ry anxious for our own safety,
and when the dawn appeared there were several regiments still on duty.
At this time a very dense fog began to rise, and it seemed to settle
in a peculiar manner over both encampments. I recollect this peculiar
providential occurrence perfectly well; and so very dense was the
atmosphere that I could scarcely discern a man at six yards' distance.

When the sun rose we had just received orders to leave the lines, but
before we reached the ferry, the Commander-in-Chief sent one of his
Aids to order the regiment to repair again to their former station on
the lines. Col. Chester immediately faced to the right about and
returned, where we tarried until the sun had risen, but the fog
remained as dense as ever. Finally, the second order arrived for the
regiment to retire, and we very joyfully bid those trenches a long
adieu. When we reached Brooklyn ferry, the boats had not returned
from their last trip, but they very soon appeared and took the whole
regiment over to New York; and I think I saw Gen. Washington on the
ferry stairs when I stepped into one of the last boats that received
the troops. I left my horse tied to a post at the ferry.

The troops having now all safely reached New York, and the fog
continuing as thick as ever, I began to think of my favorite horse,
and requested leave to return and bring him off. Having obtained
permission, I called for a crew of volunteers to go with me, and
guiding the boat myself, I obtained my horse and got off some distance
into the river before the enemy appeared in Brooklyn.

As soon as they reached the ferry, we were saluted merrily from their
musketry, and finally by their field pieces; but we returned in
safety. In the history of warfare, I do not recollect a more fortunate
retreat. After all, the providential appearance of the fog saved a
part of our army from being captured, and certainly myself among
others who formed the rear guard. Gen. Washington has never received
the credit which was due to him for this wise and most fortunate
measure....

As the enemy showed a disposition to cross over into Westchester, Gen.
Washington removed the main body of his army up to the White Plains,
taking possession of the high ground North and East of the town. Here
he seemed determined to take his stand, his lines extending from a
mountain on the right, called Chadderton's Hill, to a lake or large
pond of water on his left. An intrenchment was thrown up from