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Title: The Minute Boys of Philadelphia
Author: James Otis
Illustrator: L. J. Bridgman
Release date: April 27, 2025 [eBook #75968]
Language: English
Original publication: Boston: Dana Estes & Company, 1911
Credits: Aaron Adrignola, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MINUTE BOYS OF PHILADELPHIA ***
THE MINUTE BOYS OF PHILADELPHIA
[Illustration: “WHICH WAY DID HE GO?”]
THE MINUTE BOYS OF
PHILADELPHIA
BY
JAMES OTIS
Author of “The Minute Boys of Long Island,” “The Minute
Boys of Wyoming Valley,” “Boys of ’98,” “Teddy and
Carrots,” “Boys of Fort Schuyler,” “Under the
Liberty Tree,” etc., etc.
Illustrated by
L. J. BRIDGMAN
[Illustration]
BOSTON
DANA ESTES AND COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
_Copyright, 1911_
BY DANA ESTES & COMPANY
_All rights reserved_
THE MINUTE BOYS OF PHILADELPHIA
_Electrotyped and Printed by
THE COLONIAL PRESS
C. H. Simonds & Co., Boston, U. S. A._
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE SPY 11
II. THE SUGGESTION 33
III. SKINNY BAKER 57
IV. THE RECRUITS 76
V. AT SWEDE’S FORD 96
VI. VALLEY FORGE 117
VII. IN MORTAL FEAR 136
VIII. THE CARNIVAL 156
IX. ON DUTY 173
X. IN THE LION’S MOUTH 194
XI. AT BARREN HILL 213
XII. THE RETREAT 231
XIII. TURNING THE TABLES 249
XIV. A WARM PLACE 268
XV. A NARROW ESCAPE 287
XVI. THE ATTACK 305
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
“WHICH WAY DID HE GO?” (_Page 18_) _Frontispiece_
WE KEPT STRICT WATCH AHEAD AND BEHIND 40
“I COULD KILL YOU AND NOT CALL IT MURDER” 72
“THIS, GENERAL VARNUM, IS RICHARD SALTER” 113
HE FOUND TWO LOBSTER-BACKS GUARDING THE ENTRANCE 144
SCALING THE JAIL WALL 191
IN A TWINKLING JEREMY WAS UPON HIM 258
BUTTING HIM FULL IN THE PIT OF THE STOMACH 296
THE MINUTE BOYS OF PHILADELPHIA
CHAPTER I
THE SPY
In striving to set down what we boys of Philadelphia did during a
portion of the time when General Howe and his lobster-backs held
possession of our city, I have no intention of blowing my own horn.
If, however, it should appear from what I write that I have made myself
seemingly of more consequence than is my due, it must be set down as
excuse that I am earnestly endeavoring to give a true, faithful account
of our work, for some of us lads of Philadelphia did, so we have been
told by those who stand high in the American army, very much good for
the patriot cause in our own small way.
It is needless for me to go into details regarding General Howe’s
occupation of the city, for the facts are well known. I question if
there be a boy in all these colonies who does not remember how we of
Philadelphia suffered when the lobster-backs held possession of the
city.
It is written in history by this time, that we who held to the Cause
were sadly put upon by those whom the king sent overseas to whip
us into subjection. It may be there are some outside this city of
Philadelphia who think we might have done more in our own defence; but
I dare venture to say you will agree with me, if it so please you to
believe all I have written, when I say that we, meaning men, women and
children, did whatsoever we could for the Cause at such times as it was
possible to do so without endangering our lives.
In more cases than one have I seen even the women render aid which
would have cost them the halter, if so be General Howe, or General
Clinton who came later, had had an idea of what was going on.
Do you remember the battle of Germantown, as some people call it, that
fight which took place near the Chew house? Well, it was about six
months afterward, when the spring had fully come, that Jeremy Hapgood,
my particular friend, and I, who am by name known as Richard Salter,
had agreed among ourselves that we would attend a vendue of horses to
be held at the London Coffee-House, which is situate on the corner of
High and Front streets, as of course you know.
To our minds, the only important matter concerning this vendue was that
there were several fine animals to be sold, and among them mayhap four
or five which the British officers had seized from our people nearabout
Germantown, claiming a right to take them in the name of the king
because their owners were said to favor the Cause.
We lads were not the only persons in Philadelphia with a leaning
towards independence, who counted to be at the vendue that day, for
I had heard it whispered about by Master Norris, who, as you know,
is a most peaceable man, being a Friend, that there was a chance some
attempt might be made during the sale to carry off the horses which had
been much the same as stolen.
Jeremy and I were minded to know what would be done, hoping there might
be some chance for us to lend a hand, and realizing that it would be
a credit to us if we could say we had had some part in cutting the
combs, however slightly, of these lobster-backs who paraded the streets
shouldering into the gutters all of our people who dared hold the
sidewalk when their high mightinesses were inclined to use it.
Now, as you know, the London Coffee-House was a famous resort for those
minions of the king, and we lads generally gave that part of the city a
wide berth, not being minded to bear insult, nay, even blows, when it
so pleased the lobster-backs to inflict them.
To the end that we might see what was going on and at the same
time remain at a respectful distance from the red-coated gentry, I
proposed to Jeremy that we meet in front of that shop at the corner of
Front street and Black Horse alley which was formerly Mrs. Roberts’
coffee-house, and there we would not only be at a safe distance from
the Britishers who were likely to be in a disagreeable mood from overly
much drinking; but, in addition could, if need arose, readily make our
escape.
You must know that at the rear of the store was a gate opening on
Chestnut street, where, when the place had been used as a coffee-house,
the gentlemen’s horses were brought in to the stable, and through
that gate we might readily give any lobster-back the slip unless,
peradventure, he was fleeter of foot than we; but there were few in
Philadelphia at that time who could outstrip either Jeremy or me in a
race.
Well, as we had agreed so we did, and on coming in front of the shop we
could see on the corner of High street a large throng gathered, nearly
every one of whom, save, of course, the grooms, wore a red coat, and
I said to Jeremy that it was in my mind Master Norris had repented of
taking any part in the rescue of the horses, after learning that so
many of the soldiers were gathered.
As a matter of fact, it would have been a mighty disagreeable task to
run off any of the animals while such a crowd of officers was nearby,
with here and there a squad of soldiers who had gathered by themselves,
not daring to approach too near to their high and mighty masters.
“If Isaac Norris and his friends had any design to run off the beasts,
then the work should have been done last night while they were stabled,
rather than wait until now, for even the thickest head in Philadelphia
could understand that with so many fine horses offered for sale, the
king’s army would be well represented at this vendue,” Jeremy Hapgood
said grimly, half turning as if it was in his mind to beat a retreat,
for it would profit us little to remain so far from the vendue, if
peradventure we were eager to hear and to see all that was going on.
The animals had not yet been brought out for sale, and it appeared to
me that the waiting ones were impatient, so much so, in fact, that
there was seemingly considerable excitement nearby the entrance to the
coffee-house, although what had caused it I could not even so much as
guess, and it was on my tongue’s end to propose to Jeremy that we go
down to the water front nearby the Jolly Tar inn, where we had for some
time kept concealed a skiff.
Now it may sound much as if I am straining the truth when I say that
we two lads had kept hidden from the Britishers all this while a boat,
for, as you well know, it was near akin to a crime for one of us
so-called rebels of Philadelphia to have a craft of any kind in his
possession.
Every boat and vessel on the river had either been destroyed or taken
in charge by the lobster-backs, as if they were fearful that some of
us enemies to the king might try to get away from their not overly
pleasant company by taking to the water, and that their hold of
Philadelphia would be weakened if man, woman or child was permitted to
leave the city.
As I have said, it was on the tip of my tongue to tell Jeremy that
we were but wasting our time here while we could be more pleasantly
employed elsewhere, when there arose a sudden commotion nearby the door
of the coffee-house, and in a twinkling I saw three of the red-coated,
swaggering officers fall to the ground as if suddenly stricken with
death.
Almost at the same instant from out amid the throng there appeared a
man dressed in the garb of a countryman, who, from outward appearance,
might have been one of the farmers nearby, and who, thinking more of
the dollars than of his country’s freedom, was ready to serve the
Britishers with meat and vegetables, if so be he received therefor
sufficient of hard money.
This fellow came out with a bound, and he it was who had overturned
the lobster-backs. Almost before I could fairly understand what had
happened, he was coming in the direction of Jeremy and me at full
speed, while behind him rose such cries as:
“Kill him! A spy, a spy! Take after him, you idlers; don’t you see that
he is a spy and escaping?”
Jeremy and I needed no further introduction to this fleeing stranger.
The fact that the Britishers were bent on capturing him, and accused
him of being a spy, which was much the same as declaring he was one who
had devoted himself to the Cause, was enough to make him our friend,
and in a twinkling, fortunately, I had my wits about me sufficiently
to realize that we could open up to him a way of escape, if so be the
lobster-backs did not press too closely on his heels.
I knew full well that if I was seen to give aid to one suspected of
being a spy, my shrift would be short indeed, for General Howe’s
officers made quick work of us people of Philadelphia who were
suspected of having lost our love for the king. Therefore it was that
I ran forward as if to seize the man, and did lay hold of him with one
hand, striving as if it was my purpose to detain him, while at the same
time I said loudly, realizing that the uproar behind us was so great
that the words would not be overheard:
“Get into the alley-way this side the shop! There is a gate leading to
Chestnut street, if so be you are minded to go through; but you should
be able to find a hiding place in the old stables, while Jeremy and I
keep on as if in pursuit, making them think you have passed that way.”
Then it was I threw myself to the ground, as if he who was shouted
after as a spy had thrown me off roughly; but was able to scramble to
my feet before the foremost of the pursuers came up.
It was well I moved quickly, otherwise Jeremy might have brought us
all to grief, for he failed utterly of understanding why it was I
would do anything to aid in the capture of the man. He looked at me in
open-mouthed astonishment with reproach written on every feature of his
face, until, seizing him by the coat-sleeve, I dragged him on with me
as I shouted at the full strength of my lungs:
“A spy, a spy! Come all you good people and catch the spy!”
“What is the meaning of this?” Jeremy asked angrily. “How does it
chance that you are joining with the lobster-backs in chasing down one
of our people?”
“Have your wits about you, Jeremy Hapgood, else are you like to get me
into serious trouble!” I whispered angrily. “Follow my example, and it
may be that peradventure we can help this unhappy man who is risking
his life for the Cause.”
Then, literally dragging Jeremy along with me, I continued on as if in
pursuit of the spy, darting close at his heels up the narrow passage
leading to the ruined stables, and from there to the gate which let on
Chestnut street.
To my satisfaction, I saw him make a plunge among the decaying timbers
much as does one who, swimming, dives into deeper water, and without
slackening pace I threw open the gate leading on to Chestnut street,
where I made as if I had hurt my leg; but all the while continuing to
cry:
“A spy, a spy! Catch the spy!”
“What has come upon you?” Jeremy asked sharply. “I fail to understand
any portion of this game.”
“It makes little difference whether you understand it or not, Jeremy
Hapgood,” I replied sharply. “Your part is to follow my example, if
peradventure you are so thick-headed as not to be able to look through
a ladder. You know as well as I, that the man went out of here, and I
would have caught him but for the fact that he kicked me on the knee.”
Then it was that Jeremy began to have an inkling of how I would help
the poor fellow who was so sorely pressed, and a smile of satisfaction
came over his face which would have been fatal to my plans if the
lobster-backs had come up in sufficient time to see it.
It was necessary the foremost of the pursuers should run a full
half-square before they could come to where we were standing, and no
less than a minute passed from the time I threw open the gate before
the leaders came up, shouting wildly:
“Which way did he go? Why have you halted in the chase? Where is he?”
“He passed out through this gate not many seconds ago, disabling me by
a kick as he went, else I would have caught the fellow,” was my reply.
Now, as a matter of course, all this was a lie, and strictly speaking,
so my mother would say, no lad has a right to tell that which is false.
But I have heard Master Norris, who is as straight a Friend as can
be found in Philadelphia, and a most truthful man, say that in these
troublous times he believes we are warranted in telling the enemies of
our country things which are not true, if so be good can come to the
Cause thereby.
Surely in this falsehood of mine good must come to the Cause, if
peradventure the man whom I knew to be hiding under the timbers of the
stable, was indeed a spy who had come down from Valley Forge, mayhap,
with the hope of finding such a condition of affairs as would warrant
our people in making an attempt to retake Philadelphia.
Now, as a matter of course, we lads knew nothing whatsoever of military
matters, and wondered greatly why it was all our people should suffer
as they had been suffering at Valley Forge, without making some attempt
to relieve us who were shut up by the lobster-backs much the same as
prisoners.
It seemed to me that if I were a soldier I would prefer to fight,
no matter how great the odds might be against me, than remain idle,
half-starved, half-frozen, half-clad, awaiting a favorable opportunity.
However, as I have said, and as you know full well, my knowledge of
military matters was slight, and in my foolishness, on hearing that a
spy had been discovered in the coffee-house, I believed he could have
been sent for no less a purpose than to learn what he might to aid our
people in making ready for an attack. And as I stood there by the gate,
with the lobster-backs streaming past me, each asking querulously which
way the game had gone, I could almost fancy I saw those patriots from
Valley Forge coming down through Germantown to square accounts.
It goes without saying that the Britishers did not continue the chase
very far up Chestnut street, because of not being able to see the
man they were so eager to catch, and after running a dozen yards,
mayhap, one by one they turned back to question Jeremy and me as to the
direction which the fugitive had taken.
I thought of what Master Norris had said regarding truth-telling when
it came to a question of saving a man’s life, and to the best of my
ability I explained how I had seen the man run up the street after
passing through the gate, and then, as my attention was attracted for
an instant to Jeremy, I turned my head to look again; but saw nothing
of him.
Therefore it was, so I said, that he must have taken refuge in some one
of the houses or outbuildings between where we stood and, mayhap, the
distance of a square.
By this time Jeremy had succeeded in getting through his head, which
it seemed to me had never been so thick as on this day, somewhat of
the plan in my mind, and bravely did he second my efforts to throw the
lobster-backs off the track.
