The Boys of Old Monmouth Part 29

Nevertheless, he put the spurs to his horse, and in a few minutes discovered two or three other men, who apparently were in as great haste to depart as the fifer had been.

Instantly the trembling men halted at his sharp command, and again the excited general demanded an explanation of their actions.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE BATTLE OF MONMOUTH

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

This second report, however, caused Washington to send forward two of his trusty officers, whom he ordered to ride swiftly in the direction of the Court House, and, after they should have discovered the true condition 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 disorderly retreat. A little farther on another regiment was discovered, and soon still another appeared in sight.

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

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

Still hoping against hope, the two aids pressed forward and soon met General Lee himself. His face at all times was decidedly plain, and indeed, as we know, he had the reputation of having the "ugliest face in America;" but at this time a scowl rested upon it which doubtless did not tend to increase his beauty, and he sullenly refused to reply to the questions of the men.

The two officers did not long delay to talk to him, but still urged their horses swiftly forward, although the straggling, disorderly troops now almost filled the road, and their worst fears were confirmed each moment.

At last, in the post of danger and nearest to the pursuing British, the two officers discovered General Wayne and his men. "Mad Anthony" was certainly "mad" at that time, and while he a.s.sured the aids that the retreat was genuine and general, at the same time he declared that it was absolutely needless. He also declared that "Lee had drawn off his best men at the very time when he was facing a body of British far superior to himself in numbers, but that even then the redcoats could be beaten if a stand were made against them."

There was no time for an extended conversation, but, doubtless, the two officers understood what the exceedingly vigorous language of Mad Anthony Wayne was intended to convey, and after receiving the suggestions he sent by them to General Washington, and a.s.sured now that they had discovered the worst, they put spurs to their horses and rode swiftly back to give the information they had received to the great commander.

Meanwhile, General Washington himself had not been idle, we may be well a.s.sured. Riding swiftly forward, he met band after band of the retreating, disorderly Continentals, and heard many expressions of anger and disgust, very like to that which had already greeted the two officers he had sent forward.

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

It was just at this moment that General Lee himself rode up, and the scene which followed was one which those who witnessed it never forgot.

There is no more sublime sight in all this world than the towering pa.s.sion of a great man. Not pettiness, not irritability, but the just and righteous anger of a n.o.ble, large-hearted man in the presence of wickedness.

General Washington probably never before in all his life had been so angry as he was at that time. Thoughts of the cause of the country he loved, the lives of thousands of brave and devoted patriots, the sight of angry, desperate men all about him, the disappointment at the loss of what he had confidently counted upon, the loss also of that for which so many n.o.ble men had been sacrificing and toiling through many weary days and on their long marches, rushed upon him like a flood. And before him stood the guilty man who alone was to be blamed for it all. Small wonder is it that Washington was almost beside himself with rage and sorrow.

The name of Benedict Arnold is one that is hated to-day by every American schoolboy, for, after all, most boys can be trusted to hate evil in whatever form it presents itself. But the treachery of Benedict Arnold 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 one time had fought with a bravery none can ever forget. But the memory of Charles Lee has not even that redeeming quality, for his actions on the field of Monmouth can only be explained on the ground of treachery or cowardice, and a coward is not very greatly to be preferred to a traitor. If both Lee and Arnold had fallen in battle, how much better it would have been for them and their friends, for "a good name is to be preferred above great riches," and they left neither. Perhaps the strange desire which Lee later expressed in his will, that his "body should not be interred in any church or churchyard, or within a mile of any Presbyterian or Baptist church," was not entirely out of keeping with the man himself.

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

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

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

Again the enraged commander demanded the meaning of the retreat, and Lee attempted to explain. His orders, he said, had been misunderstood, his officers had not obeyed his commands, he had not thought it wise to attempt to make a stand against the British with his detachment; but the angry Washington would not stay to listen to the lame attempts at explanation, and muttering something about a "poltroon," he hastened back to the high ground between the meeting-house and the bridge, where he quickly formed the regiments which were waiting there.

