“They’re still out of range,” James remarked irritably. “What are those fools doing?” Gradually the ships drew closer. The shore batteries should have been able to pound the ships now, but their aim was hopelessly misdirected. The British ships, which could have annihilated them, didn’t even trouble to return fire. Then there was a loud explosion from one of the shore batteries. “It seems,” said John Master drily, “they’ve managed to blow themselves up.” James said nothing, as the British ships sailed into the Hudson and continued northward.

It was in the quiet of the evening, as the glow of sunset spread across the harbor, that Abigail and James, who had gone down to the waterfront again, caught sight of the masts approaching from the ocean. As the minutes passed, they saw ship after ship move in from the ocean, and draw toward the Narrows. They remained there, watching, as the red sun sank, and the whole mighty fleet swept in toward the anchorage.

“Dear God,” James murmured, “there must be a hundred and fifty of them.” And in the twilight, Abigail could see that her brother’s brave face was tense.

Yet still the British waited. They waited over a month. Admiral Howe, whose fleet this was, seemed as content as his brother to take his time. Washington, meanwhile, lodging up at the commandeered mansion of the Morris family overlooking the Harlem River, supervised the defenses of the city, New Jersey and Long Island with a calm and stately dignity that was to be admired.

By the time he was done, any ships trying to go up the Hudson would have had to pass between a pair of forts with batteries—Fort Washington up on Harlem Heights and Fort Lee on the opposite New Jersey shore—plus a further string of small forts which had been constructed across the East River on Brooklyn Heights, to protect the city from an attack across Long Island.

At the start of August, a flotilla arrived bearing Clinton and Cornwallis from the south, with eight more regiments. A few days later came another twenty-two ships, with yet more regiments from Britain. On August 12, the New Yorkers were astonished to witness a third huge fleet—a hundred ships this time—sail in with the Hessian mercenaries.

The superiority of the force across the water was total. Some thirty-two thousand of Europe’s finest troops against Washington’s untrained volunteers. One thousand two hundred naval cannon, against some small shore batteries that hadn’t hit two ships directly in front of them. If Admiral Howe chose, his gunners could reduce New York City to rubble. As for the Patriot forces, James reported that some of the troops in the camp were falling sick.