He also declared that he had seen the stranger running up the street;
had followed him a certain distance, and declared that but for the blow
which the fellow gave me, we two lads would have secured him. In other
ways Master Hapgood bolstered up his story and mine in such fashion,
that unless there had been serious cause for suspicion, the Britishers
could have done no less than believe all we told them.
The result was that very speedily we were left alone, for not above
twenty had followed the man through the alley-way, and many of these
had gone back to the coffee-house to explain how the supposed spy had
succeeded in giving them the slip.
Within five minutes we were alone, standing in the gateway where we
could see all that might take place on Chestnut street in either
direction, as well as make certain whether anyone came upon us from the
rear.
Thus we were, as you might say, absolutely alone, and Jeremy said to me
in a whisper:
“Now what is your intent, Richard Salter? It strikes me that this is
your affair, and I am well content to do whatsoever you shall say.”
I knew not what reply to make, and verily an older head than mine might
have been puzzled to decide exactly what was best to be done, for there
was need of much caution since a man’s life depended upon the decision
that should be made.
I had succeeded in saving the stranger, whoever he might be, for the
time being, and now it stood me in hand to do whatsoever I might toward
finishing the job in proper fashion. But how the matter was to be
worked puzzled me beyond words to describe.
Jeremy waited while one might have counted twenty, for me to reply to
his question, and then repeated it in a different form:
“You have got your spy underneath the timbers of the stable, and within
a stone’s throw of where the king’s officers most do congregate. Now,
how are you to prevent the poor fellow from starving to death?”
“It is a question which I wish most heartily I might be able to answer,
Jeremy,” I replied soberly, cudgeling my brains meanwhile for some
solution to the difficulty.
However, there was in my mind the fact that I could not make any move
at once, because of the danger that the lobster-backs who had gone up
Chestnut street might come back into the yard, therefore I said to the
lad, linking my arm in his:
“There is nothing which can be done yet awhile; we must loiter around
until night has come, and if so be the man who is in hiding has as much
sense and quick wit as a spy needs, then will he understand that we
are forced to wait until the hue and cry has died away before we can
venture a hand to save him.”
Well, Jeremy had no reply to make to this, and for the very good reason
that there was nothing he could say.
He knew as well as I, that for us to approach the hiding place of the
stranger now, while the lobster-backs were so near at hand and so
likely to come into the yard, would be much the same as delivering the
fellow over to death, therefore he followed my lead, and we two walked
as slowly away as if there was nothing whatsoever on our minds save a
desire for pleasure, toward the Jolly Tar inn, where there was good
reason to believe we might meet with some of our comrades.
It can well be supposed that we discussed this sudden change in our
affairs most earnestly as we walked along; but without arriving at any
very satisfactory conclusion. We had most like saved the life of a man
that day, and the question which would come into our minds, despite all
efforts to banish it, was whether or no we might succeed yet further in
the purpose, or if that which we had done was only to keep him on this
earth a few hours longer.
Certain it was, once the Britishers suspected him of being a spy, he
would suffer the death of one in event of being captured, for the
lobster-backs were not overly careful about spilling the blood of
Americans.
Now you must know that our boat lay hidden on the bank of Dock creek,
under a pile of lumber and general building material, where, save
strictest search was made, she would be undiscovered by the enemy.
It is not to be supposed that at this time we boys had very much
opportunity to indulge in boating. The British ships lay so thickly
at anchor in the river off the town that, as Jeremy said, one might
not safely pass a knife-blade between them, and unless we were minded
to go up stream, where was every chance of being overhauled by one of
the guard-boats at the expense of losing our craft, we were forced to
content ourselves with looking at her now and then, thinking with a
deal of satisfaction that we had succeeded thus far in holding that
which his high mightiness, General Howe, insisted we of Philadelphia
should not be allowed to keep in our possession.
The _Jolly Rover_ was the name of our boat, and she was not very much
to look upon with pleasure, being nothing more than a skiff, as you
might say, with the forward part decked in, so that we might venture
down toward the Capes even in stormy weather, without risk of being
swamped.
However, to us she was as valuable, and, perhaps, as seemly looking as
any of his majesty’s vessels, and it appeared to me that after having
crawled beneath the lumber to get at her, knowing the lobster-backs
were supposed to keep a strict guard nearby, I could better think out
any problem which presented itself to my mind, because of being, so to
speak, under my own vine and fig tree.
Therefore it was that I led Jeremy down toward Dock creek, turning over
and over again in my mind, as you may well suppose, the chances for and
against our being able to aid that stranger who, if he acted the truth,
and I doubted it not, was laboring for the American Cause and now had
none on this earth to trust in save us.
It seemed like the rarest stroke of good fortune that we should chance
to come upon young Chris, meaning Chris Ludwig, son of Christopher
Ludwig, the baker, who was our especial crony, and also an equal owner
in the _Jolly Rover_.
Young Chris was loitering around Front street nearabout the creek,
having nothing especial to do, for if there was one thing in this
world that he was unfriendly with it was work, and although his father
stood ready at all times, almost too ready, the lad said, to give him
employment, he did his best to evade it. On this day verily I blessed
his indolence, for, with the exception of Jeremy, he was the one person
in Philadelphia to whom I could open my heart without fear of being
betrayed.
One might suppose that a sensible lad would go at once to his
father with such information as was in my possession--dangerous
information;--but I had none to whom I could appeal. My father had long
since been dead; my mother was a widow who, with what little aid I
could give her by earning a shilling or a sixpence now and then, eked
out a livelihood letting rooms in the house where I was born, therefore
this taking possession of the city by General Howe was not unwelcome to
her in one sense, although she was as good a “rebel” as could be found
in all our colony of Pennsylvania.
British officers were inclined to spend the king’s gold whenever there
was an opportunity of ministering to their pleasure, and many of them
hired apartments in the city rather than be quartered wheresoever
their billets led them. Thus it was that we had in my home three
lobster-backs, all officers of the Royal Irish regiment, and you can
guess that I heard every day of my life such threats or suggestions
against us of Philadelphia as made my blood boil, although I dared not
speak a word in protest, else had I gone to the stone jail, or to join
the prisoners in the state house, without delay.
As a matter of course, young Chris was eager to know where we had been
and what was our purpose at present; but although there were none in
the streets nearby who might overhear my words, I refused to make any
explanation whatsoever until we were in our snug hiding place beneath
the lumber pile, and so told him, speaking in such a tone that on the
instant he understood something of great import must be in the wind.
It required no less than half an hour of skilful manœuvring for us to
get on board the _Jolly Rover_, safely hidden beneath the overhanging
timbers, for we were forced to go one at a time lest, otherwise, undue
attention be attracted to our movements.
But finally we were on board the craft, and then it was, sparing not
words so that the lad might have full knowledge of all which had
occurred during the morning, I told young Chris of our situation as it
concerned the stranger.
One might have thought the lad would have been overwhelmed with fear at
the bare idea of harboring a spy, for in our city of Philadelphia in
the year of grace 1778, to do so was such a crime as the lobster-backs
would never overlook until one had danced at the end of a rope so long
as life remained in his body.
But Chris was not of that stamp. Instead of showing fear, it pleased
him seemingly to a great extent that we had been able to do even so
much as hide the spy, and straightway, without thinking of the danger,
he began speculating as to how we might aid the stranger.
“I am ready to take the chances of setting off with him in this boat
during the night, going so far up the river that he may be able to get
on shore without being observed, for, of course, it is impossible we
could make our way below the city past all the ships-of-war on which
strict watch is kept.”
“It strikes me that we should first learn where the man comes from,”
Jeremy interrupted. “Certain it is he ventured into this city on
important business, otherwise he never would have risked his neck
so rashly, and it is for us to learn how his work may be furthered,
rather than say we will do this or do that because it best suits our
convenience.”
“Very well,” young Chris said quickly. “What is to prevent us from
knowing exactly how he would have us lend him a hand?”
“In order to do that, we must have speech with him,” I replied quickly,
“and, moreover, there is a possibility the man stands in need of food.”
Young Chris made a gesture with his hand as if to say I was talking at
random, and cried incautiously loud:
“What is to prevent your having speech with the man, and that right
speedily? As soon as night has come I will take my station at Black
Horse alley to give warning if any of the lobster-backs approach that
way. Jeremy shall stand guard at the gate on Chestnut street, and then
you, Richard Salter, may go in and talk to the man to your heart’s
content, so that you do not give the lobster-backs an inkling of your
purpose before having entered the shop-yard.”
Strange as it may seem, this simple plan had not occurred to me; I had
fancied it would cost us a deal of trouble and could be done only at
the expense of much danger, yet the moment young Chris had spoken I
understood how simple it would all be, providing the lobster-backs were
not loitering in the neighborhood, suspecting the man might be hidden
nearby.
However, I was not minded that the lad should believe he had contrived
something which had escaped my attention, and therefore said, much as
if it had been my purpose all the while to do this same thing:
“Of course, that is what must be done. The question in my mind,
however, is whether the man still remains where we last saw him.”
“How could he go elsewhere?” young Chris asked sharply. “He has no
means of knowing but that the Britishers are close about waiting for
him to come out, and because you gave him the hint where a hiding place
might be found, he will depend upon you to aid him farther, unless he
be a veritable simple.”
Well, we discussed the matter, each in turn suggesting the most
improbable methods of getting the stranger out of the city, and
arriving at no satisfactory conclusion. It seemed well-nigh impossible
we might thus pluck a spy from out the clutches of the Britishers
without bringing ourselves to the gallows.
You must understand that in this year of grace 1778, we of Philadelphia
were lying, as one might say, bound hand and foot at the mercy of those
whom the king had sent to whip us into subjection; and at the first
move man, woman, or child might make toward doing anything in aid of
their distressed country, then was punishment severe and terrible to
think upon, sure to follow.
Of course, we could do nothing toward aiding the spy until night had
come, and so excited were we all that there was no thought in the minds
of any that we might be needing food; but it seemed almost as if the
safety of the man depended entirely on our remaining aboard the _Jolly
Rover_, hidden from view, until the favorable moment when we might take
steps in his behalf.
I knew full well my mother would be anxious regarding me if I failed to
return home at the accustomed time, and yet it seemed that I must stay
there, if indeed I gave much of any heed to such fact. I was so puffed
up with the idea that it might be possible for me to do something
which would give me an enviable name among those who were serving the
colonies, that it was as if I had no home nor anyone who would be
concerned whether I came or remained away.
Young Chris had no desire to go back to the bakery even for a few
moments, because he knew full well that his father would find some task
for him to do, therefore was he content to remain with me. Jeremy
Hapgood, however, had better sense than either of us, for he understood
he ought to report himself at home at least once during the day, and,
finding that we were not disposed to come out from our hiding place
until it was sufficiently dark to carry into execution the plans we had
formed, he set off alone, counting to relieve his mother’s anxiety, if
so be she felt any concerning him, which was exactly what both young
Chris and I should have had manhood enough to do.
There is no good reason why I should set down all that was said by
my comrade and me while Jeremy was away, for we talked much that was
foolish, I dare venture to say. Nor were we in any way disgruntled as
Jeremy crept under the lumber pile, when the afternoon was nearly half
spent, his pockets bulging with food which he had brought for us, he
being a thoughtful lad where the comfort of his friends was concerned.
While we ate greedily, for to tell the truth both of us were
anhungered, he gave us the pleasing information that no Britishers were
to be seen in the vicinity of where the stranger was hidden.
It appeared surely as if the lobster-backs had come to believe that the
spy made his way up Chestnut street, or sought refuge in some of the
buildings there, rather than nearabout the coffee-house, and, as Jeremy
said with a chuckle of satisfaction, matters were shaping themselves
much as we would desire.
Jeremy had sufficient good sense to loiter around the London
Coffee-House amid the throng of officers which frequented that place,
hoping he might hear somewhat concerning the events of the forenoon,
and in this he was not disappointed.
The lobster-backs, it seemed, were discussing over their ale whether
the man who had been chased was indeed a spy, or some witless creature,
as one of them put it, who had inadvertently said that which caused
suspicion to fall upon him.
It appears that the man had been in the coffee-house seemingly for
the sole purpose of taking refreshment; but, so one of the Britishers
declared, keeping his ears open to all that was said around him.
Now it so chanced that one of the high and mighty lobster-backs who
sported a sword, had proposed in a drunken spirit that all within the
room should drink to the health of the king, and this man was so slow
in responding, that instantly the Britisher asked him if he was for the
king or for the colonies.
Now why it was, the man having come into Philadelphia as a spy, if
indeed such had been the case, he should have hesitated to give the
proper answer, I failed to understand, nor could Jeremy learn very much
regarding the particulars of what occurred just at that moment. At all
events, the stranger was immediately accused of being a spy, and when
he indignantly denied it, was asked to go to headquarters that he might
explain his business and tell why he was in Philadelphia at that time,
if indeed he did not live in the city.
Without making reply to this suggestion, the man leaped to his feet,
counting to trust to his heels rather than his tongue to get him out of
the scrape. Whereupon, every red-coat customer in the coffee-house set
chase after him, crying out as we had heard.
According to Jeremy’s story, the Britishers were not greatly disturbed
regarding the possibility that a spy from the American army had been
among them. They rather took it for granted that the man was of no
especial importance; that he could do them no harm, since nothing of
a private nature had been discussed in the coffee-house. Because the
farmers were allowed to come in from the country nearabout to sell
their produce, it was not strange that one of them, and this man was
seemingly a farmer by his garb, should be friendly to the colonies to
such an extent as to hesitate about drinking the king’s health.
All this was in favor, as a matter of course, of the man whom we had
set out to befriend, for it told that there would not be a very strict
watch kept over those who might attempt to leave the city, and again
we knew, or believed we did, that there would be no especial guard
stationed nearabout where the man had disappeared.
“It is all as plain sailing as a fellow could wish,” young Chris said
in a tone of satisfaction when Jeremy was come to an end of his story.
