Chapter IV: The Battle of Long Island (3)

Last of all, where were Parsons and Atlee? Had they been holding that hill in Greenwood all the morning, with a tenacity worthy of veterans, only to be swallowed up in the defeat and confusion of the day? Such was to be their fate. For some unexplained reason, when Stirling fell back, he failed to inform Parsons of his move. Both Parsons and Atlee state that no word reached them to join the general, and that it was greatly to their surprise when they found the line, whose flank they had been protecting, no longer there. Whatever the mistake, there was no time to lose, for the enemy were now pressing on this little force, and it must retreat as Stirling had done. But it soon found itself more effectually hemmed in than any party in the field. Cornwallis, after driving the Marylanders back, had complete command of the road, and as Parsons and Atlee came along they found it impossible even to reach the marsh. Some escaped, but the greater part turned into the woods and were all taken. Atlee, with twenty-three men, avoided capture until five o'clock in the afternoon; while Parsons, more fortunate, hid in a swamp, having escaped from the action and pursuit "as by a miracle," and with seven men made his way into our lines at daylight next morning.[156]

[Footnote 156: "Colonel Huntington's and the Maryland regiment suffered the most. General Parsons says that some of our men fought through the enemy not less than 7 or 8 times that day. He lay out himself part of the night concealed in a swamp, from whence he made his escape with 7 men to our lines about break of day the next morning."--_Letter from an Officer, Conn. Journal_, September 18th, 1776. "I came in with 7 men yesterday morning, much fatigued."--_General Parsons_, August 29th, 1776.]

* * * * *

The battle was over. It had continued at intervals, at one point or another, over a range of five miles, from three o'clock in the morning until nearly two in the afternoon. Less than five thousand Americans at the passes, including Stirling's command and all others who had marched out during the morning, had been swept up or swept back by nearly twenty thousand British and Hessians. For our troops it was a total defeat. They had been forced to abandon the outer line of defence--the very line Washington wished should be held "at all hazards"--and had been driven into the fortified camp on the Brooklyn peninsula. This result would have inevitably come, sooner or later, but no one could have entertained the possibility of its coming in this sudden and disastrous shape.

* * * * *

Looking back over the day's work, the cause of the defeat is apparent at once: _We had been completely outflanked and surprised on the Jamaica Road._ Where the responsibility for the surprise should rest is another question. Evidently, if that patrol of officers had not been captured, but, upon discovering the approach of the enemy, had carried the word directly to Miles' camp and to headquarters, the enemy would not have gained the rear of our outposts without warning. Miles and Wyllys could have interposed themselves across their path, and held the ground long enough at least to put our troops at the other points on their guard. The surprise of this patrol, therefore, can alone explain the defeat. But as the officers appear to have been sent out as an additional precaution, the responsibility must be shared by Miles and his regiment, who were the permanent guard on the left. Brodhead, who wrote eight days after the event, distinctly asserts that there were no troops beyond them, and that, for want of videttes, that flank was left for them to watch. Parsons, as officer of the day, reports that Miles was expected to patrol across the Jamaica Road. But to charge the colonel personally with a fatal mistake or neglect is not warranted by the facts. His own patrols and pickets may have failed him. The simple fact appears that this regiment was put upon our left, that our left was turned, and the battle lost in consequence. As to the generalship of the day, if the responsibility falls on any one, it falls first on Sullivan, who sent out the mounted patrol in the first instance, and to whom it belonged to follow up the precautions in that direction. Putnam was in chief command, but nothing can be inferred from contemporary records to fasten neglect or blunder upon him any more than upon Washington, who, when he left the Brooklyn lines on the evening of the 26th, must have known precisely what disposition had been made for the night at the hills and passes. And upon Washington certainly the responsibility cannot rest.[157]

[Footnote 157: RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE DEFEAT.--According to some of our more recent versions of this battle, the disaster is to be referred to the wilful disobedience, criminal inattention, and total incapacity of General Putnam. Several writers make the charge so pointedly and upon such an array of fact, that the reader is left to wonder how all this should have escaped the notice of the commander-in-chief at the time, and why Putnam was not immediately court-martialled and dismissed the service, instead of being continued, as he was, in important commands. The charge is the more serious as it is advanced by so respectable an authority as Mr. Bancroft. Mr. Field, Mr. Dawson, and Dr. Stiles, following the latter, incline strongly in the same direction.

