Through the din of battle, the heat of summer and the difficulty of winter the gunner and his wife followed the fortunes of the American army. But it was not until the retreat of our forces at Fort Clinton that Molly's first deed of daring became a by-word in tent and camp. Finding that it was necessary to leave the enemy in Pennsylvania, Hays started to fire his gun as a parting salute to the British, but in the rush and confusion of the moment he dropped his lighted match. There was no time to lose, and there was danger of being captured, so he did not stop, but Molly, who was behind him, seized the match from the ground, ran to the gun, touched it off, and then scampered down the hill as fast as her legs could carry her, to join the soldiers. This happened some months before the famous battle of Monmouth.
Down in Monmouth Mountain the people never dreamed that there would be any fighting in their midst. The murmur of the sea on one side and the murmur of the pine forest on the other made a melody of sound that shut out the roar of warfare, so that the tramp, tramp, tramp of the British army that suddenly aroused them must have been a very great surprise. Sir Henry Clinton had succeeded to the command of the British army, with orders to New York and a line of march through the Jerseys. And so it happened that Monmouth became the scene of conflict, Washington, with his troops, having pressed forward to head them off. Halting at a little place called Allentown, the English commander found the American forces at his front. He pushed on, however, and on the twenty-seventh of June encamped at Monmouth Courthouse, on rising ground, hemmed in on all sides by woods and marshes. General Washington, with grave deliberation, decided to risk the fight, and although the battle was heartily contested, the American army was victorious. That memorable Sunday, the twenty-eighth of June, 1778, was the hottest day that year. Yet,
