Such was the position of the British army the
evening of the twenty-sixth, separated from the enemy
only by a long range of thickly-wooded hills,
through which were two or three passes, strongly
guarded by detachments of American troops. During
the night both wings of the British army simultaneously
advanced. The right wing and van,
under General Clinton, seized a pass about three
miles east of the village of Bedford, and at daybreak
crossed the heights, surprising and capturing
the guard posted there; then, entering the level
country on the opposite side, they immediately advanced
to turn the flank of the American left.

General Grant, with the left wing of the British
army, advanced along the coast with ten pieces of
artillery; and, to draw the attention of the Americans
from their left, and to cause them to direct their
whole force to this point, he moved slowly, skirmishing
as he advanced. As, nevertheless, he continued
to gain ground, General Putnam sent strong detachments,
which he constantly re-enforced, to check his
advance. At length he directed General Stirling to
lead two of the regiments along the road from the
Narrows, by which Grant was approaching. It
was nearly dawn when Lord Stirling gained the
heights over which the road passed. There he
was joined by the previous re-enforcements sent
by Putnam, which, slowly and in good order, were
retreating before the British column, which was
in sight. He immediately prepared to defend the
heights, when the British opened the spirited cannonade,
the thunder of which had started the citizens
of the beleaguered city from their beds.

Satisfied with defending the heights, Stirling
made no attempt to advance on the enemy below.
General Grant, on his part, had no intention of trying
to drive him from his position until he should

[figure description] Page 150.[end figure description]

be informed of the success of that part of the
plan of attack that had been intrusted to General
Clinton. The two columns, therefore, kept up a
distant cannonading, with occasionally a sharp skirmish
between advanced parties of infantry, which
continued for several hours without any material
advantage. In addition to this, and the more effectually
to bewilder the Americans and draw their
attention to this quarter, the British fleet amused
itself by keeping up a noisy and incessant cannonade
upon the battery at Red Hook.

While both wings of the invading army were
moving forward—one, in silence, to a real, the other,
with the roar of artillery and roll of musketry, to a
feigned attack—their centre, composed of Hessians
under General de Heister, continued to stand its
original ground at Flatbush, which it was ordered to
maintain until Clinton's ruse had been successfully
executed. To divert the attention of the Americans
from the right wing, De Heister kept up a warm
cannonade against General Sullivan, who, with a
considerable force, had thrown himself between
him and the American army for the purpose of
defending a pass in the highlands which was directly
in front of the British centre. By this ruse
de guerre the attention of the American general
was drawn wholly to the British left and centre,
while their main column, the right wing, consisting
of the largest part of the army, was advancing
in silence and secrecy against the American left.
Every step of Clinton's progress, after he had
seized the eastern pass and crossed the heights,
not only brought him nearer the lines at Brooklyn,
but in the rear of the generals, Sullivan and Stirling,
who were on the heights defending their respective
passes against Grant and De Heister. No military
stratagem during the revolutionary contest was

[figure description] Page 151.[end figure description]

better planned or more singularly successful than
this.

At length, some time after sunrise, an aiddecamp
came spurring up, and informed General de Heister
that Clinton had reached Bedford and gained
the rear of Sullivan's left. On receiving this information
he advanced to attack this officer's position.
Sullivan's forces awaited the attack with
firmness, when a firing in their rear from Clinton's
column, which at this instant turned their left flank,
threw them into confusion. In vain Sullivan tried
to rally them. Without waiting to receive the
charge of De Heister and his Hessians, they turned
their backs and fled in the greatest confusion and
completely routed, each man seeking to gain the
security of the camp at Brooklyn with reference
only to his individual safety. The centre advanced
to an easy victory, and hastened to form a junction
with its right wing. The Americans, driven before
it, found themselves hemmed in between two armies,
and, seeking to cut their way back to their
camp in detachments, were slain in great numbers.

General Stirling, hearing from his position the
firing towards Brooklyn, saw at once the deception
that had been practised; and, aware of the critical
situation of the army, he made a precipitate retreat.
Lord Cornwallis, however, had thrown himself in
his rear, and occupied the only avenue by which
he could withdraw his troops. Without hesitation,
he gallantly attacked and nearly dislodged him from
his position; but, overpowered by superior numbers,
he at length surrendered, with the remnant of
his brave regiment, prisoners of war.