Mr. Bancroft first assails Putnam for sending Stirling out to the right when word came in that the enemy were advancing and our pickets flying. This is criticised as "a rash order," because it sent Stirling to a position which was "dangerous in the extreme," with the Gowanus marsh in his rear. But as to this, it only needs to be said that Putnam's written instructions from Washington were imperative to prevent the enemy from passing the hills and approaching the works. It would have been a clear disregard of Washington's intention had Putnam not sent Stirling out precisely as he did. The enemy were coming up from the Narrows and must be checked "at all hazards." Furthermore, the position Stirling took up at about Nineteenth Street was actually safer than any other on the outpost line. His right could not be turned, for it rested on the bay, and he could see every movement of the fleet. His left was well covered by Parsons, and no one could have imagined his rear in danger with the other outposts guarding it for more than three miles. As a matter of fact, Stirling was nearer the lines than either Miles or Wyllys.

Again, it is charged that when Putnam and Sullivan visited the extreme left on the 26th "the movements of the enemy plainly disclosed that it was their intention to get into the rear of the Americans by the Jamaica Road," yet nothing was done. The foundation of this is probably a statement of Brodhead's and another by Miles to the effect that these generals might have themselves observed that the enemy were preparing for the Jamaica move. But if the intentions of the latter were so obvious at that time, it is proper to ask why it was not equally obvious on the next morning that they were actually carrying out their intentions, and why Miles and Brodhead did not so report at an early hour. These officers were rightly impressed with the conviction that the enemy would come by way of Jamaica, but it is certain that the enemy made no observable move in that direction from Flatlands, where they had been for three days, until nine o'clock that night. So says Howe. It was clearly in the plan of the British to give our outposts no ground for suspecting a flanking manoeuvre. Their movements were far from being "plainly disclosed." The quotation given by Mr. Bancroft in this connection, namely, that "Washington's order to secure the Jamaica Road was not obeyed," unfortunately appears as original in a "Review of the War" published in 1779 and written by some irresponsible individual in England, who could neither have known what Washington's orders were, nor whether any attempt was made to carry them out.

A further charge is this: "Early in the morning, Putnam was informed that infantry and cavalry were advancing on the Jamaica Road. He gave Washington no notice of the danger; he sent Stirling no order to retreat." This is doubtless on the authority of a letter in _Force_, 5th Series, vol. i., p. 1195. But how early was Putnam informed? The writer of the letter who brought the word was probably one of Miles' or Brodhead's men, for he tells us that his regiment was dressed in hunting-shirts, and he makes the very important statement that on his way back to his post he met the enemy! The information came too late, for the British were now marching down towards the lines. Sullivan had gone to the Flatbush Pass, where he could understand the situation better than Putnam, and he was the proper officer to give directions to the outposts at that moment.

The charges made by Mr. Dawson have still less foundation. General Putnam is stated never to have reconnoitred the enemy's position. Brodhead, however, states distinctly that he did. "It is also a well-established fact," says this writer, "that no general officer was outside the lines at Brooklyn on the night of the 26th." What is the authority for this? Nixon, Stirling, and Parsons had been successively officers of the day, and presumably did their duty. Parsons, on the morning of the 27th, was on the lower road trying to rally the pickets before Stirling appeared with reinforcements. "The mounted patrols which General Sullivan had established, as well as the guards at some of the passes established by General Greene, were withdrawn." The fact that all the passes were well guarded and a special patrol sent out, is a complete answer to this assertion, so far as the night of the 26th is concerned. In this light the general conclusion arrived at by Mr. Dawson, that "General Putnam paid no attention to the orders of General Washington," cannot be sustained.

