s to the
support of Gen. Wayne, who had been sent on as a vanguard, and had
already come up with the British rear. These two brigades were commanded
by Gens. Lee and Lafayette. At this time Col. Bigelow was under the
command of Gen. Lafayette. This vanguard of the American army had so
severely galled the rear of the British, that Gen. Clinton resolved to
wheel his whole army and put the Americans to flight at the point of the
bayonet. For a short time the conflict was severe. At length Gen. Lee
gave way, for which he was afterwards court-martialed and suspended for
one year. The light horse, also, of Lafayette's brigade, gave way, and
nothing of that celebrated vanguard but Col. Bigelow's regiment, with
two or three other regiments, remained. It was said that if Gen. Lee had
stood his ground, as he might have done, a decisive victory would have
been gained. Col. Bigelow's regiment was the last to quit the field.

It was said by one of Col. Bigelow's men, who was an intimate
acquaintance of the writer of this article, and who was wounded at that
time, that, at the time he fell, Col. Bigelow seized his musket from
him, and fought more like a tiger than like a man. This man was Mr.
Solomon Parsons, whose son now occupies and owns the same farm on which
his father died, on Apricot street, in this city. Col. Bigelow with his
regiment had to retire, but was soon met by Washington, with the main
army, who was moving up to the rescue. After the troops of Lee and
Lafayette had been rallied, the whole army turned upon the enemy, and
then came the tug of war, for "Greek met Greek." The English, flushed
with the advantages they had got, and the Americans under the command of
their own beloved Washington, many of whom had never fought before by
his side, were determined to retake the field, or die in the attempt.
The conflict was now terrible indeed, and in the midst of flame, and
smoke, and metal hail, Bigelow was conspicuous. The English were
repulsed and driven to the woods. The Americans retake the field; night
comes on; the whole American army rest on their arms through the night,
that they may renew the attack with the dawn of day; day comes on, and
the British army has fled, as one of their officers said by moonlight,
but it so happened that the moon set that night at 10 o'clock, being but
four days old.

Such was the issue of the battle of Freehold, or of Monmouth, as the
Americans call it. We have now traced the military h