Having anticipated events a little in the last paragraph,
to open a clearer road to our story, we now
revert to the movements of the column under General
Clinton which so unexpectedly and fatally to

[figure description] Page 152.[end figure description]

the American army decided the fate of the day,
and with which the thread of our romance is more
closely woven.

The left wing of the Americans was drawn up
along the northern face of the heights, and was in
part covered by a thick wood which extended to
their summits. About eight o'clock in the morning,
near the edge of this wood, on slightly rising
ground in front of the lines, was gathered a group
of mounted officers, distinguished among whom
was General Putnam, who was momently receiving
reports or sending orders to different parts of the
field. The cannonading from the British centre
and left was incessant, and nearly the whole effective
force of the American army had been fruitlessly
despatched against these two bodies, which,
as we have seen, were believed to be the only attacking
columns, and also to comprise the whole
force of the British army.

“How goes it with Sullivan, Ogden?” inquired
General Putnam of a young officer who, at the moment
we introduce the reader to the group, rode up,
covered with mud and foam.

“Warmly enough. The Hessians play their
artillery to lively music.”

“Have they left their position?”

“Not a foot. Sullivan holds the pass, and De
Heister contents himself with exchanging six-pounders
with him at a distance. I know not
what to make of it.”

“'Tis an odd game John Bull is playing throughout,”
replied the general. “Welcome, Major Burton!”
he cried to that officer, who at that instant
dashed into the midst of the party, with his horse
reeking, his sword drawn and bloody, and his
whole appearance that of one from the midst of
the fight. “You have seen the enemy! How

[figure description] Page 153.[end figure description]

goes the day? Does Stirling hold his ground?
Needs he further re-enforcements?”

“He still holds the pass, and will, no doubt, maintain
it with what men he has. The British have
made several feints, but have not yet tried to force
his position.”

“Clinton is at some deep game,” said General
Putnam, with a thoughtful brow.

“Neither Clinton, Percy, nor Cornwallis are
with either of the divisions,” continued Burton.
“I approached that opposed to Lord Stirling near
enough to distinguish the staff with my glass. I
met Livingston on the field, who reconnoitred the
column at Flatbush, and reports the same. The
British are not playing their artillery all the morning
for their own amusement. It is Clinton's intention
to surprise us, if he can, by seizing some
unguarded pass through the highlands, and so turn
our flank. This firing is only to divert us till he
succeeds.”

“But all the passes are well guarded, Major
Burton; and we should instantly be apprized of
any such attempts by our outposts.”

“They may have surprised these, and so prevent
your receiving any information. Moreover,
there are no horse among the detachments, and the
enemy would be here as soon as they.”

“It may be so. Spur forward, Major Burton,
and collect what news you can.”

The aiddecamp buried his spurs to the rowel-head,
and disappeared on the road towards Bedford.
He entered the path which led along the heights,
and rode forward until he came within sight of the
village; suddenly he heard discharges of musketry,
the shouts of combatants, and the report of artillery.
He involuntarily reined up, but the next moment
rode forward to an eminence by the roadside, and

[figure description] Page 154.[end figure description]

beheld the British column under Clinton advancing
in an interminable line along the Jamaica road.
Its vanguard had already surprised the detachment
in the village, completely routing them after receiving
their irregular fire.

A glance satisfied him that it would be in vain
to attempt to rally the dispersed troops, which had
reached the hill and were flying past him along the
road to regain the camp at Brooklyn; and, turning
his horse's head, he rode back at full speed to
convey the intelligence to General Putnam.

He had hardly regained the road when he was
involved in the confused melée of the retreating
detachment, which its officers were vainly endeavouring
to rally. But discipline had given place to
fear; and, throwing down their muskets, with their
faces set towards Brooklyn, the panic-struck warriors
fled, looking neither to the right hand nor to
the left; so that the first intimation the American
army were likely to receive of the approach of
the enemy was by their outposts tumbling in head-long
upon their lines.

“Gentlemen,” cried Burton to the leaders, as
they came to a gorge in the road defended by high
banks, “make a stand here if in your power. Give
the enemy a momentary check.”

