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

by Everett T. Tomlinson

Neither of the barges was to be seen. Doubtless, with the approach of the shower, they had both put back to the gunboats for safety. The whaleboat had weathered the storm, and the supply boat was still safely in tow.

Drenched though the men were, new strength seemed to come with the knowledge that they were no longer being pursued, and then, relieved of their fear, they continued on their way down the shore.

They frequently stopped for rest and to scan the waters behind them, but no boat could anywhere be seen. Nor was any one to be discerned upon the beach. Doubtless the men from Refugee Town had fled for safety and shelter, or, as the leader grimly said, "They were afraid of being wet, for water was something to which all the men assembled there were strongly opposed."

For mile after mile they held steadily to their course, even their excitement apparently having mostly disappeared. The supply boat contained guns and ammunition, and if there was anything of which the militia stood in need, it was of that very commodity.

At first it was thought that they would put in at the entrance to Shark River, but it was soon decided to continue on their way until they should come to Manasquan Inlet, and then go up the river to a place where some of their friends were to be found. To gain Tom's River they would be compelled to keep on to Barnegat Inlet, and then retrace their way up Barnegat Bay, to the place where the river entered; and as that would require a voyage of thirty miles more, no one regretted the change in the plan.

They were all nearly worn out by their exertions, and no one knew what British vessel might be met before they could gain the shelter of Tom's River.

Little Peter, in spite of his eagerness to go on to the place where he hoped to learn something concerning his father, was so weary from the work of the day, and as he had not tasted food since early that morning, he rejoiced with the others when at last the boats turned into Manasquan Inlet and began to make their way up the little stream.

The sun was now low in the western sky, and the night would soon be upon them. The shadows already were lengthening when the two boats passed out of the inlet into the waters of the river. The leader, however, had not yet given the word to rest on their oars, and Little Peter did not know where they were to pass the night.

The whaleboat kept steadily on in its course, and the wearied men were still pulling at the oars. The river was becoming narrower now, and more than one was hoping that the word would soon be given for them to land.

Suddenly, the leader called to his men, and, standing erect, pointed excitedly to a place on the shore not far in advance of them. His companions quickly looked in that direction and saw on the little point of land, around which the river swept in its course, two men standing in the water. But what was it they were doing? One of them was holding the other and frequently forcing his head beneath the surface of the river. He would hold him in that position for a moment and then lift him upon his feet again, and shake him, much as a dog might have done with a rabbit. Apparently neither had observed the approaching boats, nor had either uttered a sound which the men in the whaleboat could hear.