At the entrance of Charleston harbour, on the right hand, is Sullivan’s Island, about six miles below the city. To the east of Sullivan’s Island is Long Island, from which it is separated by a creek called the Breach. On the south-west point of Sullivan’s Island was a strong fort, though composed only of earth and palmetto wood. As palmetto wood is soft and does not splinter, it was especially suited for the purpose. The squadron, under Sir Peter Parker, consisted of the Bristol, Experiment, Active, Solebay, Actaeon, Syren, and other smaller craft. While Sir Henry Clinton landed his troops on Long Island Sir Peter undertook to attack the fort, which was commanded by Colonel Moultrie. General Lee, however, with a large force, had by rapid marches advanced to the protection of the city. The Thunder-bomb began the action, during which the Sphinx, Syren, and Actaeon ran foul of each other and got on shore. The two first hauled off, but the Actaeon remained, and was ultimately abandoned and burned. The fire was most tremendous and deadly on both sides, but the British suffered the most; indeed, seldom have ships been exposed to a more terrific battering, or stood it with greater heroism and perseverance. On board that small squadron there were no less than sixty-four men killed and one hundred and forty-three wounded. At one time on the deck of the Bristol Sir Peter himself, amidst the deadly shower, alone stood unhurt. Captain Morris, of the Actaeon, was killed, as was Lord Campbell, late governor of the province, serving as a volunteer on board. Captain Scott, of the Experiment, lost his arm. The Bristol was completely unrigged; her guns were dismounted and her top-masts shot away. In vain Sir Peter looked for the assistance he expected from Sir Henry. Each time the troops attempted to cross from Long Island they were foiled by the bold front presented by a body of Americans with artillery. At length, the carnage growing more appalling than ever, and their hope of success diminishing, Sir Peter ordered them to make their way out of action. This event took place on the 28th of June. Other unsuccessful attempts were made to capture the fort, and in a few days the troops were re-embarked and the squadron came northward. I did not hear that the Phoenix, Rose, and Tryall did much execution up the Hudson. They had some encounters with the enemy’s row-boats and exchanged shots occasionally with the troops on shore; while they had constantly to be on the watch at night to prevent the attack of fire-ships; but their chief object was evidently to survey the river, to enable the fleet to proceed upwards if necessary. As the river is very broad, in many places expanding into almost lakes, they were able to anchor at all times out of gun shot distance. Having accomplished their object, they left the river on the 18th, exchanging a brisk fire with the forts in their passage.
I must now give a sketch of one of the most sanguinary encounters it has ever been my lot to witness, and which, had we arrived a day later, I should have missed seeing.
People in England were apt to fancy that the rebels were officered by a set of planters or merchants, and to treat them accordingly with superciliousness and contempt, instead of which, besides General Washington, there were many who had been engaged from their youth upward in border warfare, not only with Indians, but with the disciplined troops of France. Many had aided in the conquest of Canada, while others had served in the armies of England and other European powers, and had experience equal to those to whom they were opposed, wanting only titular or official rank; while all were better acquainted with the country and were animated with the warmest patriotism and belief in the justice of their cause. Their great deficiency was in the discipline of their men, who, though not wanting in bravery, had but little discretion and no experience in general, while the subaltern officers were destitute also of the same necessary qualities. Some of their regiments, however, had been brought into very fair discipline, and were well officered. The great fault of the British, I must remark, as I shall have frequently to do, was over-confidence and a contempt of the foe with whom they were contending. On the present occasion, however, no imputation of that sort could be cast on the British commanders. The main body of the Americans were entrenched in a strong position at Brooklyn, at the end of Long Island, directly opposite New York, from which it is divided by a strait about three quarters of a mile in width, called East River. Directly down the centre of the island is a ridge of rocky hills, covered with wood. Across these hills were three roads leading from the side of the island, opposite Staten Island, where our troops would naturally land. These three passes were held by different bodies of American troops. The whole American force was under the command of General Putnam, though it was said Washington himself frequently crossed from New York to aid in the defence of the position. Previous to the 27th a large portion of our army, including two brigades of Hessians, had crossed over from Staten Island, and, landing between Gravesend and Flatland, some of them encamped in that neighbourhood, while the Hessians pushed on to a place called Flatbush. On the evening of the 26th the whole army advanced, Sir Henry Clinton leading the light infantry, Lord Percy following with the grenadiers, flying