With the exertions of two or three of the officers,
and the animating voice of Burton, they rallied.
But, as the plumes and bayonets of the enemy appeared
over the top of the hill, they broke, and
again fled with precipitation on the main body.
In despair, Burton put spurs to his horse and galloped
forward. Half way from the lines he met
General Putnam, who, advancing thus far in his
anxiety to gain intelligence, found himself at once
in the midst of his flying soldiers.

[figure description] Page 155.[end figure description]

“For God's sake, Major Burton, speak! Have
they possession of the pass?”

“A column some thousands strong have surprised
Bedford, are now entering the pass, and in
thirty minutes will turn our flank!”

“We are lost.”

“There is no hope, certainly, for the left wing,
sir.”

“Nor for the whole army. Not a man will
stand in the ranks to meet the desperate charge.
See,” he said, as they came in sight of the American
army, “the lines already begin to waver, panic-struck
by the wild rush of their comrades towards
them.”

“The army must retreat.”

“There is no alternative.”

After a moment's discussion of their perilous situation,
and ascertaining more accurately the overwhelming
force coming upon them, General Putnam
ordered a retreat. To retire in the face of an
excited and conquering foe, before a blow has been
struck by the fugitives to rouse their blood, is almost
always fatal. Alarmed by the firing on their
flank and by the flying soldiers, the Americans, although
they began to retreat in good order, soon
broke into regiments, and then into companies, and,
retiring in disorder and haste, endeavoured to regain
the works in their rear. General Putnam,
nevertheless, by his presence of mind, saved a great
portion of the ill-fated wing.

“Burton,” he said to his aiddecamp, who had
just reined up by his side after conveying an order
to a colonel of a regiment in great peril, whom he
assisted in successfully extricating his command,
“there are two or three companies of infantry by
yonder copse; their colonel is down, with half a
dozen of his officers, and I fear they will give way

[figure description] Page 156.[end figure description]

before they reach the intrenchments. Ride and
place yourself at their head.”

The party in question was defending itself with
gallantry against a superior force. The quick eye
of the young soldier saw that they were hemmed in
on three sides by a marsh thickly set with bushes,
which prevented farther retreat; and that, unless
they could cut their way by a bold charge through
the ranks of their foes, they must either surrender
prisoners of war or be cut to pieces. Skirting the
copse, and gathering, as he spurred along, half a
score of stragglers, who rallied under his orders, he
came unobserved upon the flank of the enemy, here
but two or three deep, and through an opening in
the hedge charged them vigorously. At this sudden
attack from an unlooked-for quarter they gave
way. Following up his success, he leaped into the
area, and, wheeling round, placed himself at the
head of the division he had come to aid.

“Now, my brave fellows!” he shouted to the
soldiers, who still presented a firm front, “I will
save you or share your fate. Follow me!”

Firing his pistols in the faces of the enemy,
he waved his sword and rode upon their bristling
bayonets. The Americans, inspired by the presence
and example of their new leader, made a sudden
and desperate charge. The opposing phalanx
swayed to and fro before it, but settled again after
the first shock, and stood as firm as an iron wall.

“Retreat, and try them again!” shouted Burton,
wheeling and placing himself at their head.

Thrice was the command repeated, and as many
times was it obeyed. Before the third desperate
charge the solid ranks of the English gave way, and
the determined band of Americans gained the open
hillside; and, although hard pressed by their foes,

[figure description] Page 157.[end figure description]

who closed upon their rear, they retreated in good
order, and safely retired within the intrenchments.

Burton, however, after they had gained the open
field, left them to effect their retreat alone. He
had turned to rejoin General Putnam, when Zacharie,
whom he had not seen since daybreak, mounted
on the horse of some dismounted English officer,
made his appearance, galloping down a steep
descent at the imminent peril of his neck, and
shouting at the top of his lungs,

“For the love of the Virgin and all the saints!
help the general; he is hard pressed.”

“Where?”

“This way.”

Guiding his horse over the ground strewn with
the dead and the dying, Zacharie crossed a low
wooded ridge closely followed by Burton, who, on
gaining the summit, beheld General Putnam on
foot, his horse slain, gallantly defending himself
against two grenadiers and a mounted Hessian officer,
while two dragoons lay dead at his feet.

“To the rescue, Major Burton,” he shouted,
dealing a well-directed blow upon the head of a
grenadier with the butt end of a carbine, and striking
him to the ground, at the same time parrying
a pass of the Hessian's sword.