“The British are here in such numbers, while our army is penned up
in Valley Forge seemingly unable to make a move, that General Howe’s
officers do not fancy any danger can come to them from us rebels;
therefore we have simply to carry out my plan of gaining speech with
your friend the spy as soon as night has come, and you may set it down
as certain, Richard Salter, that you will not be disturbed however
long the conversation may be between you and the man. However, I would
recommend that you put a stopper to your tongue in decent time,
discussing how it is possible for him to get out of the city, rather
than striving to gratify your curiosity.”
Young Chris’s remarks rather nettled me, although I would not allow
him to see it. I was a year his elder, and although I had done nothing
which gave proof of my ability to serve the colonies, I counted that I
was quite as able to conduct an affair of this kind, dangerous though
it was, as he, and preferred in my folly to be looked on as the leader
in this enterprise, rather than as one who must obey the command of
others.
Therefore it was that I failed to make reply to his remark, and Jeremy
was tired of talking, consequently we three fell silent, crouching in
the _Jolly Rover_ beneath the overhanging timbers until the sun went
down, and darkness covered Dock creek even as it covered Philadelphia.
The night had come. There was no longer reason for us to hesitate or
to linger, for we were only counting on darkness to favor us, rather
than the lateness of the hour, and after assuring myself the coast was
clear, by creeping out amid the timbers where I could have a fairly
good view of the surroundings, I said in a whisper to Jeremy and young
Chris that the time had come for us to make an attempt at gaining
speech with the stranger.
CHAPTER II
THE SUGGESTION
If General Howe himself had been striving to make matters easy for us
in the attempt to visit the spy, matters could not have gone more to
our satisfaction.
Singularly enough, we failed to meet with a single squad of red-coats
as we came up from Dock creek to Black Horse alley, and having arrived
there, could see no one in the immediate vicinity.
At the London Coffee-House, just outside the doors, were mayhap half a
dozen officers loitering as if waiting for some friend; but that gave
me no concern, for those who held commissions in his majesty’s army did
not stoop to do such work as hunting down a spy, because there were
plenty of the rank and file to whom they could detail anything which
was disagreeable or laborious.
Therefore it was that we marched directly into the yard, taking fairly
good care, however, not to make any great display of ourselves. Having
come to the gate which led on Chestnut street, Jeremy went outside
after we had decided that if either he or young Chris should see
anything which was of a suspicious nature, they should give the alarm
by each shouting the other’s name, afterward making their way without
delay to the _Jolly Rover_ where, if so be I was not interfered with, I
could meet them.
Then it was that young Chris went back to the entrance of Black Horse
alley, and I was left alone in the yard to seek out the man whom I had
undertaken to befriend, even though he had not called upon me for such
service.
I had marked well the place where he disappeared amid the decaying
timbers, and, lying at full length, I forced my body beneath the rotten
lumber until I was well inside the covering, when I called in a whisper:
“Hello there! I am the lad who lent you a hand this morning!”
While one might have counted ten there was no answer to my call, and
not until I had repeated it twice did I hear anything betokening the
man’s whereabouts.
I was almost come to believe he had taken matters into his own hands,
and, rather than trust to boys, had set about making his way out of
the city. It was even when I was on the point of backing out from
the uncomfortable hiding place that I heard a movement beyond me in
advance, and then came a cautious whisper.
“Is there no danger in my coming out?”
“None so long as you remain quiet and are ready to take to cover again
at the first alarm,” I replied, and before the words were hardly out of
my mouth, the man was so near that by stretching forth my hand I could
touch him.
“Are they searching for me?” was his first question.
I replied to it by telling him all Jeremy had learned during the
afternoon, whereupon he asked, as if even at this late hour there was
some little distrust in his mind regarding my honesty of purpose in
striving to aid him:
“Who are you, lad?”
“Richard Salter, son of that widow who lives in Drinker’s alley, and,
while the lobster-backs are here in Philadelphia, gains a livelihood by
letting to them such rooms in our house as we do not occupy.”
“There was another lad with you this morning?” he said in a questioning
tone, and I replied promptly:
“Ay, that was Jeremy Hapgood; but now there is a third fellow who would
strive to save you from the halter.”
“And who may that be?”
“Young Chris, son of Christopher Ludwig the baker.”
“Ah, Ludwig the baker; then surely that lad should be trusted,” the
stranger said, and in such a tone as nettled me, whereupon I cried
incautiously loud, speaking sharply:
“There are none of us three who may fairly be suspected of doing aught
save that which is for the good of the Cause, else would we have left
you this morning to the mercies of the lobster-backs. If peradventure
one of them had suspected that I was seeking to show you a hiding
place, then would my shrift have been short indeed. In case you are
acquainted here in Philadelphia, you know where I must of necessity
have been at this moment if so be they got any hold upon me.”
“Ay, ay, lad, I understand all that, and you must forgive me even for
seeming to question your honesty; but when a man is as I am, lying
’twixt the halter and a bullet, it is not to be wondered that he
questions everyone around him, even those who are seemingly doing what
they may to lend him aid.”
“Never mind that part of it,” I interrupted hastily, ashamed of having
given rein to my tongue at such a time. “I know not whether it may be
possible for us lads to help you out of this scrape; but surely it
seems to me we might do almost as much as men, since boys are not so
likely to be suspected by the lobster-backs as those who are older
grown.”
“You may do as much as men, and even more, lad. Have you boys here in
Philadelphia who love the Cause, no association such as the Boys of
Liberty in Boston, or the Minute Boys in other colonies?”
“There is little chance we could have,” I said with a laugh in which
was no mirth. “Perhaps you do not know how closely we are watched by
the lobster-backs.”
“I dare venture to say you are in no worse condition than are other
lads who, binding themselves together with the agreement to do
whatsoever they may in aid of the colonies, have already succeeded
in accomplishing very much. How many are there of your age, or
thereabouts, in this city who may be trusted?”
Hurriedly I ran over in my mind those whom I knew to have favored the
Cause, and said at random:
“A dozen mayhap. There possibly are more; but I do not now recall
others with whom I would be willing to trust my liberty or my life. But
do you really think boys no older than thirteen or fourteen years might
aid the Cause?”
“Ay, of a verity I do, my lad. Are you not even now doing that which
many a man who claims to be a true son of the colonies, would flinch
at? To aid a spy in his escape is no slight crime in the eyes of those
who serve the king.”
“But this was something which happened unexpectedly,” I replied, “and
we would not find a like opportunity again in a lifetime, I might
almost say.”
“Ay; but if you and your friends sought for the opportunity, my lad,
you could do very much, and particularly just at this time,” the man
said earnestly, as if it was of the utmost importance that he interest
me in this matter, and his eagerness surprised me not a little. “With
a dozen lads who were ready to do whatsoever they might, the work of
men like me, who venture into the enemy’s camp, might be lessened very
greatly, and information sent out which could not otherwise be had by
our people,” the man continued, now with his lips close to my ear lest
any might overhear.
“Tell me how it could be done?” I cried eagerly, now burning with the
desire to do something which should give me a name among those who
were struggling to throw off the yoke of the king, for until this
moment I had not believed it possible lads like myself would be able to
accomplish anything of importance.
“Suppose I wanted to send word to Valley Forge, or to Swede’s Ford, or
anywhere else you please, of what I have learned in this city, and yet
desired to remain here longer in order to gather more information? How
well you lads could serve the Cause by carrying such message--”
“Do you mean to General Washington?” I cried excitedly, now raising my
voice so that the man laid his hand on my lips as he replied:
“Ay, to him, or to any other officer who might be waiting for the
information. In fact, lad, there is no need why I should go into detail
with you, explaining how a company of boys could aid the colonies here
in Philadelphia, even as they have aided them elsewhere since this war
for independence began. Instead of discussing that matter now, let us
set about, if so be it is in our power, to say how I may get away from
the city without loss of time?”
“And where would you go, sir?” I asked.
“Anywhere outside the British lines. My purpose is to reach Swede’s
Ford within four and twenty hours.”
“Would you take the chances of going down the river as far as the
mouth of the Schuylkill, in a small boat which is hardly more than a
skiff?” I asked, and then told him of the _Jolly Rover_, whereupon he
remained silent while one could have counted twenty, after which he
said hesitatingly:
“I question much, lad, whether it would not be easier to get away by
land rather than water, for from what I have seen, the lobster-backs
are keeping close guard over the river.”
“Ay, over the Delaware, but not the Schuylkill, and if Swede’s Ford be
the point you aim at, then it behooves you to go up the Schuylkill. I
dare venture to promise that we could get the _Jolly Rover_ out from
beneath the lumber pile twixt now and midnight without any lobster-back
being the wiser.”
“Do you think I might dare venture out within an hour, say?” the man
asked, and I replied, without hesitation:
“If so be you go with us, and make a move only when we give the word,
allowing that you are my uncle, or cousin, or whatsoever blood kin you
may choose to say in event of our being overhauled, then do I believe
we might start this moment.”
He showed himself inquisitive as to my plans, and I surely could make
no complaint as to that, for the man was giving his life, so to speak,
into my hands, and one could well fancy he would be curious to know
whom he was thus trusting.
The result of all his questions and my answers was, that within five
minutes I backed out from beneath the decaying timbers, ran to the
entrance of Black Horse alley, and in the fewest possible words told
young Chris what we were about to do, asking his opinion.
He felt quite as confident as I, that at this hour in the night we
might safely make the venture, and after telling me to bring my spy out
into the open, he ran to warn Jeremy that it was no longer necessary
for him to remain on duty at the gate.
The stranger came promptly out at my bidding, and when he was standing
in the yard, while we were waiting for young Chris and Jeremy to give
the word that the coast was clear, I whispered warningly:
“If so be we come upon a squad of lobster-backs who are inclined to
question us, it may be as well that you should claim to be my uncle who
has come down from Germantown.”
“And have you an uncle in Germantown, lad?” the man asked.
“Indeed I have not; but what concern might that be of yours?”
“Only this, my boy, that if you had one who lived in Germantown, and I
should afterward come to grief, it might be the worse for him that you
had used his name.”
It pleased me not a little that the man should be thus careful for my
safety, or for the safety of those who were near to me, and although I
had had no distrust of him before, I felt every confidence from this on.
We lost no time, after young Chris had signaled that the coast was
clear, in setting out from the shop-yard on the way to Dock creek; but
you may be very certain that we kept strict watch ahead and behind,
lest we should come upon, or be overtaken by, those whose duty it was
to make certain that “rebels” were not abroad after the sun had set.
Now it may seem like some fanciful tale, rather than reality, that we
could thus walk boldly abroad in the evening when the lobster-backs
were supposed to be on the lookout for everyone who was not of their
kidney.
But it must be borne in mind that General Howe had long held possession
of the city; that he had come to believe the American army was
powerless to do anything against him; that he felt confident the people
of Philadelphia would not dare make any attempt in their own behalf,
and, in addition to all this, his men, officers as well as privates,
had really grown careless, or I might say, lazy. They no longer were
so keen to search out rebels, because it might take them from their
pleasures, and verily the king’s men in our colony at this time were
living a life of ease and of indolence.
[Illustration: WE KEPT STRICT WATCH AHEAD AND BEHIND.]
Much of what I have just set down was said to me by the stranger as we
walked, now in a group, and again stretched out in single file that we
might the better guard against an approach of the enemy. And he spoke
thus in order to let me understand that it was not difficult, if a man
was willing to take his life in his hands, to play the spy upon General
Howe’s army.
“There is no reason why I should try to make you believe, lad, that
this work of spying upon the red-coats is a simple matter, for hardly
twelve hours are gone since you saw me fleeing for my life. That,
however, was due to my own carelessness; but if a man so chooses, he
may come into this city of Philadelphia and remain day in and day out
without being questioned. It is the possibility of sending away his
report, if so be he has one to make, which oftentimes puzzles him, and
therefore was it that I spoke of you lads binding yourselves together
here as Minute Boys, following the example of those in other colonies.”
“What’s that? What’s that?” young Chris asked jealously, and the
stranger, understanding that we must not hold overly much converse on
the street, made reply by saying:
“It was a suggestion which I made to your comrade, and when we are
where we can hold converse without danger of being overheard, or of
running our necks into a noose, I will explain to you what I have
broached to him.”
Young Chris would have insisted upon knowing then and there all that
had been said between the stranger and myself; but Jeremy interrupted
him by whispering sharply:
“I am not minded to linger here on the street in such company, even
though it be your pleasure! Our affair is to get this man hidden in the
_Jolly Rover_ until he decides how he will leave the city, and until he
has gone I’d have you bear strictly in mind, young Chris, that we are
not to take more risks than may be absolutely necessary.”
At another time and in another place, perhaps, young Chris would have
made some sharp reply, for he was not overly patient when there was a
suspicion of reproach. But just at this moment he understood, even as
well as we, that he could not afford to be thin-skinned whatever might
be said, and from then on there was no further need to urge him to
move swiftly toward Dock creek, until we were come within sight of the
lumber pile, when the four of us halted to make certain there were no
prying eyes nearabout.
“The coast is clear,” Jeremy said thirty seconds later.
And then, without hesitation, he led us to our hiding place, we
following close at his heels.
Once we were concealed beneath the lumber pile, I said to myself that
this was good token we would succeed in whatsoever was our purpose, for
if we could come from Black Horse alley in company with the man who
had but so lately been chased as a spy, and gain our place of refuge
without any hindrance, then were we likely to make names for ourselves
as Minute Boys.
Even while we were crawling beneath the timbers, did I repeat to myself
the words “The Minute Boys of Philadelphia,” and they had a pleasing
ring in my ears, for once we had banded ourselves together in such a
company, and were given by the leaders of the American army work to do,
then might we count ourselves as being well in the forefront of those
who would free the colonies.
“It was easily done,” young Chris said when the four of us were on
board the _Jolly Rover_, and he spoke much as though he alone and
unaided had brought all this thing about. “Now let us hear what it was
you and Richard Salter had to say that was seemingly of importance,” he
added to the stranger.
