As the enemy showed a disposition to cross over into Westchester, Gen. Washington removed the main body of his army up to the White Plains, taking possession of the high ground North and East of the town. Here he seemed determined to take his stand, his lines extending from a mountain on the right, called Chadderton's Hill, to a lake or large pond of water on his left. An intrenchment was thrown up from right to left, behind which our army formed. Long poles with iron pikes upon them, supplied the want of bayonets. Chadderton's Hill was separated from the right of our intrenchment by a valley of some extent, with the river Bronx directly before it; but being within cannon shot of our intrenchment on the right, Gen. Washington thought it best to occupy it, and ordered Gen. McDougall, with 800 or 1000 men, to defend it, and if driven from it, to retire upon the right of the line. The American army were all at their several posts on the last September and beginning of October; and here it looked as if Gen. Washington intended to give battle to the British army. On the 27th October, 1776, it was announced at Head Quarters that the enemy was in motion from Westchester, through Eastchester, directly toward the White Plains. A detachment of 2000, or 3000 men was ordered to proceed on the Old York road to meet the enemy in front. As our brigade formed a part of the force, I, of course, was among them. Before the dawn of day, on the 28th of October, we learned that the enemy were in full march directly in front of us. Gen. Spencer, who commanded this body of troops in advance, immediately made the necessary disposition to receive the enemy, having the river Bronx on our right, and between us and the troops on Chadderton's Hill. At the dawn of day, the Hessian column advanced within musket shot of our troops, when a full discharge of musketry warned them of their danger. At first they fell back, but rallyed again immediately, and the column of British troops having advanced upon our left, made it necessary to retire. As stone walls were frequent, our troops occasionally formed behind them, and poured a destructive fire into the Hessian ranks.
It, however, became necessary to retreat wholly before such an overwhelming force. To gain Chadderton's Hill, it became necessary to cross the Bronx, which was fordable at that place. The troops immediately entered the river and ascended the Hill, while I being in the rear, and mounted on horseback, endeavored to hasten the last of our troops, the Hessians then being within musket shot. When I reached the bank of the river, and was about to enter it, our chaplain, the Rev. Dr. Trumbull, sprang up behind me on my horse, and came with such force as to carry me with my accoutrements, together with himself, headlong into the river. This so entirely disconcerted me, that by the time I reached the opposite bank of the river, the Hessian troops were about to enter it, and considered me as their prisoner. As we ascended the hill, I filed off to the right, expecting our troops on the hill would soon give them a volley. When they had advanced within a few yards of a stone wall, behind which Gen. McDougall had placed them, our troops poured upon the Hessian column, under Gen. Rahl, such a destructive fire, that they retreated down the hill in disorder, leaving a considerable number of the corps on the field. This relieved me from my perilous situation, and I immediately remounted my horse, and taking my course in the valley, directly between the hostile armies, I rode to Head Quarters, near the Court-house, and informed Gen. Washington of the situation of the troops on Chadderton's Hill. The enemy having rallied, and being reinforced, made a second attempt upon Gen. McDougall's detachment, who gave them a second warm reception; but, being overpowered, retired upon the right of our line, then in order of battle. A severe cannonade was kept up from both armies through the day, and every moment did we expect the enemy would have attempted to force us from our lines. In the mean time, Gen. Washington had begun to remove his stores and heavy baggage up to Northcastle. After remaining in our lines and on constant military duty for several days and nights, on the 1st of November Gen. Washington retired with his army to the heights in the neighborhood of Northcastle.
[Memoir of Col. Benjamin Tallmadge. Prepared by himself. New York, 1858.]
[No. 27.]