With regard to General Sullivan, it is but just to give his own explanation. A year after the battle, he wrote: "I know it has been generally reported that I commanded on Long Island when the actions happened there. This is by no means true; _General Putnam_ had taken the command from me four days before the action. Lord Stirling commanded the main body without the lines; I was to have command under General Putnam within the lines. I was very uneasy about a road through which I had often foretold the enemy would come, but could not persuade others to be of my opinion. I went to the Hill near Flatbush to reconnoitre the enemy, and, with a piquet of four hundred men, was surrounded by the enemy, who had advanced by the very road I had foretold, and which I had paid horsemen fifty dollars for patrolling by night, while I had the command, as I had no foot for the purpose, for which I was never reimbursed, as it was supposed unnecessary." In another letter he adds: "I was so persuaded of the enemy's coming the [Jamaica] route, that I went to examine, and was surrounded by the British army, and after a long and severe engagement was made prisoner." These letters were written when Sullivan was restless under charges brought against him in connection with the defeat at Brandywine--charges which were properly dropped, however--and are not conclusive as to the Long Island affair. His statements are no doubt strictly true, but they in no way affect the main point, namely, did we or did we not have a patrol out on the Jamaica Road _on the night of the 26th_? We have seen that there was such a patrol, and probably the best that had yet been sent out, and sent out, according to Lieutenant Van Wagenen, by General Sullivan himself.

There are but few references to the question of responsibility in contemporary letters and documents. Gordon blames Sullivan as being over-confident. Miles and Brodhead leave us to infer that this general had much to do with the plan of action, and must be held at least in part responsible. Sullivan, on the other hand, according to Brodhead, blamed Miles for the defeat, as Parsons did. When these officers wrote, they wrote to defend their own conduct, and their testimony is necessarily incomplete so far as others are concerned.

In brief, the case seems to be this: On the night of the 26th we had all the roads guarded. On the morning of the 27th Putnam promptly reinforced the guards on the lower road when the enemy were announced. The arrangements were such that if an attack was made at any of the other points he and Sullivan were to have word of it in ample time. No word came in time from the left, for the reason that those who were to bring it were captured, or surprised, or failed of their duty. Hence the disaster. The dispositions on Long Island were quite as complete as those at Brandywine more than a year later, where we suffered nearly a similar surprise and as heavy a loss. Suppose the very small patrols sent out by Washington and Sullivan to gain information before that battle had been captured, as at Long Island--we should have sustained a greater disaster than at Long Island.

Under this state of facts, to charge Putnam with the defeat of the 27th, in the terms which some writers have employed, is both unjust and unhistorical. That misfortune is not to be clouded with the additional reflection, that it was due to the gross neglect and general incapacity of the officer in command. No facts or inferences justify the charge. No one hinted it at the time; nor did Washington in the least withdraw his confidence from Putnam during the remainder of the campaign.]

What has been said of other defeats may be said with equal truth of this one: if it was a disaster, it was not a disgrace. Even the surprise upon the left discloses no criminal misconduct. In the actual fighting of the day our soldiers stood their ground. Necessarily we suffered heavily in prisoners, but otherwise our loss was inconsiderable. All the light that we have to-day goes to establish the very important fact, originally credited and reported by Washington himself, but which hardly a single historical writer has since ventured to repeat, that at the battle of Long Island _the British and Hessians suffered a loss in killed and wounded equal to that inflicted upon the Americans_.[158] Howe reported his total casualties at three hundred and sixty-seven officers and soldiers. On the side of the Americans the total loss did not exceed one thousand. About eight hundred, including ninety-one officers, were taken prisoners; not more than six officers and about fifty privates were killed; and less than sixteen officers and one hundred and fifty privates wounded. No frightful slaughter of our troops, as sometimes pictured, occurred during the action. It was a field where the American soldier, in every fair encounter, proved himself worthy of the cause he was fighting for.

[Footnote 158: See note at the close of the chapter.]

* * * * *

To those who fell in the engagement we may render here a grateful tribute, though something more than this is due. Their services and sacrifices are deserving of remembrance rather by a lasting memorial; for men died here who showed not less of individual worth and heroism than others who are immortalized on victorious fields. Thus at the Flatbush Road we find Philip Johnston, colonel of the Jersey battalion, which formed part of the guard there during the night. He was the son of the worthy Judge Samuel Johnston, of the town of Sidney in Hunterdon County. In his youth he had been a student at Princeton, but, dropping his books, he took up the sword for the colonies in the French war, from which he returned with honor. The troubles with Great Britain found him ready again to fight in defence of common rights and his native soil. Parting from his wife and child with touching affection, he took the field with his regiment, and when attacked on Long Island he showed all the qualities which mark the true soldier. A gentleman of high principle, an officer of fine presence, one of the strongest men in the army, he fought near Sullivan with the greatest bravery until he fell mortally wounded. That August 27th was his thirty-fifth birthday.