Whereupon the man, and I could fancy he was smiling, although owing to
the darkness it was impossible to see his face, because young Chris’
tone was so high and mighty, began in a low tone:
“In the first place let me tell you who I am. My name is Josiah
Dingley, and I did live at Germantown in that house next the Lutheran
church, before the battle; but after that bloody day I cast my lines in
with those who were struggling against the king, having been lukewarm
in the Cause until then. Because of knowing this city well, I was sent
here near to two weeks ago, and I believe the purpose of my visit was
to prepare the way for some move which will shortly be made by our
people at Valley Forge.”
“And have you been in Philadelphia all that time?” Jeremy asked in
surprise.
“Nay, lad, I have twice been to Valley Forge, and was but lately
returned when you came upon me.”
“And have you learned anything of importance in all that while?” I made
bold to ask, whereupon the man replied quickly:
“That is not for me to say, lad. I have come upon certain things which
were set me to learn; but further than that I must not speak. Now it is
of importance that some other take my place, for after having played
the simple in the London Coffee-House, I must expect to be recognized
if so be I should chance to come upon those lobster-backs who were
there at that time. I have been thinking over your proposition that
I go out from the city by means of this skiff, and I am more than
inclined to believe it might be done.”
“But first let us hear what it was, Master Dingley, that you had to
say to Richard while you two were in the shop-yard?” young Chris
interrupted, and the spy replied:
“I will leave that for your comrade to tell you later. Just now it
behooves me to speak of other matters. Are you lads still of the mind
to take the chances of pulling down the Delaware in this craft?”
“Indeed we are,” I replied stoutly. “If so be you will take the risk
for yourself, we lads will chance it on our part, and I dare venture to
say that between now and daylight we shall not only have carried you to
some point beyond the British lines; but be back here with the skiff
safely hidden once more. The watch which the lobster-backs have been
keeping over us rebels of late is not as sharp as it might be.”
Now it may seem to some as if I spoke at random in thus declaring that
we could go out from our hiding place, run down the Delaware, and then
up the Schuylkill river so far as this man might want to go, while the
Britishers claimed that they kept sharp guard over both rivers.
It would seem at first sight almost impossible, and yet we lads had
come to know the movements of the guard-boats so well that unless
something unforeseen took place, we might venture to state positively
where this or that patrol would be at a given time.
I am not minded to make it appear as if there was no danger in the
enterprise, for surely there was, and in plenty.
If it should so chance that we lads were taken while we had Master
Dingley on board, and he was shown later to be the same man who had
been chased out of the London Coffee-House, then might we reasonably
expect to share the same fate as his, and all know what a spy meets
with when he has been taken within an enemy’s lines.
In addition to that, if after we had landed the man we were overhauled
by the Britishers, then would it be indeed difficult for us to explain
why we were abroad at that time of the night, for I am of the opinion
that neither Lord Howe, nor any of his officers, would accept as excuse
for us the fact that we were eager to go boating, and had simply hit by
chance upon such an hour.
Whether the odds were in our favor or against us, however, the die was
cast, as you might say, when we had made the proposition that we would
take Master Dingley away.
And now that he much the same as declared his willingness, as well
as his desire, that we should carry out that which was the same as a
promise, it behooved us to make ready for the enterprise in such manner
as if believing we might come to grief before it was ended.
In order to do this it was necessary we send some word to our people
at home, for while we might excuse ourselves because of having remained
away so long without announcing an intended absence, it would be little
less than cruelty to keep silence until morning, since all three of us
knew full well how deeply our mothers would mourn, believing we had
come into some trouble with the hirelings of the king who were ever so
ready to get us rebels on the hip.
There was no good reason why all should go out on such an errand, and
therefore it was I proposed that we cast lots to see who should be the
messenger.
To this young Chris made decided objections. He declared it was his
intention to know what secrets Master Dingley and I talked while we
were hidden in the old stable back of the shop off Black Horse alley,
and if so be the lot fell on him to carry word to our parents, then
would he miss the chance of gaining what he believed was valuable
information.
I was truly vexed with the lad because of his obstinacy, and for
bringing up such a trifling matter at a time when we were engaged in
work of grave import; but, luckily, before I could utter those angry
words which were already in my mouth, Jeremy said:
“I am well content to hear what Richard and Master Dingley may have
to tell us, at some later day, therefore, young Chris, if you are
determined the story must be told you at once, I will take it upon
myself to warn our people that we may be away from home mayhap four and
twenty hours.”
“Why make it such a long time?” young Chris asked grumblingly. “There
is no question but that we shall be back by daylight if we come at
all--”
“Do not speak so rashly, my young friend,” Master Dingley said gravely.
“There may be very many good reasons why it would be safer for you to
remain away from home eight and forty hours, or even longer, than to
return at once, therefore let your people know exactly what you are
about, and how many are the chances against your returning soon.”
Jeremy did not wait for any discussion on this point, but without
further delay started from amid the timbers to gain the outer air,
which was a work of no little time owing to the fact that he must first
assure himself the coast was clear before going into the open.
Young Chris and I, who had so often done that which Jeremy was now
doing, gave little heed to his movements, save as a matter of course
that we kept our ears open to hear any token of a mishap, and after
waiting two or three minutes, at the end of which time we could safely
calculate Jeremy was speeding on his way, young Chris said in a
peremptory tone:
“Now, if it please you, Richard Salter, we will hear what that great
secret is between you and Master Dingley.”
“It is no secret whatsoever, and a matter that could better have been
told you to-morrow, or the next day, than now. But since you are so
greedy for the information, and so jealous lest something had been said
of which you are not fully informed, I will explain the matter.”
Then it was that I told the lad what Master Dingley had said regarding
our forming a certain number of Philadelphia lads into a company of
Minute Boys, and straightway the baker’s son was in an ecstasy of joy.
It was to him a most happy idea, for Chris delights in being at the
head of whatever may be going on, and this enrolling himself as one of
the colony’s defenders, even though he might not be able to serve her
to advantage, was much to his liking.
Without stopping to consider the matter, he declared stoutly that we
could enroll no less than twenty lads in such a company, all of whom
would be ready to do whatsoever they might be called upon, and while
he was thus telling what a simple matter it would be, Master Dingley
interrupted him by saying gravely:
“Be cautious, lad. Remember that whomsoever you shall ask to join in
such an enterprise much the same as holds your life in his hands, and
make certain before you speak one word of your secret, that he to whom
you are talking may be trusted so long as life remains in his body.”
“I will answer for all of those lads whom I have in mind,” young Chris
replied carelessly, and I fancied that Master Dingley made a gesture
of impatience, for this matter which might turn so seriously for all
concerned, was being treated altogether too lightly by young Chris.
It behooved him, as well as all of us who were minded to join in the
enterprise, to realize fully with what danger it was attended. If we
formed the company, it should be with the knowledge that our lives
might pay the penalty, for if so be we were taken while carrying
information out of the city, or bringing it in, then was it certain we
would end our days on the scaffold.
It was as if Master Dingley understood that it would be useless to
argue with young Chris while he was so excited, and therefore held his
peace, as did I, while the baker’s son continued to name lad after
lad whom he would urge to become Minute Boys, many of whom I knew had
a leaning toward the king, or, if they failed to have any decided
opinions themselves, came of such rabid Tory stock that we could not
afford to give up our secret to them.
However, it matters little what I thought, or what young Chris said
just then. The work in hand was to carry Master Dingley beyond
the British lines, and in the doing of it we might meet with such
misadventure that there would be no Minute Boy business for us in this
world.
After a time young Chris grew weary with carrying on a conversation in
which neither the spy nor I joined, and during mayhap half an hour we
sat there silently in the _Jolly Rover_, hearing now and then the tramp
of the lobster-backs as they marched too and fro in squads to make
certain we rebels of Philadelphia were not plotting against the king,
when came sounds from outside which told that Jeremy was returning.
An instant later he was beside me, panting heavily as evidence that he
had been running at full speed, and unable for the moment to speak.
“Well?” young Chris asked impatiently, “have you seen all our people?”
“Yes,” Jeremy panted, “and none of them favored our going away.”
“Did my mother order me to return home?” I asked anxiously, and by this
time Jeremy had so far regained his breath that it was possible to
speak.
“She did not say you _must_ come, but it was easy to understand
her desire you should do so, and when I said that we had committed
ourselves to aiding Master Dingley, she held her peace, but looked
mightily discontented.”
“It is not my purpose, lad, to insist upon your carrying out the
promise made, for I understand full well how dangerous it may be,
if your parents are unwilling you should make the venture,” the spy
interrupted. “You have already done me a good turn, and if peradventure
you believe it your duty to stay here, then shall I go my way as best
may be, feeling that you lads have saved my life for a time, at all
events. If it is sacrificed now, it will be through no fault of yours.”
“We will go as was agreed,” young Chris cried impatiently. “I have no
doubt but that father would like to have me stay with him in order to
help in the bakery, but when work like this can be done by us lads, we
must not think about what those at home may have to say regarding it.”
“That is where you make a grievous mistake, my lad,” Master Dingley
said gravely. “Your first duty is toward your parents; then shall come
the colony, if you please. But until you are men grown, remember that
the only safe plan is to act as your mother, who surely is a lad’s best
friend, would have you.”
“There is no question in my mind whatsoever but that if we were this
moment in our homes, and should state exactly what had occurred during
the day, there would be no protest made against our going with you,
sir,” I interrupted, determined that whether we formed a company of
Minute Boys or not, I would have a hand in this saving of a human life,
at the same time that we got the best of the lobster-backs.
“It shall be as you say, lads, although my mind would be easier if you
went with your parents’ consent. Now when shall we set out?” the spy
asked in a low tone, whereupon I replied, before young Chris had an
opportunity:
“At once. There is no reason why we should make delay, save to be
certain the river is clear, and then I propose that we creep down
within the shadow of the bank until we are a goodly distance from here,
after which, unless matters have changed greatly of late, we shall, I
believe, be beyond the point of danger.”
Without waiting for the word, Jeremy crept out toward the water’s edge
where was an overhanging plank that afforded us a famous resting place
while we spied upon the lobster-backs, and within five minutes he came
back, giving us the welcome information that there was no guard-boat in
sight.
After that we lost no time. There were few preparations to make, save
that of pushing the skiff out from beneath the timbers, which was a
task requiring considerable strength, because we were forced to tip her
first this way and then that, in order to avoid the planks which ran on
either side considerably nearer the water than her height would admit
of passage.
In this work Master Dingley aided us not a little, and within mayhap
fifteen minutes from the time Jeremy had come back, we were out of
the hiding place, creeping cautiously well within the shadow of the
right-hand shore as we started on the dangerous enterprise.
Save for the twinkling of the lights from the fleet, and the hum of
voices which came to us from over the water as the sailors lounged
around the decks of the war vessels talking, there were no signs of
life.
Shoreward, in our immediate vicinity, it was dark as a negro’s pocket,
with never a sound betokening the presence of human beings, and Jeremy
whispered in my ear as we two worked one oar while Master Dingley and
young Chris worked the other, that it was a good token we had got away
thus readily.
I nervously bade him hold his peace. Until we were really committed to
the work, I had failed to realize all the dangers, but now that we were
afloat where the lobster-backs might come upon us at any moment, my
heart began to fail me.
While I would not have turned back now that my hand was on the plow,
so to speak, it would have pleased me wondrously if we had never come
across Master Dingley, however eager I was to do whatsoever lay in my
power to aid the colonies.
If we could go out with the soldiers and stand up in manly fashion
against the Britishers, then might I be proud; but this aiding a spy,
with a shameful death before us if we were captured, was something to
make the cold chills of fear run up and down a fellow’s spine.
However, we were embarked in the enterprise, and it stood me in hand to
do whatsoever I might toward making it a success, because of the price
which failure would cost.
There was little we could do just then, save to row as swiftly as was
consistent with silence, for we dared not lift the oars so that any
noise might be made, because, as everyone knows, the water carries
sound a long distance, and even while hidden from view, we might betray
our whereabouts through carelessness.
We were forced to keep on down the river in order to come to the mouth
of the Schuylkill, and in so doing must pass all the king’s ships. If
peradventure some officer was putting off from the Philadelphia side
to go to his vessel, and we were come just at that time nearabout his
course, then were we in danger.
You can well fancy, as we neared the huge craft, with what caution we
worked the oars. It was as if I hardly dared to breathe; as though the
sound of my heart-beats would give the alarm, and before we were five
minutes on our way I was dripping with perspiration, caused, I am free
to confess, by fear, while I was almost as wet as if I had gone over
the skiff into the water.
I have talked later with lads who claimed that it was impossible the
smallest skiff could make her way, even during the darkest night, past
all that fleet where it was reasonable to suppose the sharpest of sharp
watch was kept; but yet that we did, going our course without being
hailed by man or boy, by lobster-back or patriot.
If we had had the power to direct events according to our own pleasure,
matters could not have worked more favorably for us, because, as I now
look back upon that short voyage, it seems to me almost beyond belief
that we could have done what we did without bringing about our ears a
very nest of red-backed hornets.
Now in order that you may know how the lobster-backs guarded our city
of Philadelphia, and what danger we lads were running our noses into, I
count to set down here that which I have read within the week, and it
was written by one who has seen it drawn out in clerkly fashion on a
map belonging to General Howe.
“The line of intrenchments from the Delaware to the Schuylkill extended
from the mouth of the creek just above Willow street to the upper ferry
on the Schuylkill. They consisted of ten redoubts connected by strong
palisades. The first redoubt, which was garrisoned by the Queen’s
Rangers under Simcoe, was near the forks of the roads leading to
Frankford and Kensington. The second redoubt was a little west of North
Second and Noble streets; the third between North Fifth and Sixth and
Noble and Buttonwood streets; the fourth on Eighth street between Noble
and Buttonwood; the fifth on Tenth between Buttonwood and Pleasant; the
sixth on Buttonwood between Thirteenth and North Broad; the seventh
on North Schuylkill Eighth between Pennsylvania avenue and Hamilton
street; the eighth on North Schuylkill Fifth and Pennsylvania avenue;
the ninth on North Schuylkill Second near Callowhill street, and the
tenth on the bank of the Schuylkill at the upper ferry.
