There was indeed reason for this considerate postscript. The mutinous spirit which had been evoked by sheer starvation, had been misinterpreted by the British officers in New York; and General Knyphausen must have been very proud of an opportunity to distinguish himself, in the absence of General Clinton, when he conceived of the poor American soldier as an unfortunate hireling waiting for a deliverer. He would become their Moses and conduct them back to the royal father’s embrace. He organized his missionary venture carefully. Accompanied by Generals Tryon, Matthews, and Sterling, he crossed from Staten Island to Elizabethtown Point. (See map.) He had a twofold plan in mind. He would demonstrate to the people of New Jersey that their half-frozen, hungry, and ragged countrymen with Washington, could not protect their homes from hostile incursions out from New York; and also supposed, in case he were very prompt and expeditious, that he might pounce, like a hawk, upon the coop of the arch-rebel himself. General Sterling led the advance, starting before daybreak. The column was hardly distinguishable, company from company, so heavy were the sea-mist and darkness. Suddenly, one shot, and then another, came from an invisible American outpost. General Sterling received the first, which ultimately proved fatal, and was removed to the rear. Knyphausen took his place at the front. The rising sun dispelled the fog, but disclosed the assembling of Colonel Elias Dayton’s Regiment, from various quarters. The anticipated surprise, and a corresponding welcome from the American soldiers, did not occur. The militia retired after a few scattering shots, and Simcoe’s Queen’s Rangers dashed forward, followed by the British and Hessian Infantry. As by magic, the militia multiplied. Fences, thickets, orchards, and single trees were made available for as many single riflemen; and at every step of advance, one and then another of his majesty’s troops were picked off. During the march to Connecticut Farms, a distance of only seven miles, no friendly tokens of welcome appeared in sight. Puffs of smoke, and the rifle’s sharp crack, could hardly be located before similar warnings succeeded, and details to take care of the wounded soon began to thin out and sag the beautiful lines of the British front. Still, the column advanced toward Springfield, and directly on the line of travel which led immediately to Washington’s encampment.