“To the rescue,” shouted Zacharie, as he came
in sight; and, descending the hillside at a furious
rate, he drove his horse full against the remaining
grenadier as he was about to revenge his comrade
by a tremendous stroke of his broadsword on the
uncovered head of the general, and bore him bodily
to the ground. The next instant he was upon
his throat.

“Yield thee, Goliath, or say thy paternoster
and be dirked.”

[figure description] Page 158.[end figure description]

“I yield,” cried the disabled soldier.

Burton at the same instant crossed blades with
the Hessian, who was pressing hard upon his antagonist,
now greatly exhausted by the unequal combat.
He had exchanged but two or three passes
with the fiery foeman, when two British officers,
galloping over the field, seeing the contest, turned
and rode up at full speed. General Putnam, who
had sprung upon Zacharie's horse as Burton relieved
him from his furious assailant, now prepared
to receive the new-comers.

They came up as Burton sent the Hessian's
blade whistling over his head, and buried his sword
in his body.

“Lie there, base hireling!” he said, wheeling his
horse to meet one of his fresh foes, each of them
having singled out an antagonist, who now came
up. Instantly their weapons clashed, and also at
the moment after did those of Putnam and his assailant,
the four combatants seeming, as the sun
glanced upon the bright, flashing steel, to be wielding
swords of flame.

He who had selected Burton was a noble-looking
young soldier, with a falcon eye, and firm but
beautiful lip. He sat his spirited animal with ease
and grace, and rode like an experienced horseman.
His skill as a rider was, however, surpassed by his
mastery of the sword; and as he encountered Burton,
who was no ways his inferior in either accomplishment,
it would seem that two swordsmen were
never engaged in hostile combat more equally
matched or more skilled in the use of their weapons.

They had fought for several minutes without
either gaining the advantage, when Sir Henry
Clinton and staff, followed by a squadron of horse,
came spurring over the adjacent hill, and were

[figure description] Page 159.[end figure description]

passing onward: but suddenly an orderly sergeant
separated from the body and galloped towards the
combatants. When he came within hailing distance,
he shouted,

“General Clinton desires that Major Andre will
join him without delay.”

“We will meet another time, fair sir,” said the
young officer, receiving his antagonist's sword on
the guard of his own.

“May it be as friends rather than enemies, sir,”
answered Burton, chivalrously dropping the point
of his weapon and reining back.

“Amen!” was the reply; and the gallant young
Englishman, waving the sword so lately aimed at
his life in a parting salute to his foe, cantered over
the field to join the staff of his general.

Meanwhile General Putnam and his antagonist,
though less equally matched, fought with equal
energy. At length, already wearied with his previous
encounters, the former was nearly ready to
give way, when Zacharie lifted a four-pound shot
from the ground and cast it with all his force against
the breast of the English officer. His sword dropped
from his hand, and he only saved himself from
falling by grasping his horse's mane; then burying
his spurs into his flanks, he had sufficient strength
to guide him over the battle-field in the direction of
his party, towards which the animal carried him at
the top of his speed.

“Thou wouldst make a good piece of artillery,
lad,” said Putnam, with a smile, “only mount thee
upon wheels. Thy hand has done me good service.”

“Thank the British. 'Twas one of his own marbles
I snapped at him.”

“Well, major,” said Putnam, as Burton came
up, “we are masters of the lists. I did only gallop
to the opposite hill to reconnoitre, leaving my

[figure description] Page 160.[end figure description]

staff on the edge of yonder wood, when I was here
set upon. I would rather wrestle with a score of
wolves than one such Hessian as you have just
quieted. Your presence was well timed. See!
Yonder squadron of horse is at some mischief;
oblige me by following them, and report what you
may discover.”

He then galloped back to regain his staff, while
Burton, followed by the victorious Zacharie, rode
off after the troop which the British officers had
joined. It had just entered the forest at the foot
of the heights, and its last file was trotting out of
sight when he started. He dashed forward over
a pathway strewn with dead bodies, firearms, cannon
balls, and dismounted artillery, and in a few
minutes gained the wood. He then drew rein to
advance more cautiously for fear of surprise, but
was proceeding, nevertheless, at a good pace along
the forest track, when, as he was about to ford a
brook that gurgled across his path, he descried two
men a few yards higher up the stream. One was
a private, the other a single horseman, dismounted
and watering his horse. His head was uncovered,
and he was wiping the perspiration from his brow,
while the chest and limbs of the animal were spotted
with foam.