artillery, and light dragoons, while Lord Cornwallis, accompanied by Lord Howe, brought up the rear-guard with the heavy ordnance. About two hours before daybreak they arrived at the neighbourhood of the hills, when they discovered that the pass to the east, called the Bedford Pass, was unoccupied. He at once led his division through it, and thus turned the left of the American position. In the meantime General Grant had advanced with another division from Gravesend past Gowanus Cowe, on the road by the Narrows towards the right of the American position. As soon as it was daylight he formed his troops directly opposite the enemy, where he waited to hear that Sir Henry had commenced the attack. General De Heister, who commanded the Hessians, had kept up a hot fire with his artillery on a redoubt in front of the lines from his camp at Flatbush, which he ultimately stormed, while Lord Cornwallis, advancing on the centre, was bravely opposed by Lord Stirling who had taken up arms on the side of the Americans. One of our ships was all the time discharging a heavy cannonade on the battery at Red Hook, near which we also were brought up to join in the action had it been necessary, and whence from the maintop, where I with others had gone, I had a tolerably perfect view of many of the proceedings. Hemmed in on all sides, as I have described, and pressed on by overwhelming numbers of disciplined troops, the Americans, after a desperate and brave resistance, at length gave way, and then commenced a most indiscriminate and dreadful slaughter. They were cut down and trampled on by the cavalry, bayoneted by the savage Hessians, and torn in pieces by the artillery. Some rallied for a time and defended themselves with their rifles, behind rocks and trees, and at length, by a desperate effort, cut their way through their foes to the lines. Lord Stirling, who had fought bravely throughout the day, surrendered himself as a prisoner to General De Heister, two hundred and fifty of the brave fellows he had led lying dead around him. General Sullivan and several other officers were taken, endeavouring to cover the retreat of their troops. The enemy in all lost in killed alone full fifteen hundred men besides others who were smothered in the mud as they were endeavouring to escape from the Hessian bayonets. These, with wounded and prisoners, made up their loss to nearly three thousand men out of scarcely more than five thousand engaged.
It is a dreadful sight to witness slaughter such as this was, when one’s blood is cold and one sits a mere spectator of the fight. I felt all the time more inclined to side with the poor Americans as they were flying from our victorious troops than to wish for the success of the latter. I heard a deep groan near me as I was seated in the maintop. I looked round. It was Frank Mercer. He was as pale as death. I thought he would have fallen on deck. At times he would shade his eyes with his hand, and then again he would gaze earnestly at the dreadful sight as if unable to resist its horrid fascination. Of course I have not described half the events of the day.
The Americans retreated within their lines and the British troops advanced close up to them. It was supposed that General Howe would give the order to storm the works. Had he done so at once they would certainly have been taken, and though with some considerable loss of life, it might have prevented much subsequent greater loss. However, it appeared that he had resolved to attack the lines by regular approaches. General Washington, seeing the inevitable result, made a masterly retreat with the whole garrison across the sound to New York during the night, favoured by calm weather and a thick fog. Notice was brought in the morning to General Howe of what had occurred, and when one of his aides-de-camp, who was sent to ascertain the fact, climbed over the crest of the works he found them of a truth deserted. The next day no less than thirteen hundred Americans were buried in one large pit, while many more had been lost in the creek and swamp near the lines.
It was the general opinion, both in the camp and fleet, that had the army at once been pushed forward, a speedy and happy conclusion would have been brought to the war. There were all sorts of reports current. Among them it was said that the city was about to be abandoned and burnt to the ground, to prevent our troops occupying it for the winter. This proceeding, however, the inhabitants strongly opposed, as all their property would thereby have been destroyed. I must not delay the progress of my narrative to mention the various reports of all sorts which were flying about.
On the 30th we again put to sea, Captain Hudson having under his command the Niger and Greyhound frigates. We cruised off Sandy Hook without meeting with any occurrence worth noting till the 3rd of September, when we returned to Sandy Hook. Here we received orders once more to proceed to sea, to look out for a fleet of transports, with a division of Hessians on board, daily expected from Europe, under convoy of the Repulse. We fortunately fell in with them on the following morning, and returned in their company to Gravesend Day.
On the 8th we moved up to Staten Island, and we began to hope that we at length might be engaged in some more active service than we had hitherto seen.
“Have you heard the news?” exclaimed Delisle two days afterwards, as I came on deck for the first time that morning.
I inquired what it was.