Enoch obeyed General Lafayette's order at the best speed of his horse, and, arriving at that point where the commander-in-chief was directing the movements of his men, the young aid, breathless and excited, repeated that which the marquis had said.

The words were hardly spoken, and Washington had had no opportunity for comment, when a horseman, riding hard, his steed covered with foam, spurred up to the group of officers, and saluting the commander, said hurriedly:

"I am sent by General Lee to say that all is well with the advance corps; success is certain."

Then, saluting, this second messenger rode away, leaving Washington and his staff gazing at each other in something very nearly approaching bewilderment.

Either Lee or Lafayette was mistaken in his estimate of the condition of affairs.

The opinion of one of these gentlemen must be correct, and the fate of the battle depended upon the decision which the commander-in-chief should arrive at concerning the reliability of the two officers.

It seemed to Enoch as if this second message deliberately gave him the lie. He felt positive General Lafayette had only the good of the American cause at heart, and because of that told him by Greene, in addition to what he had heard Dr. Griffith say, he believed Lee simply awaited an opportunity to show himself a traitor.

Washington remained silent while one might have counted twenty, and then turning to the aid nearest, said calmly:

"Tell General Greene[H] to press forward to the church, and prevent the turning of that flank of the army."

As the aid rode hurriedly away the commander directed that the left wing of the army march toward Lee's rear, in order to support the latter, and Enoch noted that as soon as the different divisions received such instructions, the men, understanding quite as well as their leaders what it meant, went forward in the best of spirits, regardless of the terrific heat which thus far had been nearly as fatal as the bullets.

Before these last orders could be fully carried out, a horseman in civilian's dress was seen making his way among the troops from the direction of the front, and did not slacken pace until he was within a dozen yards of General Washington. Then he cried excitedly:

"The advance corps is retreating in a most cowardly manner!"

"What did you say, sir?" Washington demanded, spurring his horse forward.

"I said, your excellency, that the advance corps of the army is retreating in most shameful disorder, and without cause. The formation is lost, and it is simply a rabble that is bearing down on the main army, frightened almost beyond control by their own officers rather than because of any advantage gained by the enemy!"

"Who are you, sir?"

"Dr. Thomas Henderson, of this village."

General Washington struck the spurs deep into his horse as he dashed forward, his staff following closely behind, and with them, as a matter of course, was Enoch.

The boy, who had believed when he spoke with Lafayette that the Continentals were at least holding their own, was now plunged into the deepest grief, for he fancied that the retreat once begun, meant defeat for the entire army.

The young aid was within a dozen yards of the commander-in-chief, when, on arriving at a point about halfway between the meeting-house and the morass, the head of the first retreating column was met.

"Halt your men on that eminence!" General Washington cried to the commanding officer, not slackening his pace. "Halt, I say, sir, and get them into order!"

Across the causeway to the rear of the flying column the commander dashed, and there, at the head of the second division of retreating forces, was seen General Lee.

By this time Enoch was forty or fifty yards in the rear of the staff; but he heard Washington cry in a loud, angry voice to the man who was responsible for this disgraceful flight:

"Sir, I desire to know what is the reason, and whence came this disorder and confusion?"

Enoch could not distinguish General Lee's reply; he saw from the face of the man, and understood by his gestures, that he retorted harshly, and it was evident to the boy that the commander-in-chief and the officer next him in rank indulged in angry words, after which Washington wheeled his horse into the midst of the retreating troops until he had rallied a portion of them.

Enoch pressed forward as if aware of the fact that his services were soon to be needed, and, observing him, Washington cried:

"Ride with all speed to Colonel Oswald, and order him to plant his cannon on the brow of that hill. Tell him to use his pieces with energy upon the enemy."

In an incredibly short space of time the battery was pouring forth its iron hail, and the pursuing foe was checked.

An eye-witness of the battle writes regarding the incidents immediately following the arrival of General Washington at the scene of the disorder:

"The presence of the commander-in-chief inspired the troops with such confidence and courage that within ten minutes after he appeared the retreat was suspended, and order brought out of confusion. Stewart and Ramsey formed their regiments under cover of the wood, and with Oswald, kept the enemy at bay.

"Washington rode fearlessly in the storm of missiles hurled by the British Grenadiers and artillerists; and when his army was arranged in battle order before the foe, he rode back to Lee, and, pointing to the rallied troops, said:

"'Will you, sir, command in that place?'

