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By Frank R. Stockton
Originally published in 1896
All these things occupied him very much, and he
did not sit down to breakfast till ten o'clock. Shortly
after they had finished their meal, and Lee was
writing a letter to General Gates, in which he expressed
a very contemptible opinion of General Washington,
Major Wilkinson saw, at the end of the lane
which led from the house down to the main road, a
party of British cavalry, who dashed round the corner
toward the house. The major immediately called
out to General Lee that the Redcoats were coming;
but Lee, who was a man not to be frightened by
sudden reports, finished signing the letter, and then
jumped up to see what was the matter.
By this time the dragoons had surrounded the
house; and when he perceived this, General Lee
naturally wanted to know where the guards were, and
why they did not fire on these fellows. But there
was no firing, and apparently there were no guards;
and when Wilkinson went to look for them, he found
their arms in the room which had been their quarters,
but the men were gone. These private soldiers
had evidently been quite as free and easy, and as
bent upon making themselves comfortable, as had
been the general, and they had had no thought that
such a thing as a British soldier was anywhere in
the neighborhood. When Wilkinson looked out of
the door, he saw the guards running in every direction,
with dragoons chasing them.
What all this meant, nobody knew at first; and
Wilkinson supposed that it was merely a band of
marauders of the British army, who were making a
raid into the country to get what they could in the
way of plunder. It was not long before this was
found to be a great mistake; for the officer in command
of the dragoons called from the outside, and
demanded that General Lee should surrender himself,
and that, if he did not do so in five minutes, the
house would be set on fire.
Now, it was plain to everybody that the British
had heard of the leisurely advance of this American
general, and that he had left his command and come
to Basking Ridge to take his case at an inn, and so
they had sent a detachment to capture him. Soon
the women of the house came to General Lee, and
urged him to hide himself under a feather bed.
They declared that they would cover him up so that
nobody would suspect that he was in the bed; then
they would tell the soldiers that he was not there,
and that they might come and search the house if
they chose.
But although Lee was a jealous man and a hasty
man, he had a soul above such behavior as this, and
would not hide himself in a feather bed; but, as there
was no honorable way of escape, he boldly came forward
and surrendered himself.
The British gave him no time to make any preparations
for departure. They did not know but that
his army might be on the way to Basking Ridge;
and the sooner they were off, the better. So they
made him jump on Major Wilkinson's horse, which
was tied by the door; and in his slippers and dressing
gown, and without a hat, this bold soldier of wide
experience, who thought he should be commander
in chief of the American army, was hurried away at
full gallop. He was taken to New York, where he
was put into prison. It is said that Lee plotted against
America during his imprisonment; but General Washington
did not know that, and used every exertion to
have him exchanged, so that his aspiring rival soon
again joined the American army.
But his misfortune had no good effect upon General
Charles Lee, who came back to his command with
as high an opinion of himself, and as low an opinion
of certain other people, as he had had when he involuntarily
the battle of Monmouth Court House, that Charles left it. It was some time after' this, at
Lee showed what sort of a man he really was. He
had now become so jealous that he positively determined that he would not obey orders, and would act
as he thought best. He had command of a body of
troops numbering five thousand, a good-sized army
for those days, and he was ordered to advance to
Monmouth Court House and attack the enemy who
were there, while Washington, with another force,
would hasten to his assistance as rapidly as possible.
Washington carried out his part of the plan; but
when he had nearly reached Monmouth, he found, to
his amazement, that Lee had gone there, but had done
no fighting at all, and was now actually retreating, and
coming in his direction. As it would be demoralizing
in the highest degree to his own command, if Lee's
armed forces in full retreat should come upon them,
Washington hurried forward to prevent anything of
the sort, and soon met Lee. When the latter was asked
what was the meaning of this strange proceeding, he
could give no good reason, except that he thought
it better not to risk an engagement at that time.
Then the Virginia country gentleman blazed out at
the soldier of fortune, and it is said that no one ever
heard George Washington speak to any other man as
he spoke to General Lee on that day. He was told to
go back to his command and to obey orders, and together
the American forces moved on. In the battle
which followed, the enemy was repulsed; but the
victory was not so complete as it should have been,
for the British departed in the night and went where
they intended to go, without being cut off by the
American army, as would have been the case if Lee
had obeyed the orders which were given him.
General Lee was very angry at the charges which
Washington had made against him, and demanded that
he should be tried by court-martial. His wish was
granted. He was tried, and found guilty of every
charge made against him, and in consequence was
suspended from the army for one year.
But Charles Lee never went back into the American
army. Perhaps he had had enough of it. In any
event, it had had enough of him; and seven years afterwards,
when he died of a fever, his ambition to stand
in Washington's shoes died with him. While he lived
on his Virginia farm, he was as impetuous and eccentric
as when he had been in the army, and he must
have been a very unpleasant neighbor. In fact, the
people there thought he was crazy. This opinion was
not changed when his will was read, for in that
document he said,–
This Web version, edited by GET NJ, COPYRIGHT 2003
Authorities:
I desire most earnestly that I may not be buried
in any church or churchyard, or within a mile of
any Presbyterian or Anabaptist meetinghouse; for
since I have resided in this country I have kept so
much bad company when living, that I do not choose
to continue it when dead.
"Historical Collections." Barber and Howe.
"Story of an Old Farm." A. D. Mellick.
"Life of Lord Stirling." W. Duer.
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