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

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

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

Meanwhile, the British general Clinton had also been busy. He had ordered back many of the troops which the Hessian general Knyphausen commanded, and was making vigorous attempts to compel the Americans to keep 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 British grenadiers climbed over the fence which crossed the lot in front of Wayne, but were quickly driven back by the angry Continentals.

Again the determined British advanced, and again were driven back. Then their brave leader, Colonel Monckton, placing himself at their head, and calling upon his men to follow him, led the charge. But Mad Anthony and his men were waiting for them, and under their terrible fire the brave colonel and many of his men went down as the gra.s.s falls before the scythe of the mower. Desperate was the struggle then for the body of the fallen leader. Hand to hand, clubbing their muskets, using their bayonets any way, every way, the men fought on; but the band of st.u.r.dy Americans held both the body and the place, and as the British fell back it was not to attack Mad Anthony's men again during that day.

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

Then they turned toward the American right; but that st.u.r.dy blacksmith from Rhode Island, Nathanael Greene, was there, and no better success crowned their desperate and determined efforts. And Mad Anthony and his men had rushed to the a.s.sistance of their comrades. When his men perceived the nature of the work which was expected of them, they prepared for the action after their own peculiar manner. As we already know, many of them had cast aside their coats when they entered the battle, but now some of them stopped and deliberately rolled up their shirt sleeves. A shout greeted the men, when their action was perceived, and in a moment their companions had followed their example. Then, with cheers and calls, the unsoldierly appearing soldiers rushed into the fray, and so vigorous was their work that soon the redcoats were compelled to retreat behind the defile, where the first stand had been made 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 pa.s.s, through which the Americans must go if they continued the attack.

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

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

Guards were established, and then the entire army prepared for the night. The exhausted men threw themselves upon the ground, many of them lying at full length with their arms spread wide and their faces resting directly upon the sand. Seldom have men been more completely worn out than were those hardy soldiers on that day of the battle of Monmouth.

Many had fallen, and when their friends examined their bodies for the marks 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 hung in the heavens like a great red ball of fire. Steadily the heat had risen higher and higher, until it had arrived at a point which even the "oldest inhabitants" could not exaggerate in their stories. The tongues of some of the men had swelled so that speech became impossible. The poor Hessians, condemned to wear their heavy fur hats, left many a lifeless body behind them which the heat had conquered before the desperate 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 the living men apparently retain.

Great was the astonishment in the American camp when the first faint streaks of the dawn appeared on the following morning, and it was discovered that not a soldier remained in the British camp. Sir Henry Clinton had permitted his weary men to rest until ten o'clock, and then, in silence, preparations were made to join the forces of General Knyphausen, who, meanwhile, had marched on and gone into camp at Nut Swamp, near the Heights of Middletown.

The British soldiers hastily had collected their wounded, leaving only forty of the poor fellows behind them, and then under the light of the moon began their march to the position which Knyphausen was holding. So wearied were the American soldiers, so heavy was their slumber, and so silent were all the movements of Clinton's men, that their departure was not discovered before the morning came, and by that time the redcoats were with the Hessians and safe from all danger of an attack.

General Washington considered a further pursuit as "impracticable and fruitless," and greatly to the chagrin of his army no attempt was made to push forward. The great battle of Monmouth had been fought. The soldiers hastily prepared to bury their dead, and so hurried were their movements that one man afterwards declared he had seen the bodies of thirteen men cast into one shallow pit which had been dug in the sand.

Yet the Continentals were neither brutal nor indifferent. A British army was 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 and certain other of our acquaintances had taken in the struggle, we must reserve for another chapter.

CHAPTER XXVII

THE RETURN TO BENZEOR'S HOUSE

THERE were several motives in the mind of Little Peter which made him eager to overtake Ted and the fat and kicking Jeshurun, not the least of which was the sense of protection he felt in the presence of the powerful man. Boyish as Ted was in many ways, his great size and wonderful physical strength made him a companion to be desired in the midst of such dangers as the troubled lad was compelled to face in those sad times in Old Monmouth.