"'I will,' eagerly exclaimed Lee, for his treachery had utterly failed.

"'Then,' said Washington, 'I expect you to check the enemy immediately.'

"'Your command shall be obeyed,' said Lee, 'and I will not be the first to leave the field.'

"He fulfilled his promise.

"With wondrous expedition Washington now put the confused ranks of his main army in battle order. Lord Stirling commanded the left wing, posted on an eminence on the western side of the morass, while General Greene took an advantageous position on the left of Stirling. A warm cannonade had commenced between the American and British artillery on the right of Stewart and Ramsey, while the Royal Light-horse charged furiously upon the right of Lee's division. The enemy pressed so closely with an overwhelming force that the Americans were compelled to give way at that point. Then the British attacked Ramsey's regiment and Varnum's brigade, which lined the hedgerow over the morass, and there the battle raged furiously for awhile, American cannon placed in the rear of the fence doing great execution."

Enoch sat on his horse directly behind General Washington as the furious charge of the British cavalry and infantry was made, and when the Continental troops were forced to retreat across the morass, he believed once more that defeat was certain.

His courage revived, however, as he saw the men forming in line later, and noted with satisfaction that Washington's face was calm and serene when General Lee rode up to him, saying in a respectful tone:

"Sir, here are my troops. How is it your pleasure that I shall dispose of them?"

"They have borne the brunt of battle and defeat all the morning, sir, and are now entitled to a rest. Form them in order directly in the rear of Englishtown, and there await further commands."

It seemed to Enoch as if these instructions had but just been given when the battle began to rage more furiously than ever, and now it appeared as if the troops in every direction were engaged.

"The left wing of the American army was commanded by Lord Stirling, the right by General Greene, and the center by Washington. Wayne, with the advance corps, took possession of the eminence in the orchard, a few rods south of the parsonage. A park of artillery was placed in battery on Comb's Hill, beyond the marsh on his right, and commanding the height on which the British were stationed. Finding themselves opposed in front, the enemy attempted to turn the American left flank, but were repulsed. They also moved toward the American right, where they were enfiladed by a severe cannonade from the battery commanded by General Knox and planted on high ground, where General Greene was posted. Thus assailed, the enemy fell back."

During this time Enoch had been sent from one portion of the field to the other with orders, being constantly under a heavy fire, and was so deeply occupied in finding this commander or that as not to thoroughly comprehend what was going on around him.

It was as if he rode over a vast tract of country, dotted here by redcoats, and there by patriots in buff and blue, or in homespun garments, each man seemingly bent only on loading and discharging his weapon, and all the while acting in what, to a novice, was an aimless manner.

During two hours he hardly remained idle five minutes at a time, and the screaming of the leaden and iron missiles, which at the beginning of the engagement had sounded so ominously in his ears, was now almost unheeded.

During the morning the one thought ever in his mind was the possibility of treachery by General Lee; but now that officer was in the rear, having in a measure redeemed himself, Enoch felt confident, so unbounded was his belief in the commander-in-chief, that the time must come, and soon, when the tide of battle would turn in their favor.

It was terrible in the extreme to ride amid the wounded men, who implored him to give them aid, when his duty demanded that he keep on regardless of their agony. It was as if he suffered from some horrible nightmare, when his horse leaped over dead bodies who lay with upturned faces and open eyes that stared at the pitiless sun which was sending down shafts of fire upon the combatants, the dying, and the dead.

It was while the Royal Grenadiers were pressing General Wayne behind the hedgerow most hotly that Enoch was sent to that officer to ask if he needed assistance, and found him partially sheltered by a barn near the parsonage, where he was urging his men, every one of whom had proved himself a hero, to yet greater exertions.

More than once had the Grenadiers crossed the hedgerow, hoping to dislodge the force that was playing such havoc among their ranks, and the general, watching closely the movements of the British, did not so much as turn his head when Enoch made known his message.

"Tell General Washington that I shall hold my position here. Unless he has men who are not needed elsewhere, there is no necessity for him to pay any attention to what is going on at this point. I fancy we're a match for the Grenadiers!"

The young aid was so hemmed in by officers and men that for some moments he could not retrace his steps, and as if fascinated he watched that terrific struggle, which just at this time was more fierce than ever before.

While he was gazing at the apparently resistless tide of red-coated men who were pressing forward, he heard General Wayne say in a low, quick tone:

"Reserve your fire, men, until you can pick out their officers! Make every bullet count!"

