A SOLDIER WOMAN
"WHY, Molly, you aren't going to keep us out here in the rain, are you?"
Tom looked up in surprise as he heard the young lieutenant's words; and
while his fears were somewhat relieved by the assurance that his
companion evidently had recognized the peculiar being before them, his
confusion was not diminished by the reply which the strangely clad woman
quickly made.
"Sure, and it's me bye! It's me beautiful bye! Come in, me darlint! What
for should ye be standin' out there in the storm?"
The two dripping young soldiers speedily accepted the invitation, and
entered the barn, leading their horses with them. To their surprise they
now discovered that several men were also in the building, and that
other horses were stalled in the barn.
The appearance of Tom's horse was greeted by a shout of delight, and the
person whom Lieutenant Gordon had addressed as "Molly" approached, and,
after critically examining the poor beast for a moment, said:--
"And where in the world did ye be after findin' that? It's a pity, it is
indade, to be after compellin' such poor bastes as that to be fightin'
the Dootch butchers! Sure, and it's the surgeon the poor thing is after
needin'."
Molly's hair was of a bright red color, her face was covered with
freckles, which were like great blotches upon the skin, and her eyes
were so faded as to be almost colorless; but her expression was so
evidently one of good nature that Tom was compelled to join in the laugh
which her words raised among the half dozen men who quickly assembled to
pass judgment upon the steed which had been led into the barn.
"Oh, that's something we bought back here to carry my friend as far as
the army."
"It's lucky, it is, that ye haven't very far to go, thin," laughed
Molly.
"Perhaps you're right, Molly," replied the lieutenant. "How far back is
the army now?"
"About a mile, I'm thinkin'."
"What? What's that you say? Only a mile from here?"
"That's what I'm tellin' yez. The army's been marchin' in the night; but
this rain will be after compellin' it to halt right in--in Gooseberry,
as I'm told they call it."
"Cranberry," laughed the lieutenant.
"Cranberry or Gooseberry is all one and the same thing to me. Now, me
bye, ye'll be after wantin' some breakfast, I'm thinkin'. Jest say the
word and I'll be fixin' ye out, and have a bit left over for yer poor
baste, which doesn't look as if he'd been livin' any too high of late."
"No, no, Molly," protested the lieutenant quickly, and, as Tom thought,
with an eagerness he could not understand. "We're not hungry, for we had
some breakfast before we started this morning. We did indeed," he added,
as he noted the woman's apparent unbelief. "We're not hungry, but it's
kind of you to think of us, and we thank you just the same as if you had
fed us."
In the course of the conversation between the young lieutenant and the
men in the barn, Tom learned that the main body of the army was now less
than a mile away. The little band had been one of the advance parties,
and the storm had compelled them to seek the shelter of the barn by the
roadside.
Meanwhile, the rain continued to fall, and long after the thunder ceased
the storm showed no signs of abating. The water almost covered the road
and penetrated the roof of the barn, which was far from being in a good
state of repair. The heavy downpour, however, did not seem to cool the
air, and the men and horses were in a sad plight. Just why they should
have sought the shelter, which virtually was no shelter at all, Tom
could not understand; but he asked no questions, and busied himself in
listening to the conversation of the men, and watching the intrepid
Molly, who to all appearances was not aware of the fact that she was not
as much of a true soldier as any of the men.
After a half hour had passed the lieutenant approached the boy, who was
standing before the open door, looking out upon the storm.
"Who is she? What is she?" inquired Tom, indicating by a glance of his
eyes the strange woman whom his friend had addressed as "Molly."
"She? Oh, she's the wife of one of the cannoneers. She's been in the
army for a long time. She's from New Jersey, too, I understand, though
her husband's home is in Pennsylvania."
"I didn't know there were women in the army."
"Oh yes, there have always been some. Why, even on that expedition of
Arnold's to Quebec there were several women who marched all the way with
their husbands, and they say they stood the long tramps and the cold
better than a good many of the men did."
"Why did you call this woman 'Molly'? Is that her name?"
"Oh, in the army, or at least in this army, the women have been the ones
to bring us water on the warm days, and so we call each one Molly
'Pitcher.' They've been kept busy during this hot spell, too. This
woman's name I believe is really Molly, though,--Molly McCauley. Then
you didn't expect to see women with their husbands in the army?" laughed
the lieutenant, as he noticed that Tom was regarding Mistress McCauley
curiously.
"No, I didn't. I don't think I like it."
"You'll find all sorts and kinds of people in the ranks. Some of the
women have been worth more than the men. There was one up at Fort
Clinton. She was very much such a looking woman as Captain Molly here,
only she was a good deal more careless. They used to call her 'Dirty
Kate,' because she wasn't always very neat in her personal appearance.
But she was brave as a lion, and such a fighter! Why, she fired the last
cannon at the British, as they came scrambling over the ramparts, which
happened to be about the same time our men were leaving. Well, Kate's
husband was a cannoneer, just as Molly's here is, and he was holding the
match in his hand ready to fire the gun when he saw the redcoats coming,
and the sight suddenly reminded him that he had some work to do outside
the fort which demanded his immediate attention. Well, Kate just picked
up the match her husband had dropped, touched off the cannon, and then
scampered away after the men. She was a brave woman, and so is Captain
Molly, here. She'd do as well as Kate did, if she had the chance, and
perhaps she will before the end comes. I shouldn't want to have her
fight me, I can tell you!"[2]
Tom turned and looked again at the woman. She stood talking with her
husband now, and her strange garb served to intensify her peculiarities.
Her great size and evident strength were plainly to be seen, but her
face beamed with good nature, and her enjoyment of the life she was
living was indicated by her every word and action.