A single glance was sufficient: it was Arden!
Burton threw himself from his horse, leaving the
rein in Zacharie's hand, and advanced upon him.
Midway between them the rivulet made a circular
sweep, leaving a small level space between its
banks and an overhanging rock. Two or three
large trees grew on the spot, interlocking their
branches above, and the sward was short and
verdant. It was such a place as two knights of
the duello would select to tilt in mortal combat.
Arden discovered Burton at the same instant that

[figure description] Page 161.[end figure description]

he himself was recognised by him. A proud smile
only was visible on his lips. He advanced when
he saw him dismount, and they met on the spot described
with haughty tread and flashing eyes.

“Colonel Arden, I have sought you,” fiercely
cried Burton, drawing his sword.

“And you have found me, Major Burton,” quietly
replied Arden, also unsheathing his blade.

The next moment steel rung against steel, and
the two rivals warmly engaged. One was cool and
quiet, and stood only on the defensive; the other
was fiery, and vengeful, and exerted all his skill to
disarm or transfix his antagonist. Every thrust of
his sword was aimed at Arden's bosom; ruse, feint,
and sleight, and every known trick of fence were
in vain employed as instruments of his revenge.
Every fatally-directed pass was turned aside by
science equal to that which directed it; and ruse
and stratagem were met by a ready hand and a cool
head.

Zacharie in the mean while had secured the
horses to a sapling, and came up to be a spectator
or aider, as the case might be, of the combat.
The companion or follower of Arden, however, continued
to remain in the back ground. The sharp
eye of Zacharie detected him cautiously peeping
over the horse's back and gazing at the combatants.

“Now will I have a by-play of my own,” said
he, crossing the area and advancing towards him;
“like master like man. Come, sir,” he cried, as
he came up, “suppose we take a bout together,
just to keep our hands in; 'twill take the rust off
our blades, and stir up the blood.”

“Nay, most valiant Zacharie, my blade is quite
bright, and what pint or two of blood I have left
from these bloody wars needeth not stirring,” said
the voice of Jacques Cloots, his round face

[figure description] Page 162.[end figure description]

appearing at the same time over the saddle like the full
moon newly risen.

“Art thou there, man of wax? I thought thy
soul had been frightened out o' thy bones at Kip's
Bay by the dragoons I quartered on thee.”

“By my beard, Zach—” stoutly commenced
Jacques.

“Zach me no Zach!” cried Zacharie, sharply.

“No, valiant Zacharie, I will not. Not I! Art
not my old comrade and countryman? Not I, by
my beard!”

“Tell thy tale, then. Where hast thou been?”

“I was taken prisoner, most valiant! by thy
dragoons, after giving and receiving divers grievous
wounds on hip and thigh, and was despoiled
of my steed. When they found I was a true man
and not one o' the enemy, they let me go.”

“How found your ass-ship the way here to-day?”

“I then went back to my company to keep from
being shot for deserting; and when they came over
the water to do battle, I came too. I was drinking
here when you great warrior fighting there bid me
hold his horse.”

“And where is thy company?”

“By my beard! I am the only one left alive,”
replied Jacques, swaggering.

“Because thou art the only one who ran away.
Now, as thou art in thyself, by thine own tale, a
whole company, thou wilt not fear a single man.
So, draw!”

“Oh, no, valiant—”

“Draw.”

“Oh, no—”

“Draw.”

“Oh!”

“Then take a pummelling. 'Twill be glory
enough for me to have whipped a whole company.”

[figure description] Page 163.[end figure description]

Thus speaking, Zacharie set upon Arden's esquire
with his fists, and left him bruised “hip and
thigh,” and groaning with the multitude and vastness
of his wounds.

