but the same want of accord between the British generals, which had more than once interposed a barrier to their success, again interfered to prevent the complete triumph of the British arms.

Gen. Robertson's brigade at this time occupied a position across the Jamaica and Gowanus roads; his advance being posted, as he asserts, at the distance of one hundred and twenty to two hundred yards from the American lines. The coolness that had been engendered by the events of the twenty-seventh, between Robertson and his Commander-in-chief, had not lessened in the interval, and the former seems to have determined that he would volunteer neither action nor advice. Gen. Robertson admitted, on his cross-examination by Gen. Howe, that he received information of the evacuation of the American camp in Brooklyn, before seven o'clock; yet nearly two hours had elapsed before he actually marched a detachment of his brigade to occupy the abandoned lines. He declared, on his examination, that he was awaiting orders from the commanding General; and seems to have been more animated by a desire to fasten the responsibility of gross neglect and bad management upon his Commander, than to avail himself of his important advantage. An hour previous to Robertson's movement, his pickets, lighthorse, and advanced posts, had been in possession of the American redoubts and fortified lines.1

1At half-past eight the first brigade, commanded by Gen. Robertson in person, entered the lines; and soon after the fog so lifted that from the hill near High street, he could just discern the last boats of the retreating Americans push off from the shore, while the further side of the River was covered with those who had already made good their escape. So close were the British upon the rear of the Americans that several stragglers were

Four hours of the summer's morning had passed, and still an obscurity as of night hid the great events which were transpiring. Amid the gloom moved one majestic form, controlling the elements of discord, and struggling with inexhaustible energy, to master even the apparent decisions of fate. Unshaken by the terrors of that dreadful night, unmoved by the appalling dangers that threatened every instant to overwhelm that throng of despairing men, he sat on his gray battle horse, by the Brooklyn ferry, through those long hours of dismay, like the genius of destiny. On that stern, calm face, the conflicting emotions which swelled his heart, left no trace. All the tremendous possible disasters must have been clear to his apprehension. He saw how those thousands of unmanned and terror-stricken soldiers, would melt away before the awful storm of shot and shell that in another hour might rain upon them. He saw the enemy's batteries, of forty guns, wheel into position for close firing, on the hill at Concord and Prospect streets. Fifteen thousand bayonets gleamed on his vision as they sunk to the irresistible charge. And two thousand cavalry swept before his mental vision, in pursuit of the wretched fugitives who still survived. Thus, conscious of the dangers which impended, and unappalled by their imminence, he

killed, or taken prisoners; among whom were three soldiers who had lingered to plunder, and on the approach of the advanced guard of the British, had hastened to their boat, but who were fired upon and compelled to yield. The light troops of the British reached Fort Stirling on the Heights in time to withdraw the spikes from the abandoned guns, and open fire upon some of the retreating boats. Notwithstanding the haste of the evacuation the British found but twenty-six guns, in the redoubts and fortifications; and these had been made as nearly useless as the necessity for silence and expedition would permit.

sat amid the tumult, whose genius was to mould these unpromising elements into a result that should vindicate, for all time, his unequalled power and endurance. Thus, tireless in energy while danger was nigh, and last in retreat when it was over, Washington, always greatest when everything seemed lost, saw his army extricated from the jaws of a destruction that had almost closed upon it.

There was one officer, who, at the little village of Jamaica, had listened with anxious ear to the distant booming of the cannon on the day of battle, who was now passing the last ordeal of humanity. The high station which he had held in the councils of the revolutionists, the grand moderation of his character, combined with the firmness, patriotism, and self-devotion for which he was remarkable, would under any circumstances have given him an honorable reputation. But when the acts of his pure life were crowned with the final sacrifice of martyrdom, Gen. Woodhull's name was enrolled among his country's noblest heroes. So much sorrow and indignation has his fate elicited, that the partisans of the murdered General and of his slayer, though a century is closing its shadows over the event, are still hotly contesting the indictment brought against the latter, by historians who have weighed the testimony on either side. Gen. Nathaniel Woodhull had been earlier called into the service of his country, than many of his brother offi

cers; for, like Washington, he had acquired some knowledge of military life in the old French war. He had been chosen President of the provincial Congress of New York, in which sat such distinguished revolutionists as Jay, Livingston, Schuyler, and Benson. At an early period in the formation of a military force, Woodhull had been appointed Brigadier-General of the State levies; and he commanded the district including the counties of Long Island.

It was considered important by the provincial Congress that Woodhull, from his intimate knowledge of the Island, should take personal command of the militia drafted from its towns; and, accordingly, soon after the landing of the British forces, he left the presidential chair for the open field. Information had reached New York that the enemy's troops were suffering from want of fresh provisions; and to prevent them from receiving a supply was to be the first object of Woodhull's attention. The ungracious task fell to his hands, therefore, of depriving his old neighbors of their cattle and grain.

From Yellow Hook to Jamaica, all the horses, cattle, and swine, were swept out in great droves upon the plains of Hempstead, or gathered within the Brooklyn lines. Columns of smoke, over every farm, indicated the work of destruction, in the burning stacks of grain and provender. The inhabitants were permitted, by the orders of the provincial Congress, to retain only that portion of their crops which was absolutely necessary for the sustenance of life. One cow, and one horse, was left in each neighborhood of three or four families. The provincial Congress had most unaccountably delayed the execution of one

important military measure until the 24th of August, two days after the landing of the enemy. This was the levy en masse of the militia of the Island. The inhabitants of Kings county, thus hurriedly armed, together with the Suffolk and Queens county regiments, commanded by Cols. Smith and Remsen, were placed under the command of Gen. Woodhull. Notwithstanding the provincial Congress of New York had fully provided for retaining its authority over the militia of the colony, by the appointment of its President to the command, that body, jealous of its own authority, or distrustful of the ability of its officers, still dictated the movements of the forces under their command. Gen. Woodhull was directed by this unmilitary authority to perform a service unworthy of his rank, and at a hazard which, perhaps, it was impossible for even military genius to foresee. Congress, by resolution, had provided for his support by the Long Island regiments of militia under Smith and Remsen, but the exigencies of the service prevented this.

Washington replied to the delegates of Congress, that 'he was afraid that it was too late to accomplish its tardy resolve of driving off all the cattle, and securing the provisions,' but gave his consent to detach Smith's and Remsen's regiments on that service. Congress at once directed a letter to be sent to Woodhull, informing him that these troops had marched, and would join him immediately. In the afternoon of the same day, the General received another letter from Congress, in which they notified him that they had adopted resolutions, two days previously, which prescribed the mode in which they wished their orders carried out.