t the latter was
taken sick, and General Sullivan succeeded him, and now General Putnam
was placed in command. No more men could be sent to Brooklyn Heights,
because Washington expected the British fleet would attack the city.

He received the following message from General Livingston of New Jersey:

"I saw movements of the enemy on Staten Island, and sent over a spy at
midnight, who brought back the following intelligence: Twenty thousand
men have embarked to make an attack on Long Island, and up the Hudson.
Fifteen thousand remained on Staten Island, to attack Bergen Point,
Elizabethtown Point, and Amboy." The spy heard the orders read and the
conversation of the generals. "They appear very determined," added he,
"and will put all to the sword."

Again, in expectation of an immediate attack, he addressed the army to
inspire them with determined valor, and said:

"The enemy have landed upon Long Island, and the hour is fast
approaching on which the honor and success of this army, and the safety
of our bleeding country, depend. Remember, officers and soldiers, that
you are free men, fighting for the blessings of liberty; that slavery
will be your portion, and that of your posterity, if you do not acquit
yourselves like men. It is the general's express orders that, if any
man attempt to skulk, lie down, or retreat without orders, he be
instantly shot down for an example."

Fifteen thousand British troops landed and advanced to seize the
Heights. It was on the twenty-first day of August, 1776. A terrific
battle of seven days followed, in which the slaughter and suffering were
fearful. Alternate victory and defeat were experienced by both sides.
Sometimes it was a hand-to-hand fight with bayonets. As Washington
beheld a detachment of his heroic men pierced to death by Hessian
bayonets, he wrung his hands in an agony of spirit, and exclaimed:

"O good God, what brave fellows I must this day lose!"

There were but five thousand Americans pitted in this battle against
fifteen thousand British, and yet they fought seven days.

On the twenty-eighth day of August, the British moved their line of
battle to within a mile of the Yankee breast-works on the Heights. The
capture of the Heights, with all the American soldiers, seemed
inevitable. Between them and New York was the East River, which the
enemy's fleet commanded. Before them was the foe, numbering three to
one. To human view there was no hope for the brave little ar