“The encampment extended westward from North Fifth, between Vine and
Callowhill, as far as North Schuylkill Second. The Hessian grenadiers
were encamped between Callowhill, Noble, Fifth and Seventh streets.
The Fourth, Fortieth and Fifty-fifth British grenadiers, and a body of
fusileers, were on the north side of Callowhill, between Seventh and
Fourteenth streets. Eight regiments lay upon the high ground around
Bush’s hill, extending from Fourteenth, nearly on a line with Vine, to
the upper ferry.
“Near the redoubt at the Ferry was another body of Hessians. The
Yagers, horse and foot, were encamped upon that hill near the corner of
North Schuylkill, Front and Pennsylvania avenue. On the Ridge Road near
Thirteenth street, and on Eighth, near Green, were corps of infantry.
Light dragoons and three regiments of infantry were posted near the
pond between Vine, Race, North Eighth and Twelfth streets. A little
below the middle ferry, at the foot of Chestnut street, was a fascine
redoubt, and near it the Seventy-first regiment was encamped. Some
Yagers were stationed at the Point House opposite Gloucester.
“When winter set in, many of the troops and all the officers, occupied
the public buildings and houses of the inhabitants, also the British
barracks in the Northern Liberties. The artillery were quartered in
Chestnut street between Third and Sixth street, and the State House
yard was made a park for their use. During the winter, General Howe
occupied a house on High street where Washington afterwards resided;
his brother, Lord Howe, lived in Chestnut street; General Knyphausen
lived in South Second opposite Little Dock street. Cornwallis’ quarters
were in Second above Spruce street, and Major Andre lived in Dr.
Franklin’s house in a court back from High street.”
Thus it is you can see that our city was literally filled with
lobster-backs, and not only the city, but the banks of the river,
while in the stream itself lay their ships-of-war, and we three lads
were forcing ourselves to believe we could move at will, carrying
information to our people at Valley Forge, or wheresoever it might be
wanted, without running into these red-coated scoundrels who had come
overseas to whip us into loving the king.
I believe now it would have been wiser had we gone boldly up the
Delaware beyond Frankford, and there let Master Dingley take his
chances of going across country to the Schuylkill; but he had spoken
as if the only way for us to proceed would be to pull down the river
as far as League island and then up the Schuylkill, therefore, without
considering how much more of danger lay in that route than the other, I
had consented.
Therefore was our journey more than three times what it should have
been had we proceeded, as I now believe, with more of common sense in
our methods.
CHAPTER III
SKINNY BAKER
Now, after having set down all dangers which compassed us, as if making
ready to tell some tale of wondrous adventure, I am forced to come
down from my high horse and say that we sailed, or rather rowed, the
boat directly around the city until we were come to the Falls of the
Schuylkill, without having been hailed by man or child.
Here it was, as a matter of course, that Master Dingley counted to
set off by himself, and when he would have praised us for what we had
done in his behalf, I know full well that my cheeks were mantled with
shame, for children half our age could have performed the work equally
as well under the same circumstances; but yet he put it as if we had
accomplished what might have been brought about by none others.
It was a little past midnight when we pulled up under a clump of bushes
that he might step ashore, and waited there to hear what he had to say
regarding our forming a company of Minute Boys.
Until this moment we had not ventured to speak one with another, save
in the most cautious of whispers, and only on such matters as were
absolutely necessary for the working of the craft. But now we were in
comparative safety, he harked back to his proposition that we band
ourselves together in a company for the purpose of doing whatsoever we
might to aid the colonies, and took down our names, together with such
information as would serve to show him where we lived if peradventure
he came into the city, or sent another who would seek us out.
The result of all his talk was, as might be supposed, the agreement on
our part to do, without loss of time, exactly as he had proposed.
We even went so far as to say that he might, on any day at the hour
of noon, find one of us three lads loitering roundabout the front of
the London Coffee-House, agreeing to go there regularly as if it was a
post of duty, and to hold ourselves in readiness to perform whatsoever
anyone, who could show to our satisfaction that he had come from the
American camp, should desire us to do.
“I’m thinking that before a week has passed I shall visit at the home
of one or another of you lads, for now that you have agreed to do
that which will provide us with means of sending information out from
the city, whosoever goes there to spy upon the Britishers may remain,
without taking the many chances of detection by going out himself
frequently.”
Then Master Dingley had very much more to say regarding our duties,
and of what value we might be to the colonies, all of which it is not
necessary I should set down here, for if so be I ever bring to an end
this poor attempt at a story of the Minute Boys of Philadelphia, you
will see, as one incident follows another, that which he had set for us
to do.
He lost no time after receiving our promises that we would get together
immediately to raise our company of Minute Boys, and also that one
or another of us would be in front of the London Coffee-House each
day; but then left us, moving away at a swift pace as though minded to
finish his journey before sunrise, if indeed that might be possible.
It would have pleased me right well if we could have stayed there
within the shelter of the bushes during a certain time, for I was
wearied as if having labored severely, when, as a matter of fact, I
had worked no harder than I would have worked had we been out on a
pleasure voyage. The anxiety, the fear that we might come suddenly upon
the lobster-backs, was what had worn me down almost to the verge of
exhaustion; yet I knew that we must continue on, for unless our journey
was done before daybreak, and our skiff back in her old hiding place,
then were we come to grief.
Therefore it was that immediately Master Dingley disappeared amid the
bushes, we pulled the _Jolly Rover_ out into the stream, and, having
grown careless, I suppose, because of coming thus far in safety without
meeting any who might do us an ill turn, instead of taking due heed
to remain within the shadow of the bank, we kept the middle of the
river, giving little or no heed to the noise which might be made by the
oars. As young Chris said, it would be time enough to creep along at
a snail’s pace while remaining hidden from view, when we were come to
where there was chance of being overhauled by the red-coats.
But however boldly we might go on, our progress was not so rapid but
that there were signs in the eastern sky of coming day when we neared
Gilson’s point, and even a blind man could have said that we would not
be able to gain Dock creek before the sun had fairly shown himself.
All this at the moment did not seem of very great importance. We could
readily enough find a hiding place for our skiff during a twelve-hours,
and strike across the city to our homes, contenting ourselves with the
knowledge that we would return next night to carry the _Jolly Rover_
back to Dock creek.
Therefore it was at the next clump of bushes, or rather thicket, which
we came upon, the skiff was run up on the bank, and we spent no little
time in hiding her securely amid the foliage, after which we set off at
a rapid pace for home, having, as it may well be supposed, an eye out
for any straggling lobster-backs.
Strange as it may seem, it was not a Britisher who brought us for the
time being to grief, but rather one of our people--I might almost say
one of our own comrades.
When the day had fully dawned we were no less than a mile from Chestnut
street. Then was the time when it seemed that we might safely come upon
any number of Britishers, for surely lads of our age were likely to be
out thus early in the morning, for pleasure, if not on some household
errand.
We were walking carelessly along, feeling that the matter which we had
in hand was well finished, and congratulating ourselves that, lads
though we were, we had within the past four and twenty hours saved the
life of a man who was struggling to aid in this war against the king.
Suddenly we came upon Benjamin Baker, “Skinny” we called him, a lad for
whom I never had any great affection, nor did I consider him an enemy,
save in so far as his father was a rabid Tory.
Now if I had had my wits about me, I would have seen by the expression
on Skinny’s face that he knew more concerning our movements than we
could readily suspect, for there was a certain ugly leer upon his face
as he halted us by coming to a full stop directly in our path, as he
asked:
“Are you lads out often as early as this?”
“It seems we are out no earlier than you, Skinny,” young Chris said
with a laugh, and would have pushed the lad aside in order to continue
on his way, but that Skinny stopped him very suddenly and caused the
faces of us all to whiten, as he asked in a meaning tone:
“Why did you leave your skiff down by the Point? Why not have come
around in her?”
While one might have counted twenty we three stood staring at him in
open-mouthed astonishment, and then I managed to ask in a voice which I
knew was tremulous with fear:
“How do you chance to know whether we left the boat anywhere or not?”
And then I added like the simple that my timorousness had made me, “we
haven’t been out in a boat this many a day.”
“And yet you hid one in the thicket, Richard Salter. As a matter of
fact, I chance to know that you came down the Schuylkill. From where, I
can’t say; but my idea is that if the king’s servants should know you
had been spending the night on the river, it would be necessary to make
some explanation.”
For the life of me I could not have made reply to the lad at that
moment; but young Chris, whose temper is prone to rise beyond all
bounds of prudence, caught him roughly by the shoulder as he asked
angrily:
“Have you been spying upon us, Skinny Baker? Have you dared to follow
us this night?”
“And what if I have? Who shall bring me to account? Surely you three,
who must have been engaged in some business which has to do with the
rebels, will not dare question me.”
“You shall see whether we dare or not!” Chris cried in a rage as he
seized Skinny by the throat, and for the instant I believed it was in
his mind to throttle the lad, therefore I sprang forward, catching him
by the arm as I said warningly:
“Be careful, Chris, be careful!”
Before I could say more, Skinny Baker, an evil look on his ugly face,
said in a tone as of triumph:
“Ay, Richard Salter, young Chris, as well as you and Jeremy Hapgood,
have reason to be careful with me now. I have long had it in mind
that you would play into the hands of the rebels if so be you had the
chance, and now I know it for a verity.”
“How do you know it?” Jeremy cried, and Skinny said, speaking slowly as
though it gave him the greatest pleasure to torture us:
“I know it because I saw you going down the Delaware when there were
four in your skiff, and I followed along the bank until having come to
the Point, where I waited, thinking you must return that way. Where is
he whom you had with you?”
I verily believe anyone could have knocked me down with a feather, so
to speak, when the churlish lad thus gave us to understand that he was
in possession of our secret. I knew full well it was in his heart to
use it to our harm whenever he had the opportunity, and of a verity
there would not be lacking chances in our city of Philadelphia for him
to impart to enemies of the Cause such information as he had stolen.
We three lads stood gazing at each other in dismay, while Skinny,
looking first at one and then another, grinned with delight, for he
well knew how much of fear he had caused us.
It might have been better for him if he had been willing to delay his
triumph a while longer; but the evil-minded Tory must needs make it yet
more plain that he held us under his thumb, and said jeeringly:
“And now, unless I am mightily mistaken, it is I who will do the
fiddling while you dance to my tune.”
I can’t say what there was in the words which caused me to have a
clearer understanding of the situation than I would otherwise have
gained, owing to my great fear; but on the instant there came into my
mind like a flash of light that this fellow’s tongue must be stopped at
any hazard. That it was for our own safety he be put out of the way.
Not for a moment did I dream of committing a crime; but by putting him
out of the way, I meant that in some manner, such as had not come into
my mind as yet, he must be silenced, or we stood good chance of being
hanged.
Young Chris, in obedience to my gesture of a few seconds previous, had
released his hold of Skinny’s throat, and now it was my turn to grab
the Tory by the neck, holding myself ready to choke him if he should
make any outcry, as I said hurriedly to Jeremy and Chris:
“This fellow knows so much that if we allow him to go free this moment,
we are likely to find ourselves under that beast of a Cummingham’s
thumb, for to prison we shall surely go if he wags his tongue!”
“And how may we stop him?” Jeremy asked in a tremulous tone, whereupon
I replied, speaking from impulse as it were:
“That I know not just now. At least, at such an early hour, unless
peradventure we come across a squad of lobster-backs, we should be able
to force him to go with us to the old hiding place where we have kept
the skiff, and once there we must decide upon some plan for keeping his
tongue quiet.”
I believe of a verity that the cowardly cur thought we had it in mind
to kill him, for straightway all expression of triumph faded from his
face, and but for my hold on his throat he would have begged, like the
coward that he was, for mercy.
He did succeed in uttering a few words; but I was not in the mood to
listen to what he might say, for though he had promised until he was
black in the face to hold his peace, I never would have given him
credit of keeping the truth.
It was his liberty against our lives, and if so be any venture, however
bold, could save us, I was determined it should be the Tory who would
suffer.
Had it been an hour later in the day, I question whether we could have
forced Skinny along, for whoever had seen us, with me clutching him by
the throat, while Jeremy and young Chris prodded him from behind, would
have known that he was a prisoner.
Realizing that the instant my grasp upon his neck was relaxed ever so
slightly, he would shout for help, and he was already pale with fear,
I was forced to keep him half-choked, while but for Jeremy and young
Chris alternately pushing and pulling, he would not have advanced a
pace.
As it was, however, we succeeded in forcing him at reasonably good
speed, and, as we had been during the night, so were we now, favored by
fortune, for save here and there a servant girl out on some errand, we
met no person until we were come within two squares of our destination.
Then there appeared suddenly, coming from around the corner of Second
street, a squad of lobster-backs who were beginning their work of the
day by marching to and fro, with the hope of finding some so-called
rebel who had transgressed General Howe’s laws so far as to bring him
within their power.
It seemed to me that at that moment were we come to the end of our
rope, and had it not been for Jeremy I truly believe I must have turned
tail and run at my best pace, leaving Skinny Baker to go wheresoever he
would.
“Keep right on, boys; keep on and make them think it is all in the way
of sport,” Jeremy said in a hoarse whisper, as he pushed Skinny yet
harder, and began at the same time to cry out that he should soon learn
what it meant to be ducked.
“The odds are that we shall find ourselves in the guard-house mighty
soon,” young Chris said, and I could almost fancy that his teeth were
chattering with fear.
Yet he could do no better than follow the advice given by Jeremy,
because there was no other course to be pursued, unless we would desert
the prisoner, leaving him free to tell all he knew concerning us.
It is impossible for me to so set it down that you can understand how
terrified I was as we rapidly approached the British squad, for I had
no faith whatsoever that Jeremy’s plan would work, and if, when we were
come within a dozen paces of them, the corporal who was in command had
called upon me to speak, I believe it would have been beyond my power.
He did call upon one of us, however, and it was Jeremy who acted the
part of spokesman--Jeremy who proved himself brave, braver than either
Chris or I, for he said laughingly, as if it were one of the best jokes
he had ever heard:
“This lad believes Washington’s ragamuffin army can march into
Philadelphia whenever it feels so disposed, and we are taking him down
to the creek where we count on washing some of the rebel ideas out of
him.”
