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By Root 1324 0

back away from the guns, laid him in the shade of a small tree. But the fight was continuing in front of them, and the men could not wait to give her comfort. As the fire ripped the air, she knelt beside her husband, dipped water from the bucket, washed the blood from his face. She had stayed beside his lifeless body as the fight rolled very close, and Knox had appeared again, shouting warnings, foot soldiers now gathering in line, another officer, musket fire. The cannon stopped firing, the infantry too close in front of them, and the British were responding with muskets, the same muskets that had brought down her husband. But the crisis seemed to pass, and she could see the British troops drifting back through the thickets of brush, the ground in front of the battery a horror of dead and wounded. The foot soldiers were gone, pursuing the enemy, and the cannon began to fire again. She would not stay away now, ran to the gun where he had fallen, stood with the men who had cheered her. She had seen him work the cannon, knew the routine, began by lifting the powder, the heavy shot, swarming around the gun as she had seen him do so many times.

As the day grew late, the battle had shifted away from the battery, the guns growing silent. Knox had come again, had given the order to move once more. She had not escaped his eye, and she watched as the lieutenant spoke to him, saw both men looking her way. She hoped that he was telling General Knox of her husband, her loss. She began to feel afraid that he would scold her, would send her away. Instead, he rode toward her, held out his hand, and as she reached up to take it, he said, “This army shall not forget your service . . . Molly Pitcher.”

THE ARMY HAD ADVANCED WITH GOOD PRECISION, AND WASHINGTON had placed them along the most advantageous ground. Many of the officers who had retreated under Lee had quickly reorganized their men, bringing them back to the line. Washington had made good use of the men who already knew the contours of the land that lay before them.

He sent Greene to the right flank, Stirling out to the left, both men finding the ground perfect for a strong defense. Wayne had stayed near the center, Lafayette as well, and when the British came forward, their units were separated into uneven lines broken by the rugged terrain. Wave after wave approached the small brushy hills and patches of woods where Washington’s men waited. The fights that erupted were brief and decisive. In less than two hours, the British advance was collapsing along every front, brutalized as much by the heat as the men who faced them.

As the British assaults wavered, Washington responded by advancing his men, and gradually the ground around the ravines fell into American hands. The troops maneuvered with a precision that impressed every officer on the field, British and American. One man in particular observed with quiet pride, von Steuben seeing firsthand that his drills and lessons had transformed these men into an army that could stand up to any soldiers King George would send against them.

As the sun settled toward the treetops in the west, the British continued to withdraw from around the swampy ravines, pulling back across the wide fields toward Monmouth Court House. The flower of Clinton’s army had had enough.

WASHINGTON LOOKED AT HIS WATCH, AFTER FIVE O’CLOCK, thought, Daylight for two hours, enough time, certainly. He rode along the pathway through the middle ravine, saw cannon moving up across the way, Knox and his officers still maneuvering, still finding the best position to support the steady advance of the foot soldiers.

Across the ravine, the men were spread in thick uneven lines, officers screaming hoarsely, trying to gather the formations. But Washington could see only a few men standing, most simply collapsing in the grassy fields, shirtless, red-faced troops who had exhausted every bit of fire. Even the officers were dropping down, and as Washington rode closer, he saw their faces, men falling to their knees. Few had horses now, so many of the animals falling to