Boys of Old Monmouth: A Story of Washington's Campaign in New Jersey in 1778

by John Henry Goldfrap

  CHAPTER XXVI

  THE BATTLE OF MONMOUTH

  EVIDENTLY, the reply which General Washington received from the men, whowere as greatly frightened by the bearing of the commander as they hadbeen by the sight of the redcoats, did not convince him that they hadspoken truly. He had not heard any firing, except that of a few cannon aconsiderable time before this, and he could not believe that the pickedmen under Lee's command had ingloriously retreated without making evenan attempt to stand against the forces of Sir Henry Clinton.

  This second report, however, caused Washington to send forward two ofhis trusty officers, whom he ordered to ride swiftly in the direction ofthe Court House, and, after they should have discovered the truecondition of affairs, to report instantly to him.

  As the two brave men quickly obeyed and started their horses into a run,they met on the bridge the members of a regiment in a disorderlyretreat. A little farther on another regiment was discovered, and soonstill another appeared in sight.

  Colonel Ogden, who was in command of the last, in a towering passiondeclared, in reply to the question of the officers, that Lee's men wereindeed retreating and that "they were flying from a shadow."

  Still hoping that they would find that a stand had been made fartherback, the two officers pushed eagerly forward and soon met GeneralMaxwell and his men. That gallant officer was also in a state of greatanger, and not only confirmed the report that Lee was retreating, butalso added some words of his own, expressing his opinion of that officerand of the movement in words that would have caused the cheeks of thetreacherous general to tingle, if he had chanced to hear them.

  Still hoping against hope, the two aids pressed forward and soon metGeneral Lee himself. His face at all times was decidedly plain, andindeed, as we know, he had the reputation of having the "ugliest face inAmerica;" but at this time a scowl rested upon it which doubtless didnot tend to increase his beauty, and he sullenly refused to reply to thequestions of the men.

  The two officers did not long delay to talk to him, but still urgedtheir horses swiftly forward, although the straggling, disorderly troopsnow almost filled the road, and their worst fears were confirmed eachmoment.

  At last, in the post of danger and nearest to the pursuing British, thetwo officers discovered General Wayne and his men. "Mad Anthony" wascertainly "mad" at that time, and while he assured the aids that theretreat was genuine and general, at the same time he declared that itwas absolutely needless. He also declared that "Lee had drawn off hisbest men at the very time when he was facing a body of British farsuperior to himself in numbers, but that even then the redcoats could bebeaten if a stand were made against them."

  There was no time for an extended conversation, but, doubtless, the twoofficers understood what the exceedingly vigorous language of MadAnthony Wayne was intended to convey, and after receiving thesuggestions he sent by them to General Washington, and assured now thatthey had discovered the worst, they put spurs to their horses and rodeswiftly back to give the information they had received to the greatcommander.

  Meanwhile, General Washington himself had not been idle, we may be wellassured. Riding swiftly forward, he met band after band of theretreating, disorderly Continentals, and heard many expressions of angerand disgust, very like to that which had already greeted the twoofficers he had sent forward.

  At last, in the rear of the retreating column, he met General Wayne andhis angry men. Hastily summoning Mad Anthony and two or three of hisofficers, the great leader told them that he "should depend upon themthat day to give the enemy a check," and quickly directed General Wayneto form his men, and, with their two pieces of artillery, strive to stopthe progress of the redcoats.

  It was just at this moment that General Lee himself rode up, and thescene which followed was one which those who witnessed it never forgot.There is no more sublime sight in all this world than the toweringpassion of a great man. Not pettiness, not irritability, but the justand righteous anger of a noble, large-hearted man in the presence ofwickedness.