“Dip him deep, lads,” the corporal cried laughingly, making no attempt
to stop us. “It is a pity you couldn’t have more of the rebels to serve
in the same fashion, for were I in command of this city there would be
less treason talked. Dip him deep!”
“Ay, that we will, sir, never fear. I am not certain that we won’t
anchor him out where he can soak for a while,” Jeremy replied, still
laughing, and at the same time doing all within his power to force
Skinny on at a yet swifter pace.
That which I have just set down had hardly more than been spoken when
we were past the squad, and hurrying as we had never hurried before to
gain that poor shelter on Dock creek.
Then it was that young Chris, looking back to make certain the
red-coats were not inclined to follow us in order to see the sport,
called out to me that unless I was minded to kill Skinny Baker then and
there, it would be best I unloosened my hold upon his throat.
Indeed it was time I did so, for the fellow was literally blue in the
face when I looked at him. Until this instant I had failed to realize
how much force I was exerting, and if peradventure young Chris had
not seen him in time, I verily believe I should have killed the lad
unwittingly.
Then, when I did release my grasp, and the fellow could draw a long
breath, instead of talking with us like a decent lad, he must needs
go to begging and imploring, as if he believed it was in our minds to
slaughter him as we would a pig.
Even though I had had any sympathy in my mind prior to that moment, it
would have all vanished with those cowardly words. Instead of making
reply, we forced him on, Jeremy saying in a tone which told he was
making no idle threat, that unless Skinny went on at his best pace he
would prod him in the back with his pocket knife.
Skinny quickened his steps. In fact, had we told him to do anything
whatsoever that lay within his power, so frightened was the cur that
he would have attempted it without making protest, and it would have
pleased me right well to have pummeled him severely, not because of the
threats he had made against us, but because he was showing himself such
a poltroon.
“We’ll soon have him under cover,” Jeremy said as if believing that
young Chris and I needed heartening, and I could not refrain from
asking:
“What then? If we get him under cover, how long may we keep him there?
Surely we must set the fellow at liberty before night falls.”
“That shall depend upon himself,” Jeremy replied much as though he had
already formed some plan for the future. “If he refuses to do as we
say, then will I hold him there a prisoner till the crack of doom, if
so be he and I stay on this earth till then.”
I verily believe I was almost as much dismayed by Jeremy’s threat as
by what Skinny had said when he first met us, for it seemed as if we
were sinking deeper and deeper into a mire from which there could be no
escape.
We had begun this piece of work by aiding a spy, and thereby bringing
upon ourselves the shadow of the gallows. Now had we grown so bold as
to make prisoner of a lad whose Tory father would unquestionably have
no slight influence with General Howe.
However, we had made our bed, and must lie in it. The question to be
decided was, not what would please us, but how we might best shut this
fellow’s mouth, and that was indeed a serious matter. Let him once be
free of us, regardless of how many oaths he had taken to keep secret
that which had been done this night, he would break them as a child
breaks a bunch of straws, for there was no truth in the lad, as we
fellows had known this many a day.
As a matter of course, we pushed on at our best pace, for if
peradventure we met another squad of lobster-backs, it might not be
possible to shut their eyes as readily as we had those who were just
passed, and our present safety lay in getting beneath that pile of
lumber where there were at least a few chances we might escape being
taken by General Howe’s men.
You may rest assured that we hustled Skinny beneath the decaying
timbers, once we were come to the lumber pile, as rapidly as might be,
and in so doing were we putting ourselves yet farther in his power, for
he would know the secret of our hiding place.
If he escaped us to tell his story to the lobster-backs, then must
we find some other refuge, if indeed we were allowed to go free
sufficiently long to seek one.
I verily believe Skinny thought he was being taken to the place of his
murder, when we forced him to his hands and knees, for one could not
gain the shelter save by creeping. It was necessary we literally shove
him along in order to make any advance; but once we were come inside
where no less than thirty lads might have found a fairly good resting
place, the expression of fear on his face faded somewhat, and I dare
venture to say it came on mine instead.
There was no evading the fact that, having gone so far as we had on
this road which was pointed out to us by Master Dingley, we must hold
Skinny for no one could say how long, since it was imprudent to depend
upon his word; and how might that be done, I asked myself.
Perhaps it was well for me that at this time Jeremy, having an eye
to our necessities and our situation, proposed that he go out to our
homes in order to say we were come safely back to Philadelphia, and,
perhaps, to explain in what situation we were, as well as to get food
sufficient to last us during four and twenty hours.
This was no more than a necessity, and I bade the lad go with all
speed, urging that he make the matter of as little importance to my
mother as might be, lest she, dear soul, should die with anxiety.
Now it was that young Chris, having succeeded in doing his share of
carrying Master Dingley to a place of safety, began to take upon
himself the airs of a leader, and insisted that he also must go out,
leaving me to guard the prisoner, at the same time claiming that there
was no real need more than one of us should remain on duty at a time.
It was true I could take care of Skinny, so far as preventing him from
making any outcry or escaping was concerned; but at the same time I was
not pleased to remain there alone, although I can hardly say why.
However, there was nothing I, or in fact anyone, could say to change
young Chris’ mind after it was once made up, and when Jeremy hastened
out in order to take advantage of the hour, for the lobster-backs would
not be abroad in any numbers so early in the morning, the baker’s son
went with him, while Skinny and I were left in that dreary hiding
place, facing each other much, I fancy, like two Kilkenny cats who only
await the opportunity to spring one upon the other.
I was not in the mood for conversation, having so much of disagreeable
forebodings in my mind that I could give heed to little else than the
situation into which we had plunged ourselves; but Skinny, eager, as
a matter of course, to learn what he might regarding our plans as they
affected himself, asked in a whining tone, when mayhap we had remained
silent three or four minutes:
“How long do you count on keeping me here?”
“That depends, Master Baker, considerably upon yourself, and yet more
upon our willingness to take your word. You must understand that we
cannot afford to let you go free to carry to the lobster-backs that
information which you have gained this night by spying.”
“But unless you kill me outright, I must go at some time. It is
impossible you can keep me here many days, even though you would dare
do such a thing, for my father will speedily seek the city through in
search of me.”
I knew full well we could not keep him there very long, and it was
that which was causing me the greatest anxiety, yet I was not disposed
to let the fellow see that the situation worried me in the slightest
degree; but replied with as much of carelessness as I could assume:
“It remains to be seen how long we can keep you here, and also whether
it will be possible for your father, seek as he may, to find you while
we remain hidden here. We have had this lumber pile as a rendezvous
ever since the lobster-backs marched into Philadelphia, and as yet it
has been undiscovered.”
“That may be,” Skinny replied with a world of truth in his words; “but
until to-day there has never been any serious reason for seeking you
out. I dare venture to say I am the first prisoner you have attempted
to take, and now is come the time when the people of the town, meaning
those who are ready to obey the king, will be in arms against you.”
“All of which may be true,” I said with a laugh which had in it little
of mirth. “But at the same time, Skinny, you are bound to stay with
us until we can decide upon some way of letting you go free without
danger to ourselves. If so be you should make any attempt at getting
away while I am on guard, let me warn you that, in order to save my own
life, I would take yours with no more hesitation than I would crush a
fly.”
“You would commit murder?” and Skinny’s face paled, as I could see even
in the gloom.
“I could kill you and not call it murder.”
“Yet you rebels make a great howl about that which the king’s men do,
if so be they take the life of one of your kidney,” the cur said with a
snarl which sounded to me much like the hiss of an angry cat.
“The lobster-backs kill those whose only crime consists in striving
to free themselves from the burdens which the king has put upon them,
while whatever we might do to you would be in order to save our own
lives, therefore do I believe we might be warranted in doing it.”
This was not a very pleasant conversation for Skinny, as can well
be imagined. After looking at me sharply as if to learn from the
expression on my face whether I would really dare carry out the threat,
he fell silent, and we two sat there facing each other, I ready to
spring upon him at the first move he should make giving token that he
was counting on trying to escape, and meanwhile counting the seconds as
they passed, complaining to myself because young Chris had left me
thus alone.
[Illustration: “I COULD KILL YOU AND NOT CALL IT MURDER.”]
I was not overly eager to have the son of the baker as companion that
we might converse on pleasant subjects, for the time had gone by when
I could make cheery talk with anyone, at least, until after I was out
of this hobble; but it seemed that two of us should be on guard, if
peradventure it became necessary for one to go outside, and I dare
venture to say that just then I felt quite as timorous and fearful of
the future as did the prisoner.
How long we two remained there alone I am unable to say; but certain
it is that it seemed to me as if a full day had passed before I heard
those sounds which betokened the coming of a friend, for a friend it
must be who approached us boldly, since I was firmly convinced that the
secret of our hiding place had not been discovered.
It was Jeremy, good, faithful Jeremy, who went about whatsoever he had
to do in a business-like manner, wasting no time, not eager to win for
himself the applause of others; but ever striving to do with all his
might that which was set him as a task whether in behalf of his friends
or himself.
The lad was literally laden with the provisions he had gathered, and
said with a long-drawn breath as he shoved a bag in front of me:
“There, thankful am I that the stuff is here at last! I feared each
moment to be overhauled by some of the lobster-backs who would be
curious to know what I was carrying in this bag, and had come almost to
believe that I should never get here.”
“Did you see my mother, Jeremy?”
“Ay, that I did, Richard, and she greatly fears you have undertaken
more than a lad should.”
“In that she differs not greatly from myself,” I said, striving to
smile, but making a wry face instead. “Did she say aught concerning my
coming home?”
“Only that you must look well to your own safety, and if so be there
was danger in your coming to Drinker’s alley, it were best you stayed
away a month.”
“And how about your own mother, Jeremy?”
The lad made a grimace, which told plainer than words could have
done that he had met with much opposition at home when he would have
returned to the lumber pile, and there was no need of explanation.
“And now, what about Chris?”
“He has taken it into his head that the time is at hand when he must
gather together the company of Minute Boys, and instead of thinking of
that which we have on hand, he is going here and there like a dog who
seeks a bone, striving to enlist recruits.”
I was literally astounded by this information. It verily seemed as if
young Chris was determined to increase our troubles rather than do
whatsoever he might toward lessening them.
This was no time in which to raise recruits for a company of Minute
Boys, because if peradventure he should speak with one who was not
inclined to join, and willing at some later date to reveal what had
been said, then was the secret of our absence and the knowledge of
our hiding somewhere near at hand with a prisoner, much the same as
discovered.
“What shall we do, Jeremy?” I cried in despair. “It would seem that
young Chris is determined to work us all the harm he may.”
“Ay, so it is in my mind, Richard, and yet what is there we can
do, save strive to get ourselves out of this hobble in which that
villainous Skinny has plunged us, giving no heed to what young Chris
may do? You understand quite as well as I, that even if we had him here
this instant, and he was determined to go out seeking recruits for a
company of Minute Boys, he would set off despite all you or I might say
to him, so pig-headed is the lad when he takes a whim into his head.”
I knew full well that Jeremy spoke no more than the truth. If my heart
had been heavy before, verily it was like unto lead now, for the
dangers were seemingly growing thicker about us, and I could see no way
out of the mire into which we had been led by our desire to aid Master
Dingley.
CHAPTER IV
THE RECRUITS
Even though I was so woefully distressed in mind, yet did I have a
hearty appetite for that which Jeremy had brought, and Skinny showed
that the fear of death was not so heavy upon him but that he could
eat like a glutton, for we two fell upon the food as if we had been
famished, eating like friends and enjoying every mouthful.
Meanwhile Jeremy told us of what he had seen around town, which was
nothing of great importance either to the Cause or to us while we were
thus mired, as you might say, with a prisoner.
After the meal had come to an end, and I am free to confess that we ate
more rapidly than lads who are supposed to have had a decent bringing
up should eat, we, meaning Jeremy and I, talked of this and that
concerning ourselves, but never once speaking of the present situation,
or of what the lobster-backs might do to us of Philadelphia in time to
come.
It was as if we dared not give words to the thoughts which would come
into our minds, and we therefore spoke on indifferent subjects, as if
it was a relief to thus put far from us all the dangers that hung so
thickly.
Because of knowing that young Chris was engaged in raising recruits
for our company of Minute Boys, I had no expectation of seeing him
until perhaps another night had come, therefore was my surprise great
when within two hours after Jeremy’s arrival we heard the sounds of
whispered voices in that passage between the timbers which led to our
hiding place.
An instant later young Chris made his appearance, followed by three
lads, all of whom I believed I had reason to know were friends to the
Cause.
They were Harvey Norris, Sam Elder, and Timothy Bowers; good lads and
true as I believed, and yet I would not have had them there at that
time.
“Talk about raising a company of Minute Boys,” young Chris exclaimed in
a tone of triumph. “Why I could recruit a regiment in four and twenty
hours, if it was necessary. Look you here! The first three I came
across, and all standing ready to do whatsoever they may for the Cause,
knowing that we are like to be called upon for dangerous service--”
“Do they know in what kind of a hobble we are this moment?” Jeremy
asked grimly, and Tim Bowers replied as if he was thoroughly well
satisfied with the situation:
“Ay, that we do, Jeremy, and if it is a case of holding Skinny Baker
prisoner here during the remainder of this year, I promise faithfully
not to complain at having to perform my part of guarding him.”
The other lads made much the same talk; but, nevertheless, I was not
easy in mind. The first that I had with which to find fault was the
coming of so many into our hiding place.
It was not probable that six lads, as we now numbered, could come in
and out from beneath the lumber pile without finally attracting the
attention of the lobster-backs. Once they were grown curious as to why
we crawled among the timbers, the secret of our hiding place would
speedily be made known, and if peradventure Skinny Baker remained at
that time our prisoner, then was the whole fabric of the Minute Boys of
Philadelphia come to the ground.
However, the mischief, if mischief it was, had been done, and it was
useless for me to borrow trouble when there was no possibility of
avoiding it. Therefore, striving as best I might to put on a pleasant
face, I asked young Chris what he had learned in the city.