Equally glorious and regretted was the death of Lieutenant-Colonel Caleb Parry, of Atlee's regiment, which occurred, as already noticed, at an earlier hour and in another part of the field. He too was in the prime of life, and eager to render the country some good service. A representative colonist, descended from an ancient and honorable family long seated in North Wales, and a man of polish and culture, he stood ready for any sacrifice demanded of him at this crisis. Parry came from Chester County, Pennsylvania, leaving a wife and five children, and crossed with his regiment to Long Island four days before the battle. Under what circumstances he fell has been told. As they crossed the line of Greenwood Cemetery to take position at or near "Battle Hill," the little command was greeted with a sudden though harmless volley from the enemy. The men shrunk and fell back, but Atlee rallied and Parry cheered them on, and they gained the hill. It was here, while engaged in an officer's highest duty, turning men to the enemy by his own example, that the fatal bullet pierced his brow. When some future monument rises from Greenwood to commemorate the struggle of this day, it can bear no more fitting line among its inscriptions than this tribute of Brodhead's, "Parry died like a hero."

Captain Edward Veazey, of the Marylanders, belonged to the family of Veazeys who settled in Cecil County, on the eastern shore of that State, and who traced their lineage back to the Norman De Veazies of the eleventh century. The captain was fifty-five years of age, took up the colonial cause at the start, raised the Seventh Independent Company of Maryland troops, and was among the earliest to fall in Stirling's line.

Captain Joseph Jewett, of Huntington's Continentals, perhaps defending himself to the last, even when escape was impossible, was three times stabbed with British bayonets after surrendering his sword. Cared for by a humane surgeon, but still lingering in pain, he died on the morning of the 29th, and was buried in the Bennett orchard, near Twenty-second Street and Third Avenue. He left a family at Lyme, on the Connecticut, where he lived, and from where he went to join the army on the Lexington alarm. A soldier who fought on Long Island remembers him as "an officer much respected and beloved, of elegant and commanding appearance, and of unquestionable bravery."

The officers and men of the artillery, who fought the six pieces we had in the action, covered themselves with honor. They were "the flower" of Knox's regiment, picked for a field fight. Captain Carpenter, of Providence, fell in Stirling's command, leaving a widow to mourn him. Captain John Johnston, of Boston, was desperately wounded, but recovered under the care of Surgeon Eustis. The record which John Callender, of the same place, made for himself is a familiar story. To wipe out the stain of an undeserved sentence passed upon him after Bunker Hill, by which he was cashiered, he rejoined the artillery as a private soldier, and then, as a "cadet," fought his piece on Long Island until the enemy's bayonets were at his breast. Upon his exchange as prisoner a year later, Washington restored him to his rank as captain-lieutenant, and he served honorably to the end of the war. Harmanus Rutgers, one of the patriotic Rutgers brothers in New York, serving, it would seem, as a gunner, was struck in the breast by a cannon-shot, and fell dead at his post. The tradition preserved in his family is that he was the first man killed in the battle. Knox, hearing how well his men had done, wrote to his wife: "I have met with some loss in my regiment. They fought like heroes and are gone to glory."

Of three others known to have been killed during the day, and who probably complete the list of officers, we have no more than the fact that they fell. They were Lieutenant Joseph Jacquet, of Miles' first battalion, and Lieutenants David Sloan and Charles Taylor, of the second battalion--all apparently from Chester County, Pennsylvania. Hardly more than three or four names of the private soldiers who were killed have been preserved, owing doubtless to the fact that, if they were ever known, it was not until long after, when no rolls would show their fate.

To the roll of the dead must be added also the honored name of General Nathaniel Woodhull, of Long Island. On the day after the battle, a party of British light horse, under Oliver De Lancey, rode out on the Jamaica Road and surprised the general at an inn, where without provocation he was cruelly hacked in the head and arm, and carried off a prisoner. He survived until the 20th, when he died at New Utrecht. His loss was greatly regretted, for he was a man of energy and ability, and had the success of the Revolutionary cause most fervently at heart.[159]

[Footnote 159: Mr. Onderdonk, Mr. Thompson, and others have gathered and published all the known incidents respecting the fate of General Woodhull, which are doubtless familiar to those interested in the history of Long Island. See General Scott's brief reference to him in _Document_ 6.]

