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By Root 1447 0

But Stirling was there, a strong force dug into good ground, and the British thrust at Washington’s eastern flank had dissolved as quickly as it began. This time, when Howe withdrew his men back into Brunswick, they did not stop to occupy their own carefully built defenses. As Greene eased down from the heights again, the redcoats were already marching east, this time toward Amboy. Greene had pursued them, small skirmishes, quick jabs at the British rear, but the British were in full retreat, had boarded their boats at the wharves and, just as quickly, sailed away. When Greene reached Amboy, not a shot had been fired. As Greene’s men spread along the waterfront, Howe’s baffled troops were once again pitching their tents on Staten Island.

Greene had stood with his troops, astounded that the British would expend so much energy, and waste so much time only to see their commander change his mind. Then the amazement of Greene’s men changed to celebration. It was not so much a victory as it was satisfaction, the British march across New Jersey ending where it had begun so many months before.

As he glassed the British ships now anchored close to Staten Island, Greene thought of Washington, who had accepted the blame for the defeats in New York, who shouldered the despair of the entire nation that they could not bring to the field enough strength to hold the British away. Greene would never forget that one awful day, the catastrophe at Fort Washington. The commanding general had placed no blame, but Greene knew what others had said, knew there was grumbling in congress. Nothing was ever said in headquarters, and Greene knew now that Washington was not a man to cast blame away from himself, would not allow any criticism of his commanders to be voiced in the camps.

Throughout the desperate retreat across New Jersey, Greene had realized that the men who kept to the march were held by a loyalty to Washington that had nothing to do with strategy. Greene did not know how to explain it, knew it was something in the men’s heart. He wondered if Washington himself was aware of the affection and loyalty of the men in this army. That loyalty had been tested, and might be again, but for now, they had their reward. As he stood on the shores of Amboy, he knew that for the first time in many months, not a single British soldier had his foot in New Jersey.

THE LONG ENCAMPMENT AT MORRISTOWN HAD REVITALIZED THE army. Their stunning accomplishments on the battlefield had inspired new confidence that brought in an amazing abundance of food from the farms. They were strengthened as well by the arrival of French merchant ships, bearing the fruits of the careful negotiations in Paris. Besides the much-needed supplies of cloth and gunpowder, the army was receiving troop strength as well, a sudden inflow of new volunteers to the regiments. Greene had shared Washington’s despair at the loss of so many of the veterans whose enlistments had expired, but Greene could not find fault with those men who wished to return to their homes. With the British firmly in their winter camps, the desperation had tempered, and the deluge of new recruits swelled the army to nearly eleven thousand men, many persuaded to sign eighteen-month enlistments. Though Greene had little faith in new recruits, and no faith at all in local militia, he hoped that the commanders would have the luxury of time, perhaps two months of drill and training to bring the army back to its feet. As the long weeks passed, Greene had grown nervous, knew that the recruits were still too raw, still finding their way into the soldier’s life. Washington had cautioned them to expect a new British campaign by April, but they had been granted yet another luxury, this time by their enemy. Amazingly, the British camps had remained quiet until June.

With the army safely protected by the hill country around them, many of the commanders could enjoy the refreshing company of their wives. Martha Washington had arrived in March, and the monotony of headquarters had changed into a whirlwind of gaiety. He had seen