It appeared from his conversation that he had given no attention to
anything whatsoever save the raising of recruits. In fact, he had
not even considered it necessary to go home in order to relieve his
mother’s anxiety; but, finding these three lads ready to join in that
proposition made by Master Dingley, he must needs come back to where
Jeremy and I were, in order to acquaint us with what he considered his
good fortune, instead of trying to make out, as I believed we should
do, whether the British officers who had come upon the spy at the
London Coffee-House, were yet minded to search for him.
And there was another element of danger in this work of young Chris’s,
which I failed to heed until after it was too late to remedy the matter.
He had, and I am free to confess that I was equally guilty, spoken
of our company of Minute Boys in the presence of Skinny Baker, who,
unless he was a veritable simple, could understand all that we
proposed to do.
More than this, while Sam and his comrades were telling of their
willingness to do whatever might be required, the name of Master
Dingley was mentioned several times, and thus was it that Skinny Baker
could put together all the story of our wanderings during the night
previous.
If he should succeed in making his escape, he could tell to the
lobster-backs every thing of so-called treason to the king with which
we were engaged, and, in addition, he had sealed the doom of Master
Dingley if so be he should be captured.
Well, the mischief was done, and now were there greater reasons why
Skinny must be held close prisoner, therefore it was I put the matter
plainly to these new comrades who were so proud in calling themselves
Minute Boys of Philadelphia, asking how we should divide our time, for
it was not reasonable more than two need remain on duty at once.
Before we were well into the discussion, for a discussion did ensue
owing to young Chris, who claimed that he would take sole charge of
the matter, Skinny came to realize more plainly than ever before, that
we counted on keeping him there so long as our safety demanded it, and
he would have been a simple indeed if he did not understand that such
period of time meant during the stay of the lobster-backs in our city.
“Look here,” he said in a tone between a whine and a sniffle, “you
fellows can’t hold me a prisoner very long. You are bound to get into
trouble for what you have done already, and every hour you keep me
here only makes it worse.”
“Oh, we can’t keep you, eh?” young Chris cried jeeringly. “Well, you
will find, my fine buck, that we can hold you as long as we choose, and
the way matters look at present, that will be quite a spell. In fact,
I see no chance of your getting out of here until your friends, the
lobster-backs, have left the city.”
“The British troops left the city!” Skinny cried in alarm. “Why you
must be crazy to think of such a thing! They are like to be here this
many a year, for when the king has whipped you rebels as you need to be
whipped, then will a force of his troops remain here to see that you
don’t do further mischief.”
Skinny’s anger had led him to give way to his temper, and the last
words he spoke were very much in the nature of a threat, causing young
Chris to leap upon the prisoner as if he was minded to do him bodily
harm.
“Do you dare threaten us, and tell about what is to be done to rebels?”
he cried, giving voice so loudly that I leaped forward, clapping my
hand over his mouth, for certain it was if any had been passing the
lumber pile just then they would have heard the outcry.
“You must remember where you are, Chris Ludwig!” I cried, and now it
was my turn to show anger. “Are you minded to betray to any who may be
near at hand our hiding place, when you know what would be the result
if we were taken prisoners? Where is the harm if Skinny makes threats?
That is all he can do, and, to tell the truth, I have a better liking
for the cur when he shows some bit of spirit, rather than whining like
a baby as he has done since we first captured him.”
Young Chris struggled to throw off my grasp, as if it was still his
intent to strike the prisoner, and then it was that Jeremy took a hand
in what was rapidly becoming a scrimmage, by laying hold of the lad’s
arm and literally dragging him back to the further end of the cave-like
hiding place, saying in a tone which could not be misunderstood:
“If so be you are minded to play the fool, young Chris, then has it
come time for me to get out of your company, and leave this Minute Boy
association which has hardly yet been formed, for I have no desire to
show myself on the scaffold, as is like to be the case if you continue
in this hot-headed manner!”
But for the fact that Jeremy was not given to making vain threats, I
believe young Chris would have insisted upon pummeling Skinny because
of what he had said. But he knew full well that this comrade of ours
did not indulge in idle words, and therefore it was he held his peace,
although with very ill grace, and now was added another to the many
troubles I had come upon since we first met Master Dingley.
It was Tim Bowers who attempted to straighten out matters,
understanding that young Chris’s ill temper might bring us all into
trouble, and he said in a matter-of-fact tone:
“If so be we are to form ourselves into a company of Minute Boys, and
if also we are to do such things as are like to bring our necks within
a British halter, then it seems to me wise we should decide which one
shall be our leader. Let us choose a captain now, since there are six
of us who are disposed to make up the company, and agree solemnly that
each and every one will obey instantly any command he may give.”
There was nothing more than good sense in this remark, and I had it in
mind to say that Jeremy Hapgood should be chosen captain of the Minute
Boys, when the lad himself spoke up:
“It is Richard Salter who shall act as captain of this company,
according to my way of thinking. He it was who first had the wit to aid
Master Dingley, and I believe he has sufficient of good sense to pull
us through any difficulties we may get into, if so be we do as Tim has
proposed and obey his every order without stopping to question.”
“But I don’t want to be captain; there are others here who can do it
better--you yourself, for instance, Jeremy Hapgood.”
Now I would not undertake to say young Chris had it in mind that he
should be the commander of our company; but certain it is I noted an
expression of dissatisfaction on his face, and if so be I could have
trusted the lad to help us out of a tight place I would have suggested,
for the sake of keeping harmony, that he be chosen leader. That much,
however, I dared not do, and before it was possible for me to speak,
Tim Bowers said quickly:
“I am ready to serve under Richard Salter, and to do whatsoever he may
command.”
So also spoke Jeremy, Sam and Harvey, young Chris holding his peace. I
protested, but it was of no avail.
All save Chris were determined I should take upon myself the leadership
of the company, and although I shrank from such a responsibility, it
seemed better I assume it than to throw the honor, for indeed it was an
honor, aside that Master Ludwig might take it up, because I knew if the
lad was allowed his head a sufficient length of time, he would bring us
all into direst trouble.
After turning the matter over in my mind while one might have counted
twenty, I decided upon such a course of action as would carry us
through, I hoped, with safety until the morning. To this end I said to
my comrades, striving the while not to put on any show of authority:
“There is no reason why all of us remain here throughout the night, and
a good reason why those of us who can, should go home. Therefore it is
I appoint Jeremy Hapgood and Timothy Bowers to take charge of Skinny
Baker from now until morning. The rest of us are to crawl out one by
one, taking due care not to be seen by the lobster-backs, and make such
arrangements at home as will permit of our using the time as best we
can for the benefit of the Cause. Again, it has been agreed with Master
Dingley that one of us would remain nearabout the London Coffee-House.
Because it must be a lad whom he has already seen, I propose that
young Chris perform this duty. It shall be his business to loiter
nearabout that place from to-morrow morning until nightfall, picking up
whatever he may from the conversation of the lobster-backs, and keeping
constantly on watch for Master Dingley, or whoever he may send in his
stead.”
It was perhaps unwise; in fact, at the moment I made such a selection,
I knew that we were taking more than a few risks in giving to young
Chris the post of duty at the Coffee-House. The most difficult task the
lad found in life was to hold his tongue, even when his elders were
speaking, and there was real danger he might, feeling unduly important
because of being chosen for the post, act or talk in such a suspicious
manner as to give the Britishers cause for looking after him sharply.
“When am I to come back here?” young Chris asked as he made his
preparations to depart, and I verily believe he counted on beginning
his work immediately, although there was no possibility Master Dingley
would send anyone into the city before to-morrow at the earliest.
“You will come here only when you are sent for, or after having
received some word from the spy.”
“But he may not show himself for a week,” young Chris said in a tone
of dissatisfaction, and I replied sharply, for inasmuch as I had been
chosen captain I intended to exercise the authority, mildly if I might,
harshly if it became necessary:
“Then you will remain on duty there a week, unless we need you here.
There is one thing positive: We must not come in and out of this hiding
place oftener than may be absolutely necessary. For us to run to and
fro at will is, as you yourself can see, most dangerous.”
To this young Chris made no reply; but straightway crept out between
the timbers and was gone, while Jeremy and I sat looking at each other
questioningly, for there was in his mind much the same as that which
had come into mine, concerning the possibility that young Chris’s zeal
and desire to show himself of importance might bring us to grief.
“I couldn’t have done differently,” I said in reply to the question
I saw in Jeremy’s eyes. “He was angry, or, I will say at least
disgruntled, because you lads chose me for your captain, and it seems
to me in the highest degree important we keep him feeling fairly good
natured. I do not believe young Chris would deliberately work us a harm
if things went wrong; but I am afraid he might allow certain tokens of
ill temper to escape him now and then, which would prove disastrous.
Therefore did it seem to me best that we take the chances of putting
him at the coffee-house where he can, by his ill temper, do us a bad
turn, with the hope that matters may go as we would have them.”
Anyone with half an eye could see that Skinny Baker was decidedly
pleased because we were having so much trouble among ourselves, and he
was ill advised enough to say in a sneering tone:
“Before you lads get through with this business, you will understand
to your cost that it is a dangerous matter, not only to take innocent
lads prisoners without rhyme or reason, but also to plot against his
majesty.”
I had always thought Tim Bowers a mild mannered lad; but at this moment
he showed himself quite the contrary, for, moving toward Skinny in a
threatening manner, he said sharply:
“If I am to have a hand in the guarding of a Tory cur like you,
young Baker, bear this well in mind: That I will take no such words
whatsoever from anyone. It may be cowardly to strike a prisoner, as I
have heard said; but if you make further talk about plotting against
his majesty, then will I give you such a drubbing as to make you wish
there never had been a king in England who insisted in sticking his
nose into our affairs.”
I made no attempt to interfere. Tim was to be on guard during the
night, and he should handle Skinny as best it pleased him.
I was burning to get home that I might talk with my mother about what
we had done, and consult her regarding future movements. Therefore it
was I said that I would go, and come back again before daylight. At the
same time I suggested that the other two lads creep out from the hiding
place, one in advance of the other, as soon as night had come.
“Be careful in leaving here, and doubly cautious when you come back,” I
added. “According to my way of thinking, Sam Elder, it would be a good
idea for you, to-morrow, to remain near where young Chris is on duty.
There is a possibility you may be able to prevent him from the shame of
doing that which would work to our harm.”
“I’ll be there,” was the prompt reply, “and although it is not in my
mind to agree that I or any other lad can keep young Chris straight,
you may count it as certain I will do my best.”
Then it was that I shook Jeremy by the hand as if reckoning on being
absent a long time. There was so much of danger surrounding us, and the
lad had ever been a good friend of mine, that no one might say whether
we two could come together again free, or if by chance our next meeting
might be in General Howe’s headquarters where we stood accused of
treason.
When I set off for Drinker’s alley I made it my way to pass nearby the
London Coffee-House, and there, sure enough, was young Chris, parading
to and fro just outside the door in such a consequential manner that
whosoever saw him, and took any particular note of the boy, would know
he had something on hand which he believed to be of importance.
Fortunately, so I said to myself, no one would suspect a lad like him
of having treasonable designs, and therefore the lobster-backs would
pay little or no heed to his manner, save it might be in the way of
sport.
Striving earnestly to dismiss all disagreeable thoughts from my mind,
and verily if I was so inclined I could find much to cause fear and
distress, I hurried on toward Drinker’s alley, looking forward to the
meeting with my mother as I had never before done.
I understood that, because of what I had agreed upon with Master
Dingley, I might not be able to see very much of her in the future, or
that before many days had passed she might fail of seeing me because of
my being held prisoner, and such thoughts caused my heart to be very
tender toward the one person in all the world who I knew full well
loved me dearly.
Mother herself opened the door as I came up, thus showing that she
must have been on the watch for me, and when she had led me up the
stairs through the hallway and down again into the rear portion of the
house where was the kitchen, explaining what was her purpose in thus
conducting me secretly, as you might say, I understood only too well
why she had been on watch.
“Jeremy Hapgood has already told me what you have agreed to do for
the Cause, and although it gives me a certain degree of pride to know
that a son of mine may be able to accomplish something in this work of
freeing the colonies, yet am I borne down with grief and apprehension,
for already have you done that which I fear must of necessity bring the
British officers upon you.”
“What is it you think we have done, mother?” I asked, trying to assume
an innocent air lest she should understand that my heart, too, was
filled with forebodings.
“What other could it be than that you have been so unwise as to make
a prisoner of Benjamin Baker?” she asked as if in a tone of reproach,
although I knew full well that all her heart was full of sympathy for
me and that which I would do.
“Well, what if we have taken Skinny to where we kept the boat? I don’t
fancy he is of such importance in this city that there will be any
great hue and cry raised concerning him, if he fails to go home within
a certain time.”
“It is there that you are making a mistake, my son, for already has the
hue and cry been raised. Within the hour Master Baker himself came here
to ask if you knew aught concerning his son’s absence, which goes to
show that he must have some suspicion you are concerned in the matter.”
“I have no question but that Skinny’s father and mother will both be
alarmed concerning him, and sorry am I that we were forced to take the
little scoundrel prisoner; but he would have it so by spying on us.
Look you, mother, if we had not taken him as we did, by this time it
would be known that we aided Master Dingley to escape, and you well
understand what would be our fate in such an event. It was his liberty
or ours, and I chose that it should be his. If so be we can keep our
hiding place a secret--”
“For how long, my son? There must be an end to your holding Benjamin
Baker a prisoner. What do you count on doing with him?”
“That is a matter which must be referred to Master Dingley when next
we meet him, if so be we are fortunate enough. Certain it is that
Skinny cannot be allowed to go free, else we must flee the city. My
greatest fear is that someone will, while young Chris is in the plot,
finally come to know of our hiding place. I question much whether the
lobster-backs would take any interest whatever in Skinny’s absence; but
surely they would look after us if he had a chance to tell them what we
did in regard to Master Dingley.”
