sing as such a disaster was to the spirits of the people, it was infinitely less so, than a retreat would have been, pursued by an active enemy, leaving the whole country behind him, and a whole season for his operations to be effected in, without one effort to arrest his course. By this contention for Long Island, though the enemy had succeeded, it was of no advantage to him-the season had nearly passed away and the campaign was soon to be terminated.

The loss of the British and Hessians, in this battle, has been variously stated. Once it has been estimated at four hundred and fifty; but a more particular account states the exact loss of the British at three hundred and eighteen, of whom only sixty-one were slain, and of the Hessians at three hundred killed, and twenty-six wounded. Total three hundred and forty

seven.

The American loss was much greater. Hemmed in on all sides, broken and in disorder, sustaining an uninterrupted fire and continual charges from both parties for a considerable time, and finally escaping through a morass and a creek, the estimate of one thousand will be regarded as much within the truth. It probably amounted to fifteen hundred killed, wounded and prisoners.

Many large bodies escaped by flight at the first onset, that might have been captured, had they offered more resistance. General Sullivan, Lord Stirling, three Colonels, four Lieutenant Colonels, three Majors, eighteen Captains, forty-three Lieutenants, eleven Ensigns, together with ten hundred and eleven privates and non-commissioned officers, are reported as the exact amount of prisoners taken, including the wounded. Six pieces of brass ordnance were

taken. One regiment, Colonel Smallwood's, from Maryland, was almost cut to pieces. They were all young men, and of the best families in the country.— Their conduct was sufficient to show what Americans could do in battle, with officers in whom they could trust. It was the manoeuvering of the enemy that conquered the Americans. They had withstood the bayonet, but they were gallantly contending in front, a new enemy approaching in silence, unexpectedly attacked in their rear. To raw and unexperienced troops such operations are always terrible, as they know they are irretrieveably lost if one false step is made. For a long time after, the terrours of this day were rememberd, and the appearance of any manœuvre in the enemy was the signal for a retreat to the Americans.

Thus terminated the first great struggle after the Declaration of Independence, and if every thing be considered, the disproportionate strength, experience, and state of the combatants, it must be allowed that it terminated favourably for the Americans.

CHAPTER XV.

Effect of the Defeat on Long Island-State of the Army-Negociation with Lord Howe-Preparations of the Enemy for cutting off the communication between the main army and the Eastern States-Shameful flight at Kipp's Bay-Evacuation of NewYork-Reflections Arrangement of Congress for a rigorous prosecution of the War-Spirited conduct of the troops who had lately fled at the approach of an Enemy-Retreat to the White Plains-Loss of Fort Washington-Evacuation of Fort Lee-Melancholy prospect of the Americans-Reflections.

THE effect produced on the minds of the militia by their recent defeat on Long Island, may be seen by the following extracts from letters written by officers, high in command, among the Americans. General Mercer, who commanded the flying camp, wrote thus on the subject: "General Washington has not, so far as I have seen, five thousand men to be depended upon for the service of a campaign, and I have not one thousand. Both our armies are composed of new militia, perpetually fluctuating between the camp and their farms. These are not a match for, were their numbers equal, veteran troops, well fitted and urged on by able officers. Numbers and discipline must prevail at last. Giving soldiers, or even the lower orders of mankind, the choice of officers, will forever mar the discipline of armies."

General Mercer was right. That "choice of officers" entrusted to the common soldier, was, of itself, enough to destroy all subordination. The officers became dependent upon their men; and they who would concede most, be most familiar, and least rigorous,

were always sure of preference. Few men will voluntarily elect masters. And no officer can be useful, unless he is master of his soldiers.

Washington began soon after his return to New York, to entertain very serious apprehensions about his ability to keep possession of that city. "Till of late," he says, "I had no doubt in my own mind of defending this place; nor should I have yet, if the men would do their duty, but this I despair of."

Another question of an alarming nature to the inhabitants of New York was even worse. "If we should be obliged to abandon the town," says Washington, in another of his despatches, "ought it to stand as winter quarters for the enemy? They would derive good conveniencies from it on the one hand; and much property would be destroyed on the other. But it will admit of but little time for deliberation. At present, I dare say the enemy mean to possess it, if they can. If Congress, therefore, should resolve upon the destruction of it, the resolution should be a profound secret, as the knowledge of it will make a capital change in their plans."

The situation of the American General must have been desperate indeed, to have authorized such a thought for a single moment. He lived in an age when mankind had not learnt to make a sacrifice of their cities to protect them from the unhallowed tread of the invader. But whatever may now be thought of such a design, it is probable that it did not occur to Washington till the question was not whether the cities of his country should be the sanctuaries and refuge of his enemy, or himself; but, whether that was the only method of saving the country. If the former, however heroick the deed had been held, however sublime

the spectacle of such a conflagration might have been regarded, by the world, he never would have sanctioned it. But had the last question been to be decided-his own hand would have placed the fire on her altars and wrapped her dwellings and her temples in flames. This would have been an offering worthy of Liberty-worthy of Washington. To ambition the sacrifice would not have been rash: to Independence it would have been so.

It has been already related that General Sullivan and Lord Sterling were among the prisoners taken by the enemy. The former was paroled, but the latter was not. General Washington complains that his Lordship's account of the battle was not sufficiently minute, and attributes it to some occurrence which interrupted him, as the letter was unfinished. It is not unlikely that he was still considered as a British subject, and consequently a greater degree of rigour would be discovered in his treatment.

General Sullivan was entrusted by Lord Howe, and his brother, Sir William, with a verbal message to Congress, to this effect-that his Lordship could not treat with them in that character then; that he was extremely anxious to come to some accommodation speedily, while, as yet, no decisive advantage had been gained by either party, and it could not be said that either had been conquered into acquiescence or submission; that he would hold a conference with any of their members as private gentlemen; that he was, with the General, fully authorized to settle all differences in an honourable manner; that, were they to treat, many things which the Americans had not yet asked, might and ought to be granted; and if upon a conference there appeared any probable ground