It was less than 2,500 in number, but the moment had come when the boldest course was the safest. By daybreak Washington had surprised the Hessians at Trenton and captured them all. The outpost at Burlington, on hearing the news, retreated to Princeton. By the 31st Washington had got all his available force across to Trenton. Some of them were raw recruits just come in to replace others who had just gone home. At this critical moment the army was nearly helpless for want of money, and on New Year's morning Robert Morris was knocking at door after door in Philadelphia, waking up his friends to borrow the $50,000, which he sent off to Trenton before noon. The next day Cornwallis arrived at Princeton, and taking with him all the army, except a rear-guard of 2,000 men left to protect his communications, came on toward Trenton. When he reached that town, late in the afternoon, he found Washington entrenched behind a small creek just south of the town, with his back toward the Delaware river. 'Oho!' said Cornwallis, 'at last we have run down the old fox, and we will bag him in the morning.' He sent back to Princeton, and ordered the rearguard to come up. He expected next morning to cross the creek above Washington's right, and then press him back against the broad and deep river, and compel him to surrender. Cornwallis was by no means a careless general, but he seems to have gone to bed on that memorable night and slept the sleep of the just. Washington meanwhile was wide awake. He kept his front line noisily at work digging and entrenching, and made a fine show with his camp-fires. Then he marched his army to the right and across the creek, and got around Cornwallis's left wing and into his rear, and so went on gayly toward Princeton. At daybreak he encountered the British rear-guard, fought a sharp battle with it and sent it flying, with the loss of one-fourth of its number. The booming guns aroused Cornwallis too late. To preserve his communications with New York, he was obliged to retreat with all haste upon New Brunswick, while Washington's victorious army pushed on and occupied the strong position at Morristown. There was small hope of dislodging such a general from such a position. But to leave Washington in possession of Morristown was to resign to him the laurels of this half-year's work. For that position guarded the Highlands of the Hudson on the one hand, and the roads to Philadelphia on the other. Except that the British had taken the city of New York-which from the start was almost a foregone conclusion—they were no better off than in July when Lord Howe had landed on Staten Island. In nine days the tables had been completely turned. {3240} The attack upon, an outpost had developed into a campaign which quite retrieved the situation. The ill-timed interference of Congress, which had begun the series of disasters, was remedied; the treachery of Lee was checkmated; and the cause of American Independence, which on Christmas Eve had seemed hopeless, was now fairly set on its feet. Earlier successes had been local; this was continental. Seldom has so much been done with such slender means."

_J. Fiske, The War of Independence, chapter 6._

"The effect of these two unexpected strokes at Trenton and Princeton was to baffle Howe, and utterly disconcert his plans. Expecting to march upon Philadelphia at his leisure, he suddenly finds Washington turning about and literally cutting his way through the British posts, back to a point where he threatened Howe's flank and rear. The enemy were at once compelled to retire from all their positions below Brunswick, give up the thought of wintering in Philadelphia, and fall back to the vicinity of New York. When Horace Walpole heard of these movements, he wrote to Sir Horace Mann: 'Washington has shown himself both a Fabius and a Camillus. His march through our lines is allowed to have been a prodigy of generalship. In one word, I look upon a great part of America as lost to this country.' Here the campaign closed. Washington could not be dislodged from his strong mountain position, and Howe was satisfied to rest his troops and postpone further operations until the next season. Meantime the country took heart, Congress voted troops and supplies, and the army was recruited and organized on a better basis. 'The business of war is the result of Experience,' wrote Wolcott from Congress, with faith unshaken during the darkest hours of the campaign; and experience was now put to good profit. The crisis was passed. Events proved decisive. Hardship and anxiety were yet to come during succeeding years of the war; but it was the result of this year's struggle that cleared away misgivings and confirmed the popular faith in final success. England could do no more than she had done to conquer America; while America was now more ready than ever to meet the issue. Independence was established in the present campaign—in the year of its declaration; and more than to any others we owe this political privilege to the men who fought from Long Island to Princeton."