Tom thought of Sarah, and the contrast between her gentleness and the
rough appearance and masculine manners of Captain Molly aroused within
him a feeling which was not altogether in favor of the soldier woman. It
is true that the name of Sarah is unknown to-day, while that of Captain
Molly Pitcher is recorded in all our school histories; but, after all,
notoriety may not be the most valuable quality in life, and while the
names of many men and women who lived quiet, faithful, honest lives may
have been forgotten by their descendants, they may not have been of the
less value to the world because of that fact. A good name is sometimes
better than a notorious one, and an honest man, though he may be soon
forgotten, may be greater than a dishonest man whose name is frequently
mentioned. Few of us would desire to be like Benedict Arnold, although
his name is a very familiar one to all.
"I don't see any use in staying here," said Tom at last. "It's wet
inside the barn, and it can't be much worse outside. Why don't we start
on?"
Now that he was so near to the American army, the lad was eager to go
forward. All his dreams and visions of the forces which were fighting
against the redcoats came back to him, and his impatience to proceed
increased each moment. Perhaps the sight and presence of Captain Molly,
as well as the account the young lieutenant had given of her, had
created a still greater desire in Tom's heart to quit the place; but, be
that as it may, he was ready to go, and apparently his companion shared
in his feeling.
"If you think your horse will stand up for a mile, we might do as you
say," replied the lieutenant. "I think we'll be going on," he added,
turning to the men as he spoke. "I've some important information to give
the general, and as I don't see any signs of the rain stopping, I think
we ought not to delay longer. We can't be much worse off than we are
now."
"Sure, and ye'll not be after goin' out in such a storm as this!"
protested Molly. "It would be a shame to take that poor baste out into
the rain now. He has all he can do to stand up in the barn, to say
nothin' of havin' to be carryin' a load. It's the last drop that'll be
after breakin' of his back, yez know."
The men all laughed at the woman's words, but the lieutenant was not to
be deterred, and accordingly the horses were brought forth and the two
men speedily mounted. Tom's horse was limping painfully when he started,
and as the lad glanced backward he could see Captain Molly standing in
the doorway, her hands resting upon her hips, and her broad, freckled
face beaming with delight over the sorry spectacle he was well aware
that he presented.
A feeling of disgust arose in his heart as he watched her. Surely she
must be lacking in all the qualities which he had most honored in the
women he knew. Coarseness was in place of delicacy, boldness instead of
modesty, and her entire bearing was such that Tom never afterwards could
hear her name mentioned without expressing his disgust. Not even the
bravery of the deed which Captain Molly Pitcher did not many hours after
this time, and which Tom Coward himself witnessed, entirely banished the
prejudice which he entertained against the coarse, good-natured, manly,
unwomanly woman.
The storm had ceased when, after a short ride, Tom and his companion
first came within sight of the American army. All the long pent-up hopes
of the lad were now about to be fulfilled, and for the first time in his
life he was to look upon the men whose names and deeds had long been
familiar to him. His eagerness brought a smile to his companion's face,
but while he watched the lad he did not speak.
Molly Pitcher had spoken truly, and the American army had halted after a
brief march from Kingston in the preceding night, and now were compelled
to remain during the entire day in Cranberry. Only the advance corps had
moved forward, and at that time were holding a position on the road to
Monmouth Court House and within five miles of the rear of the British.
In spite of his own excitement, and that which was apparent among the
men in the camp when Tom and the lieutenant entered, the lad's first
feeling was one of keen disappointment. Were these the men of whom he
had heard so much and from whom so much was expected? Mud-stained, worn
by their recent exertions, plainly showing the effects of the intense
heat, many of them without uniforms, some hatless and coatless, to the
vision of Tom Coward they presented far more the appearance of a mob
than of the orderly and well-trained soldiers he had expected to see.
The young lieutenant had left him as soon as they entered the camp,
leading the two horses away with him,--a fact over which Tom did not
long lament, we may be sure. An hour passed before the young officer
returned, for he was to make a report of all that he had learned, and
Tom's hopes were not strengthened as he watched the men about him during
his companion's absence.
Lieutenant Gordon noticed the expression upon Tom's face when he
rejoined him, but, attributing it to the fear which he supposed the lad
felt, he did not refer to it, and in the labors which soon followed no
opportunity to explain was given by either.
General Dickinson, with the New Jersey militia, was not with the main
body, as we already know, and Tom found that he could not be assigned to
them. Through the lieutenant's influence, he was to be retained with the
main body, and to assist in serving as a guide for the army, an office
which Tom was well fitted to hold, although it was not just in accord
with the plans he had formed in his own mind.
Reports came into the camp during the day which clearly indicated that
the advance corps was too far away to be properly supported at once in
the present condition of the roads. But on Saturday morning Lafayette,
with his troops, was ordered to file off by his left towards
Englishtown, and in the same day the main body, under General
Washington, marched out from Cranberry and encamped within three miles
of the place.
This brought the two opposing armies now within eight miles of each
other, while General Lee's forces, five thousand strong, without
Morgan's dragoons or the New Jersey militia, were three miles nearer the
British.
Such was the condition of affairs on that night of Saturday, June 27
(1778), and Tom Coward, as well as many of the men in Washington's army,
slept but little, with the knowledge that on the morrow the long delayed
battle would doubtless be begun.
FOOTNOTE:
[2] In many of our histories the "Captain Molly" of Monmouth has been
confounded with "Dirty Kate" of Fort Clinton. They were, however, two
women,--not one. Lossing, in the first edition of his _Field Book of the
American Revolution_, referred to them as if they were identical, but
the correction was to have been made for his second edition, and was in
type, but through an oversight was omitted.