  General Washington probably never before in all his life had been soangry as he was at that time. Thoughts of the cause of the country heloved, the lives of thousands of brave and devoted patriots, the sightof angry, desperate men all about him, the disappointment at the loss ofwhat he had confidently counted upon, the loss also of that for which somany noble men had been sacrificing and toiling through many weary daysand on their long marches, rushed upon him like a flood. And before himstood the guilty man who alone was to be blamed for it all. Small wonderis it that Washington was almost beside himself with rage and sorrow.

  The name of Benedict Arnold is one that is hated to-day by everyAmerican schoolboy, for, after all, most boys can be trusted to hateevil in whatever form it presents itself. But the treachery of BenedictArnold had at least the merit of being unmasked and comparatively open,for he took his stand boldly on the side of the redcoats, whom he at onetime had fought with a bravery none can ever forget. But the memory ofCharles Lee has not even that redeeming quality, for his actions on thefield of Monmouth can only be explained on the ground of treachery orcowardice, and a coward is not very greatly to be preferred to atraitor. If both Lee and Arnold had fallen in battle, how much betterit would have been for them and their friends, for "a good name is to bepreferred above great riches," and they left neither. Perhaps thestrange desire which Lee later expressed in his will, that his "bodyshould not be interred in any church or churchyard, or within a mile ofany Presbyterian or Baptist church," was not entirely out of keepingwith the man himself.

  The conversation between Washington and Lee at the time they met on theretreat at Monmouth has been variously reported; but doubtless the factthat those who heard it were as excited as the generals themselves mayin part account for the differences in the reports which have come downto us. We may be sure the conversation was not extended to the lengthwhich some have said it was, or that it savored largely of thehigh-flown expressions which have been quoted.

  One of the men who was present is reported to have said that Washingtonin his sternest manner looked at Lee, and demanded, "What is the meaningof all this, sir?"

  Dismayed by the terrible appearance of the commander-in-chief, andmortified that he should be so addressed in the presence of hissoldiers, the crestfallen general could only stammer, "Sir? sir?"

  Again the enraged commander demanded the meaning of the retreat, and Leeattempted to explain. His orders, he said, had been misunderstood, hisofficers had not obeyed his commands, he had not thought it wise toattempt to make a stand against the British with his detachment; but theangry Washington would not stay to listen to the lame attempts atexplanation, and muttering something about a "poltroon," he hastenedback to the high ground between the meeting-house and the bridge, wherehe quickly formed the regiments which were waiting there.

  Apparently thinking better of his words, he then rode back to GeneralLee and inquired whether he still desired to retain the command on thatheight or not. "If you will," he added, "I will return to the main bodyand have it formed on the next height."

  As Lee accepted the offer, Washington said: "I expect you will takeproper means for checking the enemy."

  "Your orders shall be obeyed," replied Lee, "and I shall not be thefirst to leave the ground."

  Meanwhile, the British general Clinton had also been busy. He hadordered back many of the troops which the Hessian general Knyphausencommanded, and was making vigorous attempts to compel the Americans tokeep up the retreat, which Lee had ordered with such disastrous results.

  The forces under Mad Anthony had rallied at the call of their leader,and were bravely holding their position near the parsonage. The Britishgrenadiers climbed over the fence which crossed the lot in front ofWayne, but were quickly driven back by the angry Continentals.

  Again the determined British advanced, and again were driven back. Thentheir brave leader, Colonel Monckton, placing himself at their head, andcalling upon his men to follow him, led the charge. But Mad
Anthony andhis men were waiting for them, and under their terrible fire the bravecolonel and many of his men went down as the grass falls before thescythe of the mower. Desperate was the struggle then for the body of thefallen leader. Hand to hand, clubbing their muskets, using theirbayonets any way, every way, the men fought on; but the band of sturdyAmericans held both the body and the place, and as the British fell backit was not to attack Mad Anthony's men again during that day.

  Sir Henry Clinton then moved the main body of his troops against theleft of the Americans, where General (Lord) Stirling was in command, butthe batteries were so well handled that there also the redcoats wererepulsed.

