Fortunately the victor, instead of pressing his advantage and at once assaulting the Brooklyn intrenchments, which covered the demoralized troops, waited till the next day, when he broke ground as for a regular siege, and began cannonading the American works. "By such ill-timed caution", says Lord Mahon, "arising probably from an overestimate of the insurgents' force, the English general flung away the fairest opportunity of utterly destroying or capturing the flower of the American army;" yet such was the joy of the British government over this cheap success that General Howe was knighted for a victory over inexperienced troops one fifth his own numbers. Washington, promptly profiting by the over-caution of his antagonist, strengthened his position, and conceived the masterly measures for his retreat from Long Island. Without the knowledge of Howe, availing himself of a dense fog and rain, and favored by a fair wind, he safely crossed the East River with all his troops, stores, and artillery, except a few heavy pieces which the mud prevented him from moving. The army reached New York on the morning of the 30th, Washington leaving in the last boat after having been forty-eight hours almost continuously in the saddle without once closing his eyes. "Whoever", says Botta, "will attend to all the details of this retreat will easily believe that no military operation was ever conducted by great captains with more ability and prudence, or under more unfavorable auspices." Though the British general had gained a decided success, he was as far as ever from the object of his campaign—the capture of New York. The victors and the vanquished now confronted each other from opposite sides of a stream half a mile broad, each making ready for a decisive effort. Howe possessed a large, veteran, and disciplined European army, while Washington's troops, for the most part, were a demoralized assemblage of heterogeneous organizations, not much superior to an armed mob.