These words caused Enoch to observe more particularly than he had previously done the leaders of the brave force who were advancing in the face of almost certain death, and to his surprise he recognized that officer who had subjected his comrades and himself to such searching inquiry when they were suspected of having aided Seth in escaping from prison.

It was Colonel Monckton, and at the moment when Enoch understood this fact the officer waved his sword above his head, shouting:

"To the charge, my brave troops! To the charge!"

On came the line of red.

Nearer and nearer, and neither shout nor report of musket from the Continentals.

It seemed to Enoch as if the enemy was hardly thirty yards away when he heard General Wayne cry sharply:

"Aim well and fire, boys!"

A deafening report followed this command, and as the smoke cleared away the Grenadiers could be seen falling back, almost entirely without an officer.

At that point nearest the American line the young aid saw, lying upon his face, the body of Colonel Monckton motionless in death, and heard as if in a dream the command from some officer near him for the men to rush forward and secure the corpse.

As if the British soldiers also heard this order, they halted, turned suddenly, and came back with a rush, making no effort to preserve their formation, but intent only on rescuing the body of their commander.

Sick at heart, for this killing of a man with whom he had been in some measure connected, however disagreeably, seemed worse than the fall of a stranger, Enoch turned his horse to ride back to the commander-in-chief; but before he was out of the press he heard loud cheers which told that the Americans had gained the ghastly prize, and, glancing over his shoulder, he saw the Grenadiers once more retreating.

Twice during the half hour that followed did Enoch see Lord Cosmo Gordon acting his part most heroically, and each time did the boy put up a fervent prayer that the gallant Englishman might escape unharmed.

Fiercely the contest continued to rage at the center of the British line, and at other points, until Wayne repulsed the Grenadiers. Then the entire line gave way, and fell back to the heights occupied by General Lee in the morning. It was a strong position, flanked by thick woods and morasses, with only a narrow way of approach in front.

This portion of the battle was won; but the Continentals were unable to pursue their advantage.

Night had now come, and in the darkness it was well-nigh impossible the American troops could continue the work so bravely pursued after the disgraceful rout, for which they were not really responsible.

The excessive heat of the day had wearied them equally with the fatigue of battle, and the commander-in-chief, to whose personal exertions the victory was due, said to Enoch:

"Ride to the right and give the word to all the commanders you find, that their troops may be allowed to sleep on their arms. It is the last duty I shall charge you with this day, lad, and you are at liberty to find repose wherever is most pleasing."

The young aid set out, picking his way here and there among the dead and the dying, repeating the welcome command to the leaders of the different divisions, and when he had reached that body of troops furthest to the right, he found himself among the gallant Jerseymen.

"It is time that order came," General Dickinson said with an air of relief. "But, lad, if we had had one more hour of daylight, the enemy would have now been fleeing before us like a flock of frightened sheep."

"Is yours the last division on this side?"

"It is."

"I have permission to bivouac wherever I choose. May I remain with your troops, sir?"

"There is no need to ask that, lad, and I understand why you wish to do so. Your friends, raw recruits though they are, have this day done men's duty, and I congratulate you three Philadelphia boys upon your initiatory work as soldiers."

It was not an easy task to find his friends upon that blood-stained field; but Enoch succeeded after half an hour's search, and was received with shouts of joy by Jacob and Seth as he rode up.

"I began to fear something had happened to you," the latter cried, as Enoch dismounted and clasped him by the hands. "The last either of us saw of our friend, the aid, was when the Royal Grenadiers charged on General Wayne's forces."

"I was where I could see it all," Enoch replied, "and although we have no reason to think of Colonel Monckton kindly, it made me sad to see so gallant an officer fall."

"Did our men get possession of his body?" Jacob asked.

"Yes, and carried it to the rear. Have either of you fellows been wounded?"

"We haven't received so much as a scratch," Seth replied promptly, "and that seems strangest of all this day's work to me. When we were first under fire I expected each moment to be killed; but as the time wore on I actually forgot the danger. Say, Enoch, you must have had it hotter than we did, if you kept with General Washington, and I saw you ride across the field half a dozen times when it seemed as if the bullets were flying around you as thickly as hail."

"My experience was about the same as yours in that respect. The first time I was sent with a message I felt terribly frightened; but after that thought only of the chances for success or failure. Where's Greene?"