_H. P. Johnston, Campaign of 1776, Memoirs of the Long Island Historical Society, volume 3, part 1, chapter 8._

ALSO IN: _J. F. Hageman, History of Princeton, chapter 4, sections 4-5 (volume 1)._

_J. O. Raum, History of New Jersey, chapter 20 (volume 2)._

_W. B. Reed, Life of Joseph Reed, volume 1, chapter 4._

_W. C. Bryant and S. H. Gay, Popular History of the United States, volume 3, chapter 21._

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA: A. D. 1776-1777. Prisoners and exchanges. British treatment of captives. The Jersey Prison-ship and the Sugar-house prison.

In New York, during the British occupation of the city, "wretched indeed was the condition of the poor refugee, of the sick soldier, and, above all, the patriot prisoner. The newspapers are filled with calls for charitable contributions for women and children perishing with cold and hunger, for disabled soldiers and families without a shelter. … But if the favored Tories suffered, what must have been the condition of the patriot prisoners, confined by thousands in bleak barracks, churches, and prison-ships? Let us pass up Broadway, amidst the uncleared ruins, and, turning down Liberty Street, pause before a huge brick building near the Middle Dutch Church. It is five stories high, with broken windows, through which the fierce winds of winter rush unrestrained. Through its imperfect roof and various openings, snow, ice, and water penetrate to every part of the building. Sentries pace round its walls prepared to fire upon any of its maddened inmates who attempt in desperation to escape. Wounded men crawl to the windows begging aid; but the impassive sentinel turns back the gifts of the charitable. No communication with the prisoners can be allowed. The walls within are bare and cheerless, nor do any of the common conveniences of life soften the horrors of those dreary chambers. Yet the old Sugar-House is the most crowded building in New York, and hundreds of prisoners, some chained, others at large, fill its comfortless interior. In the old Sugar-House were confined the prisoners of Long Island, the captives of sudden forays, the patriot citizen, and the heroes of the rebel army. Clothed in rags and scarcely covered from the winter air, crowded in narrow apartments and broken by hunger and disease, the prisoners died by thousands. The sick lay down on beds of snow to perish; the feeble wounded quivered in the February blast. Food of the coarsest kind was served out to them in scanty measure, and devoured with the eagerness of famine. Every night ten or twenty died; every day their corpses were thrown into pits without a single rite of burial. When led out to be exchanged, the glad hope of freedom gave them no joy—they died on the way to their friends, or lingered out a few weeks of miserable decline in the hospitals of the Jerseys. So wretched was their condition that Washington refused to consider them fit subjects for exchange. 'You give us only the dead or dying,' he wrote to Howe, 'for our well-fed and healthy prisoners.' Howe, as if in mockery, replied that they had been kept in 'airy, roomy buildings,' on the same fare as his own soldiers. Washington pointed to the condition in which they reached him—diseased, famished, emaciated, and dying, as they were conducted to his quarters. Across the river, in Wallabout Bay, lay the prison-ship 'Jersey.' She was the hulk of a 64 gun ship, long unseaworthy, her masts and rigging gone, her figurehead broken off, and her whole appearance singularly repulsive. Yet on board of the Jersey were confined 1,200 captured seamen. She was never cleansed, and lay in that condition seven years. No fires warmed her occupants in winter, no screen sheltered them from the August sun; no physician visited the sick, no clergyman consoled the dying there. Poor and scanty food, the want of clothing, cleanliness, and exercise, and raging diseases that never ceased their ravages, made the Jersey a scene of human suffering to which the Black Hole of Calcutta might favorably compare. Benevolent Tories would sometimes convey by stealth food or clothing to her unhappy inmates; but this was little. Toward the close of the war the British, from shame or pity, made some improvement in her condition; but she remained throughout the contest a centre of sickness and death, always decimated by disease and always replenished with new victims. The bones of her dead, estimated at 11,000, lie buried on the Brooklyn shore. The crowded city itself was never free from contagion. In winter the smallpox made fearful ravages."

_E. Lawrence, New York in the Revolution (Harper's Magazine, July, 1868)._

ALSO IN: _Force's American Archives, 4th Series, volume 6, 5th Series, volumes 1-3._

_History Magazine, 1866, sup._

_W. C. Bryant and S. H. Gay, Popular History of the United States, volume 3, chapter 21._

{3241}

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA: A. D. 1776-1778. Attitude and feeling of France. Her disposition to aid the colonies and the reasons for it. The American embassy to the French court. Silas Deane and Beaumarchais. Franklin at Passy.