Washington the Soldier

by Henry B. Carrington

The truth of history requires a statement which has never been sufficiently defined, as to the antecedents of this overestimated officer, Charles Lee. As a subaltern in the British army, he had been uniformly insubordinate, and was in discredit when he was allowed to go abroad and fight under various flags as a military adventurer. He knew nothing of handling a large command, or combined commands. Before the Battle of Monmouth, if then, he had never been under fire in the lead of American troops. He was cool enough and brave enough at Monmouth, to retreat with his division; but it was saved chiefly by the self-possession of its officers, and the wonderful endurance of the rank and file. He was unequal to the command, even if he had desired battle. To have fought the battle, with any chance of being taken prisoner, would have exposed him to a double penalty for treason at the hands of General Howe. He was in the attitude of defeating his “plan” (before alluded to), and defeating the very invasion which he had so ingeniously advised.

The increasing cannonading, before noon, aroused Washington to his full fighting capacity. The return of an aid-de-camp, with the information that General Lee had “overtaken the British army and expected to cut off their rear-guard,” was regarded as an omen of complete success. The soldiers cast off every encumbrance and made a forced march. Greene took the right, and Stirling the left; while Washington in person, conducting the vanguard, moved directly to the scene of conflict.

All at once, the animation of the Commander-in-Chief lost its impulse. A mounted countryman rode by in fright, a wild fugitive. A half-distracted musician, fife in hand, cried “All’s lost!” A few paces more, and over the brow of a small rise of ground overlooking the creek and bridge, toward which scattered fragments of regiments were pressing, the bald fact needed no other appeal to the American Commander-in-Chief to assure him of the necessity for his immediate presence. Harrison and Fitzgerald, of his staff, were despatched to learn the cause of the appearances of fugitives from their respective commands. They met Major Ogden, who replied to their excited demands, with an expletive: “They are fleeing from a shadow.” Officer after officer, detachment after detachment, came over the bridge, ambiguous in replies, seemingly ignorant of the cause of retreat, only that retreat had been ordered. Neither was the movement in the nature of a panic. Hot and oppressive as was the day, there was simply confusion of all organized masses, needing but some competent will to restore them to place and duty.

Washington advanced to the bridge, and allowed neither officer nor man to pass him. In turn, he met Ramsey, Stewart, Wayne, Oswald, and Livingston. To each he gave orders, assigned them positions, and directed them to face the enemy. Leading the way, he placed Ramsey and Stewart, with two guns, in the woods to the left, with orders to stop pursuit. On the right, back of an orchard, he placed Varnum, Wayne, and Livingston; while Knox and Oswald, with four guns, were established to cover their front. When Maxwell and other generals arrived, they were sent to the rear to re-form their columns and report back to him for orders. Lafayette was intrusted with the formation of a second line until he could give the halted troops a position which they might hold until he could bring the entire army to their support.

It was such an hour as tests great captains and proves soldiers. The ordeal of Valley Forge had made soldiers. In the presence of Washington they were knit to him as by bands of steel. Company after company sprang into fresh formation as if first coming on parade.

With the last retreating detachment, Lee appeared, and to his astonished gaze, there was revealed a new formation of the very troops he had ordered to seek safety in retreat. Tn reply to his demand for the reason of this disposition of the troops, he was informed that Washington, in person, located the troops. He understood that his personal command ceased with the arrival of the Commander-in-Chief, and he reported for orders. He had no time to speak, when he met this stern peremptory demand, “What does this mean, sir? Give me instantly an explanation of this retreat!” Appalled by the wrathful manner and awfully stern presence of Washington, as with drawn sword he stood in his stirrups, towering above the abashed officer, Lee could only answer mechanically, “Sir? Sir?” The demand was repeated with an emphasis that hushed every observer. Washington’s manner, bearing and tone, are described by those who stood awe-bound by the scene, as “more than human.” It was as if Liberty herself had descended to possess the form of her champion!

All who felt his presence bent their wills as rushes yield to the tempest,—so immediate, so irresistible was his mastery of the occasion. When the half suppliant officer ventured to explain that “the contradictory reports as to the enemy’s movements brought about a confusion that he could not control,” and ventured farther to remind his Commander-in-Chief that he “was opposed to it in council, and while the enemy was so superior in cavalry we could not oppose him,” Washington, with instant self-control, replied: “You should not have undertaken it unless prepared to carry it through; and whatever your opinions, orders were to be obeyed.” Again turning to the silent officer, he asked one single question. It was this: “Will you remain here in front, and retain command while I form the army in the rear; or shall I remain?” Lee remained, until ordered to return to English Town and assist in rallying the fugitives that assembled there. It requires more time to outline the events of a few precious moments at such a crisis than the events themselves occupied. The map discloses the final position. Greene was on the right, Stirling was on the left—where an admirable position of artillery prepared him to meet the British columns. Lafayette occupied a second line, on slightly higher ground in the rear. Greene sent six guns to McComb’s Hill, where they could direct enfilading fire upon the British columns, already advancing against the position in which Washington had placed Wayne, Varnum and Livingston.

The real Battle of Monmouth had begun. The British forces were repulsed at every point. At the hedge-row, three brilliant charges were made, and Lieutenant-Colonel Monckton of the British Grenadiers was among the killed. As the day advanced, Lee reported in person, and again requested “his excellency’s pleasure,” whether to form his division “with the main body, or draw them up in the rear.” He was ordered to re-form them in the rear of English Town, three miles distant. Baron Steuben was also on duty at that point. When, about five o’clock, all cannonading ceased in the direction of the battlefield, Colonel Gimât, of Washington’s staff, arrived at English Town with an order for the advance of the troops which had been re-formed under Lee’s supervision; announcing that the British were in confusion. Colonel Gimât stated in his evidence before the court-martial which subsequently tried Lee, that when he communicated this order to that officer Lee replied, that “they were only resting themselves, and there must be some misunderstanding about your being ordered to advance with these troops”; “and it was not until General Muhlenburg halted, and the precise orders of Washington were repeated, that Lee could understand that the cessation of firing was occasioned by the retreat of Clinton, and not by the defeat of Washington.”

During the evening, the American army advanced, ready for a general attack upon the British troops, at daybreak. Washington, with a small escort, visited every picket. The position was made impregnable, and the army was in the best possible spirits for a complete victory, and expected victory.

At 10 o’clock at night, Clinton silently broke camp and departed for Middletown, where he joined Knyphausen, reaching New York on the last day of June. The British and the American casualties were each about three hundred, some of these being deaths from excessive heat. It appeared afterwards, that the desertions from the British army numbered nearly two thousand men.