* * * * *

This battle was regarded at the time as one of very great importance, and the result created a deep impression on both sides of the water. In England they had long been waiting for the news, and the king became depressed at the British delay in moving; in addition, the first reports, coming by way of France, were unfavorable. But at last, at three o'clock on the morning of October 10th, Major Cuyler, of Howe's staff, reached the government with the official accounts of the victory. Immediately, as Walpole tells us, the Court was filled with "an extravagance of joy." The relief was so great that it was displayed with "the utmost ostentation." The king at once determined to send Howe "a red riband;" and Lord Mansfield, who had thrown the weight of his great legal abilities against America, was created an earl. The Mayor and Corporation of York voted an address to his Majesty "on the victory at Long Island;" at Leeds they rang the bells, lighted windows, fired cannon, and started a huge bonfire which made the town "quite luminous;" and at Halifax, Colne, Huddersfield, and many other places, similar rejoicings were held. At Limerick Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell ordered the garrison under arms, and fired three volleys "on account of the success of his Majesty's troops at Long Island;" and, for the same reason, in the evening "a number of ladies and gentlemen were elegantly entertained at dinner by the bishop." From Paris Silas Deane wrote to Congress: "The want of instructions or intelligence or remittances, with the late check on Long Island, has sunk our credit to nothing." In Amsterdam, the centre of exchange for all Europe, English stocks rose; but the Dutch, with characteristic shrewdness, failed to accept "our misfortune" as final, and took the opportunity to sell out. In London Tory circles they considered the American war as practically over, and some began to talk of new schemes of colonial government.

As for America, the defeat, coupled with the subsequent retreat, everywhere carried alarm and keen disappointment. Greene speaks of the "panic" in the county. But at the same time many brave voices were raised to counteract despondency. Parsons, in the army, wrote: "I think the trial of that day far from being any discouragement, but in general our men behaved with firmness." Bartlett, in Congress, sent word home to New Hampshire that he hoped the event would only make our generals more careful in their future operations. "We have lost a battle and a small island," said Dr. Rush, of Philadelphia, in one of the sessions a few days later, "but we have not lost a State. Why then should we be discouraged? Or why should we be discouraged even if we had lost a State? If there were but one State left, still that one should peril all for independence." "The panic may seize whom it will," wrote John Adams; "it shall not seize me." But the grandest words inspired by the pervading anxiety were those penned by Abigail Adams, the noble wife of the Massachusetts delegate. "We have had many stories," she wrote from Braintree, September 9th, "concerning engagements upon Long Island this week, of our lines being forced and of our troops returning to New York. Particulars we have not yet obtained. All we can learn is that we have been unsuccessful there; having many men as prisoners, among whom are Lord Stirling and General Sullivan. _But if we should be defeated, I think we shall not be conquered. A people fired, like the Romans, with love of their country and of liberty, a zeal for the public good, and a noble emulation of glory, will not be disheartened or dispirited by a succession of unfortunate events. But, like them, may we learn by defeat the power of becoming invincible!_"

This was the true inspiration of the hour. It was this that sustained Washington and the strong men of the country through all the dark period that followed. The disaster of the 27th was a disciplinary experience. It was but the first of a series of blows that were to harden us for future endurance. The event was accepted in this spirit by all who had taken up the cause in earnest; and in this light the memory of the day deserves to be forever celebrated and perpetuated. Here, on Long Island, all was done that could be done, for we had met the enemy at the sea. Here America made her first stand against England's first great effort to subdue her; and here her resolution to continue resistance was first tested and tempered in the fire of battle.

* * * * *

THE LOSSES AT THE BATTLE.--So many widely different
estimates have been made as to the extent of the American
loss on Long Island, that it becomes a matter of historical
interest to fix the actual figures, if possible, beyond
dispute.