While this by-play was going on, the contest between
Arden and Burton continued with vigour,
characterized still by the coolness of the one and the
warmth of the other. At length, by a sudden and
skilful pass, by which he laid himself open to his
antagonist's point, Arden struck his sword and sent
it whirling through the air. For an instant he continued
to hold his arm in the attitude in which the
movement had thrown it, and followed it with his
eye. That unguarded moment was nearly fatal to
him. Burton closed with him, caught his uplifted
arm, and wrenched his sword from his grasp; then
shortening it by the blade till he could make use of
it like a dagger, he drove it with violence against
his breast. The blow was turned aside by Arden,
and the steel passed through the fleshy part of his
arm; again it was raised, and descended like lightning;
it was a second time averted from the seat
of life, but sunk deep into his shoulder. As the
warm blood stained Burton's hand, he relinquished
his hostile embrace. The clattering of hoofs and
ringing of sabres being now heard in a distant part
of the forest, he took up his sword, hastily remounted
his horse, and, followed by Zacharie,
spurred off in the direction he was originally pursuing
when he fell in with his rival.

He had but a few moments disappeared when
General Putnam and several officers came up at
the head of a regiment moving at double quick
time, on their way to the heights to support Sullivan
in his retreat.

“Ha!” he exclaimed, seeing Arden leaning
against a tree; “Colonel Arden wounded?”

[figure description] Page 164.[end figure description]

“Slightly,” he replied.

“You have been hard set upon. Some Hessian,
I dare say! You must be looked after. Carmichael,
do see if he is badly hurt.”

The surgeon examined and dressed his wounds,
and pronounced them not dangerous if the patient
were prudent. He was then assisted to his horse,
and conducted under a small escort to the intrenchments.

As General Putnam now skirted the heights with
the small force he had been able to keep together in
the general panic, a party of officers, among whom
he distinguished General Washington, rode towards
him from East River, the whole cavalcade at the top
of their speed. They drew up as they met the division.

“A total rout, Putnam?” inquired Washington,
with anxiety.

“Total, sir; and not less than a thousand killed
in the retreat. Yonder goes, except this, the last
regiment, or what remains of it, into camp. If you
choose not capture, sir, ride no farther in this direction,”
he added, as Washington, who crossed over
from New-York as the fight became warmer, prepared
to move forward.

“Unfortunate day!” exclaimed he, with anguish,
looking upon the destruction of his best troops in
the plain below, without the power to aid them.
“Putnam, we must do all we can to save the remnant
of the army. The enemy will no doubt follow
up his success by storming the intrenchments. Oh
God, what slaughter at the foot of yonder hill!”

“Cannot something be done by a bold stroke
with the troops from the city?” inquired General
Putnam, with animation.

“And leave New-York defenceless, a prize to
the British fleet, which hovers in the bay like a
hawk over its victim.”

[figure description] Page 165.[end figure description]

“There are yet a few regiments of fresh troops
within the lines,” said an officer who rode by
Washington's side; “they possibly may retrieve
the day.”

“True, Livingston. But I dare not draw out
a single company remaining in the intrenchments
to aid our broken division: if they also should be
defeated, the whole camp would be lost and the
army totally destroyed. With every soldier both
in New-York and the lines at Brooklyn, I should
still be inferior in numbers to the enemy; and the
whole country might be staked in thus endeavouring
to regain a lost battle. Painful!” he added,
turning his eyes away from several retreating detachments
of the broken army; some at bay, fighting
desperately with the enemy's infantry; others
flying, pursued and cut down by the British and
Hessian horse. “Dreadful to behold such carnage,
without the power to aid the brave fellows
who fight so well. Putnam, help Sullivan, if possible.
I will to the intrenchments, and make an
effort to preserve the camp and those who escape
the slaughter.”

Washington, leaving General Putnam to ride
after his regiment, galloped down the hill, followed
by his staff, and pursued his way over the ground
towards the lines.

“We must ride for it, sir,” said Livingston, as
they turned an angle of the wood. “See, the whole
British army is down upon us.”

“And threaten to storm the works. They show
a bold front. Our time is brief! Ride!”

The British, who at first had charged tumultuously
and in parties, formed as they approached
the American intrenchments, and, as General Livingston
spoke, appeared marching in close order
over the field, but at a quick pace and with loud

p157-441 [figure description] Page 166.[end figure description]

shouts, as if they intended to carry the American
works. Pressing forward as they descried this
movement, Washington and his party a few minutes
afterward entered the lines.

The British general, however, unwilling to hazard
too much, and, perhaps, satisfied with the success
of the day, seeing that the Americans were
secure within their defences, and being ignorant
of the strength of the works and number of the
garrison, restrained the ardour of his troops, and
pitched his camp in front of their intrenchments.