On June 24, 1778 (as predicted by the Farmer’s Almanac the prior year), the moon eclipsed the sun for the first time in almost 100 years. Witnesses to this incredible phenomenon (and possible omen) were the British and (American) rebel armies, which were moving toward a confrontation at Monmouth Courthouse in New Jersey. It would be the last major battle to take place in the North during the Revolutionary War.

Henry Clinton vs. George Washington

The British army, led by General Henry Clinton, had decamped from Philadelphia – the rebel capital, which the English soldiers had decimated – and was heading for the relative safety of New York City. George Washington’s army – which had barely survived a brutal winter at Valley Forge – was keeping close tabs on the opposing army. Washington told his officers: “If we suffer the enemy to pass through the Jerseys without attempting anything upon them, I think we shall ever regret it.” And many of his officers agreed (e.g., Nathaniel Greene advised that an engagement was necessary to “preserve our reputation”). But Washington’s second-in-command, Major General Charles Lee (a former British officer – captured and only recently released by his ex-colleagues), was vehemently opposed to engaging the enemy, telling his boss that any attack “would be to the last degree criminal.”

Notwithstanding Lee’s objection(s), Washington was determined to do something. When he decided to put almost half of his army (4,500 men) under the leadership of the Marquis de Lafayette to engage the rear flank of Clinton’s army (commanded by General Charles Cornwallis), Lee huffily changed his tune, asserting his seniority over the young French officer and claiming command of the effort (to which Washington agreed, with orders to “attack unless there should be powerful reasons to the contrary”).

In stifling heat (estimated to be greater than 96 degrees Fahrenheit), Lee attacked Cornwallis’ 1,600-man unit on June 28, 1778, near the Monmouth Courthouse. At first the attack went well, with Lee sending a report to Washington: “The rear guard of the enemy is ours.” But then Clinton counterattacked with 10,000 troops and Lee hastily ordered a retreat.

When an “exceedingly alarmed” Washington got wind of Lee’s retreat, he quickly rode to confront his subordinate. As Washington would later report to Congress: “After marching five miles, to my great surprise and mortification. I met the whole advanced corps retreating, and, as I was told, by General Lee’s orders, without having made any opposition except one fire.” Finding General Lee, Washington angrily inquired as to what had caused “this disorder and confusion.” Lee’s numerous excuses (the British were better soldiers, insubordinate officers, etc.) found no welcome from his commander: “All this may be true, sir, but you ought not to have undertaken it unless you intended to go through with it.”

Rallying the Troops

Washington quickly took command of the chaotic situation. As Lafayette would later recount: “His presence stopped the retreat. . . . [He rode] all along the lines, and the shouts of the soldiers, cheering them by his voice and example.” Ultimately bringing his remaining troops (7,000) to support the initial unit under Lee, Washington was able to repulse three British assaults on his lines; he also endured (as did the British troops) a blistering two-hour artillery back-and-forth barrage (doing so in the intense heat with little or no water). During the brutal battle (and difficult conditions), Colonels Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr both had their horses shot out from under them (and Washington’s horse collapsed from heat exhaustion).

Finally, around 5 p.m., General Clinton decided to withdraw his troops toward New York City. He later wrote to his sister: “It breaks my heart that I was obliged under those cruel [weather] circumstance[s]. . . . [A]s it is I fear [America] will be lost.” Washington contemplated a counterattack, but realized his troops were as exhausted as the British troops. By the next morning, the American army happily discovered: “the British are gone!” Washington would claim victory to Congress: “We forced the enemy from the field and encamped on their ground.” It was, in reality, more like a draw (saved by Washington’s intervention), with 362 Americans dead, wounded, or missing, and British totals numbering 411 in those same categories.

Postscripts

• ● In the most important court-martial of the war (it was asked for by General Lee to clear his name), Lee faced three counts: (i) disobeying orders; (ii) “making an unnecessary, disorderly and shameful retreat”; and (iii) showing disrespect to his commander (by way of letters written after the battle). He was found guilty on all counts, and sentenced to a one-year’s suspension of military duty. Lee’s appeal of his conviction to Congress was unsuccessful and he never saw combat again. (The cartoon posted below is a caricature by General Tadeusz Kościuszko entitled “Suspended General Lee.”)
• ● The Battle of Monmouth Courthouse spawned the legend of “Molly Pitcher” – a woman whose husband was an American soldier, wounded in action; she famously spent the better part of the battle’s afternoon supplying water to the prostrated American soldiers (while under fire herself). But there was no “Molly Pitcher,” even though stories about “her” exploits first appeared in the 1830s.
  There was, however, Mary Ludwig Hayes. Mary was the 23-year-old wife of William Hayes, a gunner in the 4th Continental Artillery. As was not uncommon for wives of soldiers, Mary was a “camp follower” in Washington’s army dating from the prior year. After Washington had stopped Lee’s retreat and turned to face the British army, Mary was with her husband as part of the American artillery firing cannonballs (and grapeshot) at their enemies. One of her duties included bringing water and ammunition to her husband and his colleagues. After William Hayes was wounded, she helped fire his cannon. One artillery man (Joseph Plumb Martin) later wrote that he saw “a cannon shot from the enemy pass . . . directly between [Mary’s] legs without doing any other damage than carrying away all the lower part of her petticoat.” Legend has it that Washington gave Mary a battlefield appointment as a “sergeant”; what is indisputable is that she ultimately received a veteran’s pension from the U.S. government.
  Martin’s 1830 memoir (which did not identify Mary Ludwig Hayes) started the legend of Molly Pitcher. There are many famous depictions of Molly Pitcher in action; probably the most iconic is the 1854 painting by Dennis Malone Carter (Molly Pitcher at the Battle of Monmouth), which can be seen at the Fraunces Tavern Museum in New York City. The U.S. government issued a Molly Pitcher 2¢ stamp in 1928; there are battlefield monuments to Molly Pitcher in Freehold, New Jersey; a Liberty Ship was commissioned in World War II as the SS Molly Pitcher (it was torpedoed in 1943); the U.S. Army base at Fort Bragg holds an annual event called Molly Pitcher Day (honoring family members); and finally, drivers on I-95 between New York and Philadelphia can make a pit-stop at the Molly Pitcher Service Area in Cranbury, New Jersey.

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Editor’s note: The author is a member of the Board of Editors of the Federal Bar Council Quarterly.