The first official reference to the matter occurs in the
letter which Washington directed Colonel Harrison, his
secretary, to write to Congress on the evening of the
battle. Nothing definite on this point being known at that
hour, Harrison, after announcing the attack of the enemy,
and the retreat of the troops into the Brooklyn lines, could
only make the vague report that the American loss was
"pretty considerable." On Thursday morning, the 29th, at
"half after four A.M.," Washington himself wrote to Hancock
that he was still uncertain how far the army had suffered.
On Saturday, the 31st, he wrote again, and in this letter
gave an estimate in figures. This was the only report he
made to Congress in the matter, except indirectly. "Nor have
I," he writes, "been yet able to obtain an exact account of
our loss; we suppose it from seven hundred to a thousand
killed and taken." In subsequent public and private letters
to his brother, to Governor Trumbull, General Schuyler, and
the Massachusetts Assembly, Washington did not vary these
figures materially (except to make the estimate closer,
about 800), and they stand, therefore, as his official
return of the casualties of that day.

Sir William Howe's report, on the other hand, presented
altogether a different showing. It left no room for doubt as
to the extent of the British victory. Dated September 3d,
seven days after the affair, it contained all those
particulars of events up to that time which a successful
general is well aware will be received with special
satisfaction by his government. The landing at Gravesend,
the occupation of Flatbush, the skilful march of the
flanking column, the bravery of the troops, and the complete
success of the entire plan of action were mentioned in
order; while a detailed statement and estimate of the losses
on either side, including a tabulated return of prisoners
taken, only fortified the impression that a most damaging
defeat had been served upon the Americans. Against
Washington's estimate of a total of one thousand or less for
his own loss, Howe reported that the enlisted men he
captured alone numbered one thousand and six, and that in
addition he took ninety-one commissioned officers, of whom
three were generals, three colonels, four
lieutenant-colonels, three majors, eighteen captains,
forty-three lieutenants, eleven ensigns, one adjutant, three
surgeons, and two volunteers; and he "computed" that in
killed, wounded, and drowned, the Americans lost two
thousand two hundred more. On the part of the British, Howe
reported five officers and fifty-six men killed, twelve
officers and two hundred and fifty-five men wounded, and one
officer and thirty men prisoners and missing. The Hessians
lost two men killed, three officers and twenty-three men
wounded. Howe's total loss, in a word, was made to appear at
less than four hundred; Washington's full three thousand
three hundred.

The apparent exactness of this report has secured it, in
general, against close analysis. English historians, almost
without exception, quote it as it stands, while there are
American writers who respect it so far as to pronounce
Washington's report clearly, and even purposely, inaccurate.
Thus the most recent English history of this period says:
"The Americans fled in confusion, leaving upwards of three
thousand killed, wounded, and prisoners, including their
three generals of division;" and in a note the writer adds:
"Washington's estimate of the loss on both sides was grossly
incorrect. In his letter to Congress of the 30th August,
giving a very meagre and evasive account of the action, he
says that his loss in killed and prisoners was from 700 to
1000; and that he had reason to believe the enemy had
suffered still more. This would seem to be a wilful
misrepresentation to prevent the public alarm which might
have been caused by the knowledge of his real loss; were it
not that in a private letter to his brother, three weeks
afterwards, he makes a similar statement. General Howe's
returns of _prisoners_, and of his own killed and wounded,
are precise." (_History of England during the Reign of
George the Third._ By the Right Hon. William Massey, 1865.)
Among Brooklyn writers, Mr. Field asserts that Washington
concealed the actual extent of his loss, and Dr. Stiles
accepts the British report as it stands. Marshall puts the
American loss at over 1000; Irving, 2000; Lossing, 1650;
Field, 2000; Sparks, 1100; Bancroft, 800; Carrington, 970.
Stedman, the earliest British historian, gives 2000, while
Adolphus, Jesse, and Massey, who cover the reign of George
III., blindly follow Howe and give over 3000 for the
American loss.

There is but one explanation of this wide discrepancy
between the British and American returns, namely:
Washington's original estimate at its largest limit--one
thousand, killed, wounded, and prisoners--_was almost
precisely correct_.

