The enemy made no advance from Long Island until more than two weeks after the battle. Howe's preparations were delayed because dependent upon the co-operation of the fleet. On the night of the 3d of September, the frigate Rose, of thirty-two guns, sailed up the East River convoying thirty boats, and running through the fire of our guns at the Grand Battery, the ship-yards, and Corlears Hook, anchored close into Wallabout Bay, where on the 5th our artillerists "briskly cannonaded" her. After dark on the 12th, thirty-six additional boats passed our batteries to Bushwick Creek, and the night after forty more followed. Then towards sunset on the 14th, the frigates Roebuck, Phœnix, Orpheus, and Carysfort, with six transports, joined the Rose without receiving material injury from the heavy fire poured upon them by our gunners.
On the following morning, the 15th, the British moved against Manhattan Island, and in the afternoon New York City fell into their possession. What occurred beforehand during the day is known as the "Kip's Bay affair."[179]
Kip's Bay was the large cove which then set in from the East River at about the foot of Thirty-fourth Street. It took its name from the old Kip family, who owned the adjacent estate. From this point breastworks had been thrown up along the river's bank, wherever a landing could be made, down as far as Corlears Hook or Grand Street. Five brigades had been distributed at this front to watch the enemy. Silliman's was in the city; at Corlears Hook was Parsons' brigade, to which Prescott's Massachusetts men had now been added; beyond, in the vicinity of Fifteenth Street, on the Stuyvesant estate, Scott's New York brigade took post; above him, at about Twenty-third Street, was Wadsworth's command, consisting of Sage's, Selden's, and Gay's Connecticut levies; and further along near Kip's Bay was Colonel Douglas, with his brigade of three Connecticut militia regiments under Cooke, Pettibone, and Talcott, and his own battalion of levies.[180] Up the river a chain of sentinels communicated with the troops at Horn's Hook, and every half hour they passed the watchword to each other, "All is well."
Very early on the morning of the 15th, which was Sunday, the five British frigates which had anchored under the Long Island shore sailed up and took position close within musket-shot of our lines at Kip's Bay, somewhat to the left of Douglas. This officer immediately moved his brigade abreast of them. The ships were so near, says Martin, one of Douglas' soldiers, that he could distinctly read the name of the Phœnix, which was lying "a little quartering." Meanwhile, on the opposite shore, in Newtown Creek, the British embarked their light infantry and reserves, and Donop's grenadiers and yagers, all under Clinton and Cornwallis, in eighty-four boats, and drew up in regular order on the water ready to cross to the New York side.[181] The soldier just quoted remembered that they looked like "a large clover field in full bloom." All along the line our soldiers were watching these movements with anxious curiosity—that night they would have been withdrawn from the position—when suddenly between ten and eleven o'clock the five frigates opened a sweeping fire from their seventy or eighty guns upon the breastworks where Douglas and his brigade were drawn up. It came like "a peal of thunder," and the militiamen could do nothing but keep well under cover. The enemy fired at them at their pleasure, from "their tops and everywhere," until our men soon found it impossible to stay in that position. "We kept the lines," says Martin, "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." At the same time the flotilla crossed the river, and getting under cover of the smoke of the ships' guns, struck off to the left of Douglas, where the troops effected a landing without difficulty. Howe says: "The fire of the shipping being so well directed and so incessant, the enemy could not remain in their works, and the descent was made without the least opposition." The ordeal the militia were subjected to was something which in similar circumstances veteran troops have been unable to withstand.[182] Retreating from the lines, Douglas's men scattered to the rear towards the Post Road, and the enemy who landed and formed rapidly were soon after them. Douglas himself, who was an excellent officer, was the last to leave, and all but escaped capture.[183] There was no collecting the brigade, however, in any new position in the field, for the thought of being intercepted had created a panic among the militia, and they fled in confusion.
When the cannonade at Kip's Bay began, Washington was four miles distant, at Harlem. At the first sound of the guns he mounted his horse and rode with all possible despatch to the scene. At about the same time, General Parsons, probably by Putnam's order, directed Prescott's, Tyler's, and the remnant of Huntington's regiment, not over eighty strong, to march immediately to the assistance of the troops where the enemy were landing.[184] Fellows' brigade was also ordered along for the same purpose.
