THE BEGINNING OF THE GREAT FIGHT
THE morning of Sunday, June 28, 1778, dawned clear and warm. Not a cloud
could be seen in the sky, and the air was motionless, save in occasional
places where it quivered under the burning heat of the summer sun. By
eight o'clock the thermometer already had indicated ninety-six degrees,
and before the day was done it had risen considerably above a hundred.
The British forces had now arrived within ten or twelve miles of the
Heights of Middletown, and if once they should succeed in gaining that
position, all attempts on the part of the Americans to attack them would
be worse than useless, for it was now as well known by Washington as it
was by Clinton that British vessels were lying at anchor off Sandy Hook,
ready and waiting to receive the advancing army and its stores on board,
and transport all in safety to New York.
Clinton, as we already know, still believed that the Americans were
seeking only to capture his stores and train of baggage wagons, and,
therefore, wisely had placed them in the care of General Knyphausen and
the Hessian soldiers, in advance of the place of danger, as he supposed,
and also of the place where the brave leader himself took his stand with
his men. All of the British grenadiers, light infantry, and chasseurs of
the line were encamped in the strong position that Clinton had selected
in the parting of the road which led from Monmouth Court House to
Middletown, the right wing extending about a mile and a half beyond the
court house itself, while the left lay stretched for three miles along
the road from Allentown. Thick woods afforded strong protection to the
flanks, while a swamp extended toward the rear and the left, and woods
also covered their front. The British general had chosen his place
wisely, and there he waited until that eventful Sunday morning.
General Washington was well aware of all that was going on, and had
determined to attack the British the moment they moved from the position
they then occupied. Late on Saturday night, the commander had given
orders for General Maxwell to send out parties of observation, who were
to watch the British and report instantly any signs they might discover
of an attempt to retreat during the night, and to keep up a constant
communication with himself. General orders had also been given Lee to be
prepared to attack Clinton's forces the moment they should depart from
their camping-place.
General Lee's treachery or incompetency, or both, are well known to-day,
and the only cause of surprise is that General Washington should have
given him such discretionary orders. The great commander must have been
fully aware of Lee's true feelings, for already he had suffered much
from his jealousy and his traitorous designs; but perhaps the rest of
the army did not know what Washington himself well knew, and on the eve
of battle he chose the lesser of the two evils, and thought he would
suffer less by permitting Lee to continue to act, than he would from the
misunderstanding and confusion that might arise if he dealt with the man
at that time as he justly deserved. At all events, his orders were
somewhat general, and the fact that he had not given specific commands
is all that remains to-day to be quoted in favor of the guilty Lee.
It was about five o'clock in the morning when a messenger arrived in
Washington's camp from General Dickinson--who, with the New Jersey
militia, was nearest the enemy's lines--with the information that the
front of the British line had begun its march toward the Heights of
Middletown. Instantly Washington's army was put in motion, and one of
his aids was sent in all haste to inform General Lee of the movement of
the British, and to urge him forward to attack them at once unless some
very strong obstacle should be found, and to assure him that the main
body of the American army would be rushed forward to his support.
I am very certain that if my readers could somehow have been privileged
to witness the march of Washington's soldiers, they would not have been
greatly impressed by the sight. Many of them were without uniforms, and
their flushed and streaming faces under the burning heat, while they
bore an expression of determination, after all would not have been very
prepossessing in their appearance. Numbers of the Continentals had
either cast aside their coats or rolled them up and strapped them across
their backs, so that entire ranks appeared to be marching to battle in
their shirt-sleeves. However, although their personal bearing was not
made more forceful by the absence of coats, their personal comfort was
decidedly improved; and, as we shall soon see, their work in the battle
was not hindered by their lack of bright colored uniforms.
Meanwhile, the advanced corps under General Lee had moved from
Englishtown, and was now advancing toward the British. The redcoats were
also in motion, and the left wing had marched more than a mile beyond
Monmouth Court House when it discovered that the American columns had
out-flanked it on the north. Lee's forces had marched along the main
road, successfully crossing the deep ravines and causeways. They had
halted frequently to receive reports from the scouts and the men in
advance as to the movements of the British, but these reports apparently
were somewhat contradictory and created some confusion among the
American ranks.
One of these halts had been made near the "new church," which was so
called to distinguish it from the smaller structure, which until 1752
had stood upon the same site. This "new church" was of wood, its sides
covered with shingles, and painted white. There such famous preachers as
Whitefield, the missionary Brainerd, Tennent, and others had given their
messages of peace, but it can be safely asserted that in all its long
history the "old" church or the "new" had never seen such a "service" as
that which was held there on that Sunday morning in June, 1778. Before
the day was done bullet marks and the effect of cannon shot were
apparent on its walls, and while the roof and even the steeple were said
to have been covered with people on that day, who had assembled to watch
the battle, probably no other congregation in all our land had ever been
gathered by such summons, or had taken their seats on the roof of the
building instead of in the accustomed place within the walls.
Young General Lafayette, who had command of Lee's right, soon passed the
Court House, and was advancing upon the other end of the British line on
the south at the same time when the left wing was folding about
Cornwallis on the north; and General Wayne, who was in command of the
American centre, was also pressing strongly forward. Apparently, all
things were favoring the rugged Continentals, and had it not been for
Lee's cowardice or treachery, or both, they would have won the battle
there and then, before Washington could come with the aid of his
advancing troops.