Of this there can be no question whatever, the proof being a
matter of record. Thus, on the 8th of October, Washington
issued the following order: "The General desires the
commanding officers of each regiment or corps will give in a
list of the names and the officers and men who were killed,
taken, or missing in the action of the 27th of August on
Long Island and since that period. He desires the returns
may be correct, &c." (_Force_). A large number of these
lists are preserved in _Force_, 5th series, vol. iii., and
from these we obtain the losses of the following regiments:
Hitchcock's, total loss, one officer and nine men; Little's,
three men; Huntington's, twenty-one officers and one hundred
and eighty-six men; Wyllys', one officer and nine men;
Tyler, three men; Ward, three men; Chester, twelve men; Gay,
four men; Lasher, three officers. Smallwood's lost,
according to Gist, twelve officers and two hundred and
forty-seven men; Haslet, according to his own letters, two
officers and twenty-five men; Johnston's New Jersey, two
officers and less than twenty-five men, the rolls before and
after the battle showing no greater difference in the
strength of the regiment; Miles' two battalions, sixteen
officers and about one hundred and sixty men (_Document_
61); Atlee, eleven officers and seventy-seven men. (_Ibid._)
No official report of the losses in Lutz's, Kachlein's, and
Hay's detachments or the artillery can be found, but to give
their total casualties at one hundred and fifty officers and
men is probably a liberal estimate. Lutz lost six officers
(all prisoners); Kachlein not more; Hay, one; the artillery,
three. The regiments named in the foregoing list include all
from which Howe reported that he took officers prisoners,
from which it is safe to conclude that these were all that
lost any. No others are mentioned as having been engaged.
These figures show in round numbers a total of _one
thousand_, and this was our total loss, according to
official returns in nearly every case.

How many of these, in the next place, were killed and
wounded? If we are to credit certain Hessian and British
accounts, as well as those of our own local historians, the
battle-field on Long Island was a scene of carnage, a pen in
which our men were slaughtered without mercy. The confused
strife, says one writer, "is too terrible for the
imagination to dwell upon." "An appalling massacre," says
another, "thus closed the combat." "The forest," writes a
Hessian officer, "was a scene of horror; there were
certainly two thousand killed and wounded lying about." Lord
Howe himself, as we have seen, "computed" that the American
loss in killed and wounded alone was two thousand three
hundred. But a striking commentary on this computation is
not only the total omission on his part to mention how many
of this very large number he buried on the field, but the
important admission he makes that not more than sixty-seven
wounded American officers and soldiers fell into his hands!
Where were the twenty-two hundred other maimed and fallen
rebels? Obviously, and as Howe must have well known, the
Americans could carry few if any of their dead with them on
their precipitate retreat, nor could any but the slightly
hurt of the wounded make their escape. Full two thousand, by
this calculation, must have been left upon the field. Who
buried them? Were they the victims of the supposed frightful
slaughter? Did the British general purposely give an evasive
estimate to cover up the inhumanity which would thus have
forever stained the glory of his victory? Far from it. That
"computation" has no basis to stand upon; but, on the
contrary, our loss in killed and wounded was not greater
than the enemy's, but most probably less.

