Woodhull was the hero of Long Island. He rendered important service in the formation of the state government, and was always a leader who secured and retained the respect and confidence of his constituents.
The occupation of Long Island by the British did not accomplish the results anticipated. The victory gained was barren. The authorities at home did not see in it anything to commend. In the light of present knowledge it was passing strange that Generals Howe and Clinton and Admiral Howe should have committed so fatal a blunder as to attempt the subjugation of the city of New York by a passage of the army across Long Island. The situation of Manhattan Island, extending into the bay, with a wide expanse of water on each side, presented an inviting field for an attack upon the city. Admiral Howe, with his large and well-equipped fleet, could have readily besieged New York, and forced Washington with his little band of patriots to evacuate the place. As it was he weakened his force, and enabled Washington to concentrate his army. Long Island being isolated from the main land was of but little consequence to either side. Had Howe with his fleet besieged the city, and landed the military forces, their success would have been complete, as the Americans were not prepared to resist the invasion. Such a policy would have resulted disastrously to the patriotic cause. As we have already stated, the battle of Brooklyn was never looked upon by British authorities as at all creditable. Whatever glory gathers round the engagement centres in the exhibition of military skill displayed by Washington in the management of the masterly retreat of the American army from Long Island, and its safe arrival in the city of New York.
Yet Washington was greatly distressed and disheartened by the defeat at Brooklyn. In referring to the battle in one of his letters written shortly after the disaster, he expressed his feelings in unmistakable terms. He says: "The check our detachment sustained on the 27th has disappointed too great a proportion of our troops and filled their minds with apprehension and despair. The militia, instead of calling forth their utmost efforts to a brave and manly opposition, in order to repair our losses, are dismayed, intractable, and impatient to return. Great numbers of them have gone off! in some instances by whole regiments, by half ones, and by companies, at a time." Washington was well-nigh discouraged by the state of affairs. He had enlisted with the purest motives, and ever manifested a spirit of self-sacrifice. He regretted that the same spirit did not abide with those who had with him enlisted in the service.
Howe, having full possession of the American fortifications on Long Island, determined to use the fleet under command of his brother, Admiral Howe. The vessels were brought within gunshot of the city. The Rose, carrying forty guns, passed through Buttermilk Channel and anchored in Turtle Bay, in the neighborhood of Forty-second Street and East River, to aid the other vessels then in the Sound by a concert of action against the city.
Washington, noticing the movements of the ships of war, and foreseeing that the condition of his army would not permit a defense, resolved to leave the city. Before doing so he summoned a council of his officers, who coincided with him in his views of the situation. This was on the 12th of September. An order was issued at once for the removal of the military stores across the Harlem River, and a force was stationed at Kingsbridge.
General Putnam was left in command of the city with about 4000 men. The main body under Washington was stationed at Harlem Heights. Washington was now surrounded with difficulties which required great ability to overcome. The enemy had the men and means to move on his works, and against their attack he could offer but feeble resistance. It was a dark and doleful hour in our history. In order to make no mistake it became necessary to adopt a decisive policy, and to arrange plans whereby the advance movements of the enemy might be circumvented. He considered it of the utmost importance to ascertain the intentions of Howe and Clinton. A council of war was called, and it was resolved to send a man who could be trusted into the enemy's ranks to gain the desired information.
In this emergency Nathan Hale, a young and brilliant officer, volunteered his services. Procuring the necessary disguise, Hale started on the mission fraught with so much danger. Passing over to Long Island, he entered unnoticed and unobserved the enemy's line, succeeded in making drawings of their works, and gained full and complete information as to all their intended movements.
As he was returning, he was recognized as belonging to the rebel army, and was arrested, and conveyed to the Beekman house, on the corner of Fifty-first Street and First Avenue, where General Howe had his headquarters. He was at once tried, convicted as a spy, and sentenced to be hung on the following day at daybreak. It was a mercy to him that his execution was fixed so speedily, as in the mean time he was placed in the keeping of that heartless scoundrel, Cunningham, whose after deeds as provost marshal of New York have rendered his name forever infamous. Hale was kept in confinement during the night by the marshal, who refused to give him a light and writing materials to enable him to send a last message of love to his aged parents and friends. A kindly disposed lieutenant afterwards furnished him with pen and paper. Cunningham, however, in the morning manifested the natural atrocity of his disposition by rudely tearing into pieces before his eyes the letters which he had written, and at the same time declaring "that the rebels should never know that they had a man in their army who could die with so much firmness."
On the morning of September 22, 1776, Cunningham ordered the execution to proceed, and at the same time required Hale to make a dying confession. In the nobility of his liberty-loving nature, Hale said: "I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country." These brave words were his last. He was suspended on an apple-tree, and his remains were committed to the grave without any ceremony. He did not perish; his name will live as that of one of the heroes of the Revolution. In the American army he was universally beloved, and his untimely end filled the hearts of his friends with deep-seated hatred to their foes, and a renewed determination to be avenged.
In this connection the following may not be uninteresting. It is an extract from a letter from New York, dated September 1, 1776:[48]