"Somewhere hereabouts. He got a bullet through the arm; but declares that the wound is not serious, and refuses to go under the surgeon's care."

"I suppose now you have had so much experience, you will continue to be an aid," Jacob said, and there was no shade of envy in his tone this time. He realized as never before that if any one really desires to serve his country it makes little difference what position he occupies.

"Indeed I shan't," Enoch said emphatically. "When the time comes that I can speak with General Washington, I shall ask permission to enlist in the same company with you, and have no doubt but that it will be granted. Now, boys, I have come to mess with you. The order I brought General Dickinson was that the troops were to sleep on their arms, and I suppose we are at liberty to remain anywhere within these lines."

"There doesn't seem to be much choice. Suppose we stay where we are," Seth suggested. "Greene left us here, and most likely will come back, when—"

"He is back now, lad," a voice cried, and a moment later the spy appeared from out the darkness. "I have got rations such as are being dealt out—Hello, here's our friend, the aid, and now he'll want grain for his horse. I'll look for some."

"Let me do that," Enoch cried as Greene, dropping on the ground the food he was carrying, was on the point of turning away again. "I am told that you are wounded, and you should have attention before playing waiter for us three who are in good bodily condition."

"The wound wasn't much more than a scratch, and the surgeon has already tied it up. You may look for provender for the horse if you have a mind to. The best place would be nearabout where General Dickinson is."

Enoch's horse did not receive a particularly hearty meal on this evening, owing to the lack of grain; but he was well groomed, and not until that work had been done to his own satisfaction did Enoch rejoin his comrades.

Then, lying at full length on the ground, they discussed the stirring events of the day, and it was during this conversation that Greene asked:

"Did you see that Irish woman when her husband was killed during the artillery duel—at the time the Royal Light-horse charged so furiously?"

"I didn't know there was a woman on the field!" Enoch exclaimed.

"There was, and her husband was one of our gunners. She assisted him during the hot cannonade by bringing water from the spring near by, and when he was killed at his post, there being no one to take his place, the piece was ordered to be removed; but she insisted on working it, and twice within an hour I saw her using the rammer as energetically as any man among them. The soldiers were cheering for 'Mary'—that is her name, I suppose—and she deserves more than thanks for this day's work."

Then each in turn related some incident which he had seen or participated in, until, despite the groans of the wounded, who were being tended by the surgeons at a temporary hospital near by, the three Philadelphia boys fell asleep, and when morning came were aroused by the tidings that Clinton had put his weary troops in motion at midnight, and stolen away.

The British soldiers whom General Lee declared the Americans could not stand against had been fairly beaten by men decidedly their inferiors in discipline and soldierly training.

It was simply the purpose of this story to relate the adventures of the three Philadelphia boys during the events which led up to the battle of Monmouth, and with the triumphant ending of that engagement the purpose of this imperfectly told tale has been accomplished.

Every reader knows that the Americans lost in this battle two hundred and twenty-eight; the British two hundred and fifty, sixty of these having been stricken dead by the heat.

It is believed that there were about fourteen thousand men in the American forces, and not more than ten thousand under Clinton.

The order which General Washington issued, congratulating his army upon the victory they had won, is also well known; but because those in whom we are particularly interested served in the New Jersey militia, the following extract may well be repeated:

"General Dickinson and the militia of his State are also thanked for their noble spirit in opposing the enemy on the march from Philadelphia, and for the aid given by harassing and impeding their march so as to allow the Continental troops to come up with them."

On the following morning, after making of the widow Mary a sergeant in the Continental army, Washington marched toward New Brunswick, thence to the Hudson River, which he crossed at King's Ferry, and encamped at White Plains in Westchester County.

It may, perhaps, not be necessary to add that some time after the battle Lee wrote an insulting letter to General Washington, demanding an apology for words spoken on the field. He also demanded a court of inquiry, and was gratified. Washington caused his arrest on charges of disobedience, misbehavior, and disrespect. He was found guilty and sentenced to suspension of command for one year. He never resumed his station, and died October 22, 1782. "Had Lee been obedient and faithful in the morning, the whole British army might have been prisoners of war before the close of that memorable Sabbath day in June."

That Enoch succeeded in enlisting with his comrades is positive, for the names of the three boys are to be found on the muster rolls prepared in July, 1778, side by side, and that they afterward served their country gallantly may some time be told in detail, for their active service was not ended with the battle of Monmouth.