This statement will bear close examination. On the 19th of
September, after he must have been able to satisfy himself
as to the extent of the defeat on Long Island, the
commander-in-chief wrote to the Massachusetts Assembly that
he had lost about eight hundred men, "more than three
fourths of which were taken prisoners." He wrote the same
thing to others. So Washington felt authorized to state
positively that we lost in killed and wounded that day not
over two hundred men and officers. "The enemy's loss in
killed," he added, "we could never ascertain; but have many
reasons to believe that it was pretty considerable, and
exceeded ours a good deal." General Parsons, who saw as much
of the field as any other officer, wrote to John Adams two
days after the battle: "Our loss in killed and wounded is
inconsiderable." General Scott, writing to John Jay, a week
later, could say: "What our loss on Long Island was I am not
able to estimate. I think from the best accounts we must
have killed many of the enemy." Colonel Douglas wrote,
August 31st: "The enemy surrounded a large detachment of our
army, took many, killed some and the rest got off.... By the
best account we killed more of them than they did of us. But
they took the most prisoners." Lieutenant-Colonel Chambers,
who was in the way of gathering many particulars from the
Pennsylvanians who escaped, says: "Our men behaved as
bravely as men ever did; but it is surprising that, with the
superiority of numbers, they were not cut to pieces.... Our
loss is chiefly in prisoners." Lieutenant-Colonel Brodhead,
who had to retreat among the last over the very ground which
others have marked out as the scene of the massacre, as the
site where "lay nearly one thousand men, slain in the shock
of battle, or by subsequent murder" (_Field_)--Brodhead
says: "I retreated to the lines, having lost out of the
whole battalion, about one hundred men, officers included,
which, as they were much scattered, must be chiefly
prisoners.... No troops could behave better than the
Southern, for though they seldom engaged less than five to
one, they frequently repulsed the Enemy with great
Slaughter, and I am confident that the number of killed and
wounded on their side, is greater than on ours,
notwithstanding we had to fight them front and rear under
every disadvantage." Colonel Silliman, of Connecticut, who
appears to have made particular inquiries in the matter,
wrote, September 10th: "I think upon the best information I
can get that we are about 1000 men the worse for that
action. The Enemy say they have about 800 of them prisoners.
We have about 50 of them in the hospital wounded. Of the
other 150 'tis said that in the engagement a considerable
number of the riflemen deserted and went over to the enemy
and some no doubt escaped towards the other end of the
Island. On the whole I do not think we had 50 men killed in
the action." (_MS. letter._) These are statements made by
officers who were present at the battle, and who wrote
within a few days of the event. They all, with many others,
reach the same conclusion that the enemy suffered in killed
and wounded as much if not more than the Americans. Their
testimony, moreover, is strengthened by what we know
directly and indirectly from the returns and other sources.
The loss in officers, of which we have exact figures, is one
basis of calculation. Ninety-one, as already stated, were
taken prisoners, of whom nine were reported wounded in
Howe's return. Among these were General Woodhull, Colonel
Johnston, and Captain Jewett, all three mortally wounded,
and Captain Bowie and Lieutenant Butler, of the Marylanders;
Captain Johnston, of the artillery; Captain Peebles, of
Miles', and Lieutenant Makepeace, of Huntington's. [Colonel
Johnston is usually mentioned as having been killed on the
field. But Howe's return gives one New Jersey colonel
prisoner, and Elking's Hessian account states that he was
wounded after being made prisoner.] Among officers known to
be wounded, not captured, were Major McDonough, Lieutenants
Course and Anderson, of the Delawares; Lieutenant Hughes, of
Hitchcock's; and Captain Farmer, of Miles'. Lieutenant
Patterson, of Hay's detachment, was either killed or
captured (Colonel Cunningham's return). The officers killed
were Lieutenant-Colonel Parry, Captain Carpenter, Captain
Veazey, and Lieutenants Sloan, Jacquet, and Taylor. Various
accounts state that Colonel Rutgers, Lieutenant-Colonel
Eppes, Major Abeel (of Lasher's), Captain Fellows, and
Lieutenant Moore (of Pennsylvania) were killed, but there is
an error in each case, all these officers being reported
alive at different dates after the battle. We have, then,
twenty-one killed or wounded (six only killed on the field)
among the American officers engaged in the action. If, as we
have a right to assume, the same proportion held among the
enlisted men, our total loss in killed and wounded could not
have exceeded two hundred or two hundred and fifty, or more
than one hundred less than the enemy's loss. Parsons and
Atlee write that they lost but two or three. Miles says that
in one of his skirmishes he lost a number of men, but nearly
all were made prisoners. Little's regiment lost one killed;
Hitchcock's the same. The five companies of Smallwood's
battalion that attacked Cornwallis lost but one officer
wounded, or at the most one killed and one wounded, and
there is no reason to suppose that the men suffered very
heavily. The loss among the Delawares was nearly all in
prisoners. Lutz had six officers taken, but none killed or
wounded; Hay lost one officer, either killed or prisoner. In
Kachlein's detachment it is certain that the
lieutenant-colonel, major, adjutant, three captains, and
three lieutenants were not killed, which leaves little room
for casualties in a party of not over four or five
companies. So of all the other regiments engaged, they
suffered but slightly in killed or wounded.

Howe's list of prisoners was undoubtedly swelled by captures
among the Long Island militia and citizen Whigs after the
battle. He includes General Woodhull and two lieutenants,
for instance, who were not taken at the battle but on the
day following, and who, as Washington says, were "never
arranged" in his army.

The reports of the slaughter and massacre of our troops
current in the enemy's camp at the time were greatly
exaggerated. Some of our men were probably cut down most
wantonly in the pursuit through the woods, both by British
and Hessians, but the number was small. It is a noticeable
and significant fact that the American accounts make no
mention of any such wholesale cruelty, and certainly our
soldiers would have been the first to call attention to it.
That word "massacre" should have no place in any accurate
description of the battle.