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.

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.

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]

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