ACCOUNT OF EVENTS ON THE 15TH AND 16TH OF SEPTEMBER, 1776, BY PRIVATE JAMES S. MARTIN, OF COL. WM. DOUGLAS' REGIMENT
... One evening while lying here (Turtle Bay) we heard a heavy cannonade at the city; and before dark saw four of the enemy's ships that had passed the town and were coming up the East River; they anchored just below us. These ships were the Phœnix, of 44 guns; the Roebuck of 44; the Rose of 32; and another the name of which I have forgotten. Half of our regiment was sent off under the command of our Major, to man something that were called "lines," although they were nothing more than a ditch dug along on the bank of the river, with the dirt thrown out towards the water. They staid in these lines during the night, and returned to the camp in the morning unmolested. The other half of the regiment went the next night, under the command of the Lieut.-Colonel, upon the like errand. We arrived at the lines about dark, and were ordered to leave our packs in a copse wood, under a guard, and go into the lines without them; what was the cause of this piece of wise policy I never knew; but I knew the effects of it, which was, that I never saw my knapsack from that day to this; nor did any of the rest of our party, unless they came across them by accident in our retreat. We "manned the lines" and lay quite unmolested during the whole night. We had a chain of sentinels quite up the river for four or five miles in length. At an interval of every half hour, they passed the watch-word to each other—"All is well." I heard the British on board their shipping answer, "We will alter your tune before tomorrow night"—and they were as good as their word for once. It was quite a dark night, and at daybreak, the first thing that saluted our eyes, was all the four ships at anchor, with springs upon their cables, and within musket shot of us. The Phœnix, lying a little quartering, and her stern toward me, I could read her name as distinctly as though I had been directly under the stern—. As soon as it was fairly light, we saw their boats coming out of a creek or cove, on the Long Island side of the water, filled with British soldiers. When they came to the edge of the tide, they formed their boats in line. They continued to augment these forces from the Island until they appeared like a large clover field in full bloom.... We lay very quiet in our ditch, waiting their motions, till the sun was an hour or two high. We heard a cannonade at the city, but our attention was drawn to our own guests. But they being a little dilatory in their operations, I stepped into an old warehouse which, stood close by me, with the door open, inviting me in, and sat down upon a stool; the floor was strewed with papers which had in some former period been used in the concerns of the house, but were then lying in woful confusion. I was very demurely perusing these papers, when, all of a sudden, there came such a peal of thunder from the British shipping, that I thought my head would go with the sound. I made a frog's leap for the ditch, and lay as still as I possibly could, and began to consider which part of my carcass was to go first. The British played their parts well; indeed, they had nothing to hinder them. We kept the lines till they were almost levelled upon us, when our officers seeing we could make no resistance, and no orders coming from any superior officer, and that we must soon be entirely exposed to the rake of the guns, gave the order to leave the lines. In retreating we had to cross a level clear spot of ground, forty or fifty rods wide, exposed to the whole of the enemy's fire; and they gave it to us in prime order; the grape shot and langrage flew merrily, which served to quicken our motions.... We had not gone far (in the highway) before we saw a party of men, apparently hurrying on in the same direction with ourselves; we endeavored hard to overtake them, but on approaching them we found that they were not of our way of thinking; they were Hessians. We immediately altered our course and took the main road leading to King's bridge. We had not long been on this road before we saw another party, just ahead of us, whom we knew to be Americans; just as we overtook these, they were fired upon by a party of British from a corn-field, and all was immediately in confusion again. I believe the enemies' party was small; but our people were all militia, and the demons of fear and disorder seemed to take full possession of all and everything on that day. When I came to the spot where the militia were fired upon the ground was literally covered with arms, knapsacks, staves, coats, hats and old oil flasks, perhaps some of those from the Madeira town cellar in New York.... Several of the regiment were missing among whom was our major; he was a fine man, and his loss was much regretted by the men of the regiment. We lay that night upon the ground which the regiment occupied when I came up with it. The next day in the forenoon, the enemy, as we expected, followed us "hard up" and were advancing through a level field; our rangers and some few other light troops under the command of Col. Knowlton, of Connecticut and Major Leitch of (I, believe) Virginia, were in waiting for them. Seeing them advancing, the rangers, &c., concealed themselves in a deep gully overgrown with bushes; upon the western verge of this defile was a post and rail fence, and over that the forementioned field. Our people let the enemy advance until they arrived at the fence when they arose and poured in a volley upon them. How many of the enemy were killed & wounded could not be known, as the British were always as careful as Indians to conceal their losses. There were, doubtless, some killed, as I myself counted nineteen ball-holes through a single rail of the fence at which the enemy were standing when the action began. The British gave back and our people advanced into the field. The action soon became warm. Col. Knowlton a brave man and commander of the detachment, fell in the early part of the engagement. It was said, by them who saw it, that he lost his valuable life by unadvisedly exposing himself singly to the enemy. In my boyhood I had been acquainted with him; he was a brave man and an excellent citizen. Major Leitch fell soon after, and the troops who were then engaged, were left with no higher commanders than their captains, but they still kept the enemy retreating. Our regiment was now ordered into the field, and we arrived on the ground just as the retreating army were entering a thick wood, a circumstance as disagreeable to them as it was agreeable to us, at that period of the war. We soon came to action with them. The troops engaged being reinforced by our regiment kept them still retreating, until they found shelter under the cannon of some of their shipping, lying in the North River. We remained on the battle ground till nearly sunset, expecting the enemy to attack us again, but they showed no such inclination that day. The men were very much fatigued and faint, having had nothing to eat for forty-eight hours—at least the greater part were in this condition & I among the rest.... We had eight or ten of our regt killed in the action & a number wounded, but none of them belonging to our company. Our Lt. Col. was hit by a grape-shot, which went through his coat, westcoat and shirt, to the skin on his shoulder, without doing any other damage than cutting up his epaulette.
[A Narrative of Some of the Adventures, Dangers and Sufferings of a Revolutionary Soldier, etc.
Hallowell, Me. 1830.]