  Then they turned toward the American right; but that sturdy blacksmithfrom Rhode Island, Nathanael Greene, was there, and no better successcrowned their desperate and determined efforts. And Mad Anthony and hismen had rushed to the assistance of their comrades. When his menperceived the nature of the work which was expected of them, theyprepared for the action after their own peculiar manner. As we alreadyknow, many of them had cast aside their coats when they entered thebattle, but now some of them stopped and deliberately rolled up theirshirt sleeves. A shout greeted the men, when their action was perceived,and in a moment their companions had followed their example. Then, withcheers and calls, the unsoldierly appearing soldiers rushed into thefray, and so vigorous was their work that soon the redcoats werecompelled to retreat behind the defile, where the first stand had beenmade in the beginning of the battle.

  There they felt secure. On either side lay heavy swamps and thick woods,while in front of them was a narrow pass, through which the Americansmust go if they continued the attack.

  And that was just what General Washington determined to do. Carefully hearranged for divisions to move upon the right and upon the left, whilethe artillery was to be brought up and pour its terrible fire directlyinto the front of the position the British had taken.

  The men responded with a will, but before the detachments could gain thedesired position the night had come, and darkness spread over the field,wrapping friend and foe alike within its folds. Although the eagerAmericans could not then advance, they resolved to pass the night in thepositions they then held, which were very near to the lines of theBritish, and renew the attack as soon as the light of the morning came.

  Guards were established, and then the entire army prepared for thenight. The exhausted men threw themselves upon the ground, many of themlying at full length with their arms spread wide and their faces restingdirectly upon the sand. Seldom have men been more completely worn outthan were those hardy soldiers on that day of the battle of Monmouth.Many had fallen, and when their friends examined their bodies for themarks of the fatal bullets not a scratch could be found.

  The beams of the summer sun had accomplished what, in many instances,the bullets of the enemy had failed to do. All day long the sun had hungin the heavens like a great red ball of fire. Steadily the heat hadrisen higher and higher, until it had arrived at a point which even the"oldest inhabitants" could not exaggerate in their stories. The tonguesof some of the men had swelled so that speech became impossible. Thepoor Hessians, condemned to wear their heavy fur hats, left many alifeless body behind them which the heat had conquered before thedesperate Americans could accomplish the same result.

  For hours that night not a sign of life appeared in the American camp.Motionless as logs the exhausted soldiers lay stretched upon the ground,and the sounds of their deep breathing were all that could be heard.They had not stopped even to bury their dead, so little life did theliving men apparently retain.

  Great was the astonishment in the American camp when the first faintstreaks of the dawn appeared on the following morning, and it wasdiscovered that not a soldier remained in the British camp. Sir HenryClinton had permitted his weary men to rest until ten o'clock, and then,in silence, preparations were made to join the forces of GeneralKnyphausen, who, meanwhile, had marched on and gone into camp at NutSwamp, near the Heights of Middletown.

  The British soldiers hastily had collected their wounded, leaving onlyforty of the poor fellows behind them, and then under the light of themoon began their march to the position which Knyphausen was holding. Sowearied were the American soldiers, so heavy was their slumber, and sosilent were all the movements of Clinton's men, that their departure wasnot discovered before the morning came, and by that time the redcoatswere with the Hessians and safe from all danger of an attack.

  General Washington considered a further pursuit as "impracticable andfruitless," and greatly to the chagrin of his army no attempt was madeto push forward. The great battle of Monmouth had been fought. Thesoldiers hastily prepared to bury their dead, and so hurried were theirmovements that one man afterwards declared he had seen the bodies ofthirteen men cast into one shallow pit which had been dug in the sand.Yet the Continentals were neither brutal nor indifferent. A British armywas near them, and desperate haste was considered necessary.

  The results of the battle, its effect upon the redcoats and buffcoats,and those who wore no coats at all, and the parts which Tom Coward andcertain other of our acquaintances had taken in the struggle, we mustreserve for another chapter.