At about the corner of the present Thirty-sixth Street and Fourth Avenue stood at that time the residence of Robert Murray, the Quaker merchant, on what was known as "Inclenberg" heights, now Murray Hill. His grounds extended to the Post Road, which there ran along the line of Lexington Avenue. Just above him a cross-road connected the Post and Bloomingdale roads, which is represented to-day by the line of Forty-second and Forty-third streets. On the south side of the cross-road where it intersected the Post Road was a large corn-field adjoining or belonging to Murray's estate. When Washington reached this vicinity he found the militia retreating in disorder along both the cross and the Post roads, and Fellows' brigade just coming on to the field. The general, with Putnam and others, was then on the rising ground in the vicinity of the present Forty-second Street reservoir. In a very short time Parsons and his regiments arrived by the Bloomingdale Road, and Washington in person directed them to form along the line of the Post Road in front of the enemy, who were rapidly advancing from Kip's Bay. "Take the walls!" "Take the corn-field!" he shouted; and Parsons' men quickly ran to the walls and the field, but in a confused and disordered manner. Their general did his best to get them into line on the ground, but found it impossible, they were so dispersed, and, moreover, they were now beginning to retreat. The panic which had seized the Connecticut militia was communicated to Fellows' Massachusetts men, who were also militia; and now it was to sweep up Parsons' Continentals, including Prescott's men of Bunker Hill. The latter brigade had been brought on to the ground in bad shape through the fugitive militiamen, and when the British light infantry appeared they broke and retreated with the rest.
To Washington all this confusion and rout seemed wholly unnecessary and unreasonable, and dashing in among the flying crowds he endeavored to convince them that there was no danger, and used his utmost exertions to bring them into some order. He was roused to more than indignation at the sight, and in his letter to Congress on the following day denounced the conduct of these troops as "disgraceful and dastardly."[185] Putnam, Parsons, Fellows, and others were equally active in attempting to stop the flight, but it was to no purpose. "The very demons of fear and disorder," says Martin, "seemed to take full possession of all and everything on that day." Nothing remained but to continue the retreat by the Bloomingdale Road to Harlem Heights.
During these scenes, Wadsworth's and Scott's brigades, which were below Douglas on the river lines, saw that their only safety lay, also, in immediate retreat, and falling back, they joined the other brigades above, though not without suffering some loss. The parties now in the greatest danger were Silliman's brigade and Knox with detachments of the artillery, who were still in the city three miles below. When Putnam, to whose division they belonged, found that no stand could be made at Kip's Bay or Murray's Hill, he galloped down through Wadsworth's and Scott's retreating troops, to extricate Silliman and the others.[186] Not a moment's time was to be lost, for should the British stretch out their troops west of the Bloomingdale Road to the North River, escape would be impossible. Silliman, meanwhile, had taken post with Knox in and to the right of Bayard's Hill Fort, from the top of which they could see the enemy occupying the island above them. At this juncture, Major Aaron Burr, Putnam's aid, rode up to the fort with orders to retreat. He was told that retreat was out of the question. Knox said that he should defend the fort to the last. But Burr, who knew the ground thoroughly, declared that he could pilot them safely to the upper end of the island, and Silliman's men set out for the attempt.[187] Putnam also had called in other guards, and the entire force then took to the woods above Greenwich, on the west side, and keeping under cover wherever it was possible, made their way along without opposition. But it proved to be a most trying and hazardous march. The day was "insupportably hot;" more than one soldier died at the spring or brook where he drank; any moment the enemy, who at some points were not half a mile away, might be upon them. Officers rode in advance and to the right to reconnoitre and see that the way was clear. Putnam, Silliman, Burr, and others were conspicuous in their exertions. Silliman was "sometimes in the front, sometimes in the centre, and sometimes in the rear." The men extended along in the woods for two miles, and the greatest precautions were necessary to keep them out of sight of the main road.[188] Putnam encouraged them continually by flying on his horse, covered with foam, wherever his presence was most necessary. "Without his extraordinary exertions," says Colonel Humphreys, who frequently saw Putnam that day, "the guards must have been inevitably lost, and it is probable the entire corps would have been cut in pieces." Much, too, of the success of the march was due to Burr's skill and knowledge. Near Bloomingdale, the command fell in with a party of the British, when Silliman formed three hundred of his men and beat them off. After making a winding march of at least "twelve miles," these greatly distressed troops finally reached Harlem Heights after dark, to the surprise and relief of the other brigades, who had given them up for lost.