Some slight minor engagements had already occurred, though not one of
them was of much importance; but now General Wayne discovered that most
of the British forces before him had descended from the high ground they
had occupied and were advancing along the same route, over the plains of
Monmouth, which the Hessians had followed when they departed earlier in
the morning.
Instantly the impetuous Wayne sent a messenger to General Lee requesting
permission for his own "troops to be pressed on." No such permission was
given, however, until it was discovered that a band of eight or nine
hundred of the redcoats had halted, and, turning about, appeared to be
inviting an attack. General Wayne was then ordered to take about four
hundred men and advance.
Despite the smallness of the number, Wayne eagerly obeyed, when the
Queen's light dragoons were sent back by Clinton to check the movement.
So excited was the little band of Americans that they instantly formed,
and drove the horsemen back upon a body of foot soldiers who had been
sent to their aid. A much larger body of troops were soon discovered to
be moving upon General Wayne's right, but he immediately opened fire
upon them with the two pieces of artillery he possessed, sent back for
reinforcements, and gallantly prepared for the battle.
During this time General Lee apparently was trying to cut off the force
with which Wayne was engaged by making a detour and falling upon the
line of Clinton's march between the rear of the main body and that
detachment.
This action of Lee's, together with those which three of the others of
the divisions of the American forces were making at the same time, led
Clinton to suppose that his baggage train was what the Americans were
striving to gain. As we already know, this, all the time, had been his
understanding of the purpose of Washington, and now the action and
movements of the various bodies of troops strengthened his suspicion.
The first thing the British commander did was to send the Queen's light
dragoons against Wayne. Then he sent a detachment from the men in
advance to strengthen his own right, and next he arranged for the main
body, of which Lord Cornwallis was in command, to form on the plain and
prepare to attack General Lee and the various divisions which were under
him at the time.
General Wayne and his brave men were now fighting desperately, and to
all appearances success was about to crown his efforts, when he was
dumfounded by an order he received from Lee to make only a feigned
attack, and not to press too hard against the redcoats in front of him.
Wayne did not know what to make of the order. He was chagrined and angry
to receive such a word at a time when all things seemed to favor his
determined band. It is said that he made use of some very forceful
language, and even expressed his opinion of his superior officer in no
very complimentary terms; but he was too good a soldier not to obey;
and, although he could not understand what Lee meant by giving him such
directions at such a time, he held back his men, hoping all the time
that Lee himself would come up and grasp the victory which almost seemed
to be in his hand.
General Lee had been watching the movements of the British, and
perceived what Clinton was trying to do by the actions to which we
already have referred. Instead of meeting them boldly, and permitting
his soldiers, who were all now eager for the battle, to advance, he at
once prepared to withdraw them from the field.
Young Lafayette had just discovered a body of British cavalry advancing
toward Lee's right, and, quickly riding up to his commander, he begged
for permission to advance and gain their rear, and so cut them off from
the main body.
"Sir," replied Lee, "you do not know British soldiers. We cannot stand
against them. We shall certainly be driven back at first, and we must be
cautious."
"It may be so, general," said Lafayette quietly, "but British soldiers
have been beaten, and they may be again. At any rate I am disposed to
make the trial."
Reluctantly Lee yielded, so far as to permit the brave young marquis to
wheel his column by the right and make an attempt to gain the left of
the British, but at the same time he ordered three regiments to be
withdrawn from Wayne's command, thereby weakening him for reasons which
neither Wayne nor any one of his men ever understood.
General Lee then rode off to reconnoitre, as he afterwards declared, and
to his astonishment discovered another large body of British soldiers
marching back on the Middletown road toward the Court House. If there
was one thing more than another which Lee apparently disliked at that
time, it was the sight and presence of men clad in scarlet coats, and he
instantly gave orders for the several corps in his division to retreat,
or to make a "retrograde movement," as he afterwards explained it.
His friends claimed for him, and, indeed, Lee afterwards claimed for
himself, that he had only ordered the right to fall back, and had
commanded the left, under Scott and Maxwell, to advance, and his order
was misunderstood; and that when Maxwell's men perceived the retreat of
their comrades on the left, they thought all was ended and they must
save themselves. But, at all events, proof of the truthfulness of his
statement was wanting, and all his men were soon retreating toward the
"new meeting-house," on the roof and steeple of which were assembled the
people of the congregation.
Few of the men beside Lee himself knew why the retreat was made. The
soldiers were angry and were giving vent to their feelings in terms
which had not been carefully selected. General Wayne's men were the only
ones who had even fired a shot, and the anger of Wayne himself was
steadily increasing. Every soldier felt as if he were being robbed of
success, which by right belonged to him and to his country.
Between the "meeting-house" and the parsonage, General Washington, all
unaware of Lee's disgraceful actions and the retreat of the advanced
division, met a fifer, who appeared to be in great haste to leave the
region.
Reining in his horse, the great commander ordered the fleeing man to
halt, and then said sternly:--
"Who are you? Do you belong to the army? Why are you running in this
fashion?"
"I am a soldier," replied the trembling man, "but all the Continentals
are running, too."
"It isn't true! It can't be true! I'll have you whipped if you dare to
mention such a thing to another living man!" cried the astonished
commander.
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.