“But they are already taking interest, my son. Without really playing
the eavesdropper, I heard our lodgers discussing the matter this
afternoon. It seems that Master Baker has been to headquarters, and
while as yet you are not suspected, save perchance the lad’s father
himself may think you were interested in the matter in some way, it
is believed by the Britishers that the appearance of the spy who
was discovered in the London Coffee-House, has somewhat to do with
Benjamin’s unaccountable absence.”
“And did you hear them say that they were deeply grieved because Skinny
failed to show himself on the street?” I asked in what I intended
should be a jovial tone, but down deep in my heart was I beginning to
grow more timorous even than ever.
“It seems to me serious for this reason: They claimed, during the
conversation which I overheard, that by seeking out Benjamin, it may be
possible for them to come upon the trail of the spy who disappeared so
strangely. It appears that during the day all the houses on Chestnut
street were searched with the belief that he might have taken refuge
in one of them. Finding that such was not the case, they have come to
believe he has a hiding place here where he can come and go at will.”
During a full half-minute I stood looking blankly into my mother’s
face, not knowing what I could say that would calm her fears, and at
the same time striving with all my will to down the timorousness which
was coming over me.
“What do you count on doing with Benjamin?” my mother repeated after a
long pause, and I shook my head as does one who is at a loss for words.
From the bottom of my heart I wished I might be able to tell her
exactly what we _would_ do with him, for verily was he rapidly
becoming an elephant on our hands, and certain to bring us low if the
lobster-backs were taking up the search for him.
If peradventure Jeremy Hapgood and I were the only ones concerned in
the matter, then would I believe that he and I might keep the secret
during so long a time that the search for Skinny would be given up; but
with young Chris having a finger in the pie, and so eager to let it
appear that he had important business on hand concerning the colony, or
the king, or both, it seemed certain something regarding our movements
must speedily leak out.
However, it was necessary I say that to my mother regarding our future
plans which would ease her mind, and since we had none, I made a bluff
at it by outlining what I would be pleased to do.
“If it so chances that the lobster-backs suspect us lads of aiding
those who come into the city from the American army as spies, then must
we flee, going to Valley Forge, and even though we may not be allowed,
because of our age, to enroll ourselves as soldiers, it is necessary we
stay under the protection of our own people. When that time comes, we
shall take Skinny with us.”
“But you are thus counting to cut yourself off entirely from me, my
son,” mother said in a tone of deepest sadness. “Since your father’s
death you, Richard, are all I have left that makes life worth the
living, and with you in the army, or, what is even worse, a camp
follower, I truly believe I should die of fear and grief.”
“Yet when Master Dingley made the proposition which he did, you would
not have had me say nay,” I cried earnestly, and she, dear soul,
answered like the true woman she was:
“Of course not, my son; but what I would have had is that you had never
met this Master Dingley.”
“But knowing we did meet him, mother, and that it was possible for us
to save his life, would you have had me turn my back upon the man,
allowing him to be led to the gallows when it should please General
Howe’s high mightiness to hang him?”
“You have done no more, my son, than was your duty; no more than your
father would have bidden you do were he on this earth. And yet even
that fact does not console me, nor will it give me comfort when you are
away, and I all ignorant of your whereabouts.”
Well, we two talked in this strain until it was as if my heart was near
to bursting. Then, striving to show myself some part of a man, I said
with as much of courage as I could coax into my voice:
“Since it has all come about, mother, by chance as you might say, and
because I am in a hobble from which there is no escape if I stay at
home as before this thing came about, let us put the best face we can
upon it. Try to believe what seems reasonable, which is that I shall
succeed in keeping out of the clutches of the lobster-backs, and that
it will be possible for me to see you, if not every day, at least many
times in the week. We will live in the hope that General Washington
counts on leaving Valley Forge soon, to pay a visit to this city of
Philadelphia.”
Then it was I tried to persuade her that there was fair reason for
believing our people counted on making some speedy move, bringing up as
proof the fact that Master Dingley had deemed it of greatest importance
word be sent out of the city to Valley Forge frequently, and arguing
that unless there was some plan of attack in General Washington’s
mind, he would not be concerning himself regarding the lobster-backs
in Philadelphia, for they were surely doing no harm to the Cause while
they remained in our city idling their time away with foolish sports.
Perhaps it was because she wanted to believe all this might be true,
which caused her to lend a favoring ear to my words, and after we had
talked together an hour, mayhap, she seemed right cheerful in mind,
going about her household duties, the chiefest of which seemed to be
caring for my comfort.
Had I eaten all she set before me, then must I have died of
over-feeding, for the dear woman appeared to think, because I had been
away all night, that I must be well-nigh famished, even though she had
sent by Jeremy sufficient of food to keep a hungry boy satisfied during
at least eight and forty hours.
It was not yet sunset when she insisted that I go to bed because of
having remained awake all the night previous, and in truth I was
willing to act upon her suggestion, for my eyelids were so heavy by the
time I had been sitting in front of the kitchen fire half an hour, that
I could keep them open only by the greatest exertion.
It seemed to me I had no more than lost myself in slumber, when I was
awakened by mother’s hand being laid gently on my cheek, at the same
time that she shook me lovingly into consciousness.
I started up in alarm, for at that moment my dreams were most
unpleasant, I fancying myself in the power of the lobster-backs.
When I would have cried out in fear, she placed her hand gently over my
mouth as she whispered:
“Samuel Elder has come to see you, and claims it is important that he
deliver a message.”
“Why not let him come up here?” I asked, and she replied:
“Because all our lodgers are in the house, having with them no less
than a dozen others from the Royal Irish regiment, and I fear to have
them see the lad; he looks so startled and frightened that there would
be good reason for them to suspect him of mischief.”
“Where is he now?”
“I have left him in the shed, not daring to do otherwise, and you are
to come down at once.”
This last portion of my mother’s speech was not needed, for on the
instant she uttered Sam’s name I concluded young Chris had succeeded in
getting himself into some kind of a difficulty which would work to our
disadvantage, and was putting on my clothes as rapidly as ever a lad
could.
“Do you believe it will be necessary to go away from home again
to-night?” my mother asked, and I, fearing the moment had come when
I might be forced to flee for very life, replied with as much of
carelessness as I could assume:
“If it should so be that I must, mother, I promise to come back within
four and twenty hours, so do not fret if I go directly away with Sam
Elder.”
“It is useless to warn me against fretting, my son, for what mother
could know that her boy was in gravest danger, as I fear you are, and
not feel anxiety?”
I made no attempt to reply to this, else would the tears have come into
my eyes, and she, kissing me fondly again and again, turned away as I
went down the stairs toward the shed, feeling much like one who goes to
the scaffold.
Fortunately, matters were not so serious as I had allowed myself to
fear. At least they did not seem so at the time, for when I was come
to where Sam remained half-hidden in the shed, he told me that which
lifted a great burden from my heart.
Instead of waiting for the morrow before he stood watch over young
Chris, it appears that shortly after I went out from the lumber pile,
Sam and Jeremy decided it would be well if he had a look around in the
vicinity of the London Coffee-House, and there he saw, as had I, the
baker’s son parading to and fro.
Sam was far too cautious a boy to go directly up to young Chris,
fearing lest the lad might say something incautiously which would
give an inkling of his purpose. Therefore he remained at a distance
up Chestnut street, seeing nothing especial to cause alarm until he
was startled by a hand being laid upon his shoulder from behind, and,
turning, he saw a stranger, who later he came to believe was none other
than Master Dingley.
“Who is yonder lad?” the man asked, pointing to young Chris, and Sam,
ever cautious, instead of replying asked a question in return:
“Why would you know that, sir?”
“Simply to gratify a curiosity, young master,” the stranger replied
laughingly, and added, “are you a friend of yonder lad?”
“Ay, that I am.”
“And are you also friendly with one Richard Salter?”
“I may say that it pleases me to look upon Richard as a friend, more
than it does to count young Chris as one.”
“And do you know where young Master Salter is at this moment?”
“Ay, that I do.”
“Can you get word to him from me?”
“To what end, sir?” Sam asked suspiciously.
“There is no reason why you should be on your guard against me,” the
man said with a smile, “and yet I like it well that you are. You need
give me no information regarding Richard Salter; but I would have you,
if so you please, take this word to him: Say that one whom he aided
within the past four and twenty hours would have speech with him as
soon as may be at the Jolly Tar inn.”
Having said this the man turned sharply about, and Sam, believing he
had but just had speech with Master Dingley, came to my home with all
speed.
CHAPTER V
AT SWEDE’S FORD
I am free to confess that I was somewhat surprised because Master
Dingley had returned so soon, for I made no question but that it was he
who had spoken with Sam.
All the fear which had come upon me when I was first awakened, fled,
for I said to myself that the gentleman had returned, most like, to
give me instructions as to what we should do in the future, for it
hardly seemed possible he could have any work for us lads so soon after
having made the proposition that we enroll ourselves as Minute Boys.
I questioned Sam as to what had happened in regard to the prisoner
after I left, and he replied that Skinny remained as if in a fit of
the sulks, speaking no word to anyone, and seemingly having resigned
himself to the probable fact that he would be held prisoner until some
of his friends succeeded in finding him.
“Don’t let him deceive you into the belief that he remains there
willingly,” I said to Sam warningly. “If the cur no longer appears
frightened, and is putting on meek airs, then you may set it down as a
fact that he is trying to form some plan to get the best of us.”
“That goes without saying,” Sam replied laughingly. “Suppose either
you or I were in the same hobble Skinny is? Do you not fancy we would
seek in our minds for some way to get the best of those who held us
prisoner?”
“Ay; but without praising ourselves, I may say that we have more
courage than he, and would show ourselves decent fellows even while
fighting.”
“Don’t fear but that I understand he will do anything whatsoever in the
way of treachery, and do you know, Richard Salter, I should not blame
him overly much whatever he did, because the provocation is great.”
“He had no business to stick his nose into our affairs in the first
place. Then he would not be in the lumber pile guarded as he is,” I
replied hotly, and Sam said with a laugh:
“True enough; but he was well within his rights from his standpoint. He
truly believes we are rebels past all hope of redemption, and thinks he
is doing only his duty when he aids those who serve the king, even as
we believe it is in aid of the Cause when we stand ready to do Master
Dingley’s bidding and call ourselves Minute Boys.”
I could never have found it in my heart to speak words even of faint
praise for such a Tory cur as Skinny Baker, yet at the same time it
pleased me that Sam stood up for him in such manly fashion, and I said
with a laugh:
“You may deal out all the praise possible for one like Skinny, and I
will hold my peace, knowing you are a true lad and one who loves the
Cause if there be any in this lobster-back ridden city of ours. Now let
us make all speed for the Jolly Tar.”
“I am not minded to go with you,” Sam replied quickly, and when I asked
him why not, he declared there was no good reason why we two should
remain together in public; that it were better he went back to the
hiding place with Jeremy, where he might be needed, and adding that
if peradventure it became necessary, I would visit the lumber pile
sometime during the night; if not, they should expect me reasonably
early next morning.
“Even though there be no good reason why you come to us,” Sam added
earnestly, “remember that we shall be eager to know what business
Master Dingley has, and therefore I beg you to put us out of suspense
as soon as it may be safely done.”
Then Sam hastened away, and I turned my steps in the direction of the
Jolly Tar inn, wondering not a little whether Master Dingley found
in the host a man who favored the Cause. To me the keeper of that
tavern was a most surly brute, who surely had no friends among those
people whom I knew, and I could not fancy he was of the kind to make a
confidant of anyone.
He was standing in the tap-room of the inn when I entered, and
seemingly there was none other on the premises, for he asked in an
ordinary tone of voice, as if there was no need for secrecy in the
matter, whether my name was Richard Salter.
As a matter of course, I told him it was, and straightway, without
parley, he led me upstairs into a small chamber at the rear of the
house, where, instead of finding Master Dingley, I came upon a man who
was an entire stranger--one whom I had never seen before.
On the instant there came into my mind the fear that some treachery
had been done; that those who favored the king had taken this means of
getting from me information as to what we had done the night previous.
All such suspicions fled from my mind, however, when the man spoke,
for he said, tapping me on the shoulder in a most friendly manner:
“I am sorry that Dingley decided to call upon such lads as you for aid,
because this work which we would do has in it far too much of danger
for us to lead boys into a road which may end only at the gallows.
However, he has done so, and now am I come to ask if you can go this
night to Swede’s Ford?”
“I go to Swede’s Ford?” I repeated like a simple, and in amazement.
“Ay, lad; there is reason for your visit, and no need why I should
explain. I am come to stay in this city a few days, and when you have
been to Swede’s Ford and returned, if so be you desire to have speech
with me, come to this inn, and, speaking only to the landlord, say that
you would talk with the Weaver of Germantown.”
“And why may it be that I should need to have speech with you, sir?” I
asked curiously.
“After you have visited Swede’s Ford you will know better, lad. Where
are your comrades?”
“Nearabout, sir; somewhere within the city,” I replied, suspicion again
coming into my mind that this stranger might be trying to force from me
a secret with a view of doing us harm.
The reply seemed to please him, for he said, again tapping me on the
shoulder:
“Such caution is well, lad, in these times, and I am glad to see
that you understand it. I asked the question only from a spirit of
curiosity, and it is better, perhaps, that you do not answer. However,
you will say to them, wherever they may be, that if during your
absence any danger menaces, either to themselves or to our people at
Valley Forge, they are to come here and have speech with me even as I
explained to you how it should be done.”
“But what am I to do at Swede’s Ford?” I asked almost impatiently, for
this journey was not to my liking, and the stranger answered in what
was much to me like a riddle:
“That you will find out once you are arrived there. Take no heed as to
why you are going, but simply present yourself at Swede’s Ford anywhere
to-morrow morning after daylight, and the remainder will be told you.”
“The remainder will be told me,” I repeated to myself, dazed rather
than otherwise by this proposition.
Certain it was that the man who was representing Master Dingley’s
interest was quite as careful in his way as I had shown myself to be in
mine. Here he was proposing that I go on a visit which was not without
some danger, because there was the risk of being overhauled by the
lobster-backs before I could get there, and even going so far in his
caution as to fail of giving me any inkling of that which I was to do.
It was evident that the stranger read, from the expression on my face,
that I was not overly well pleased at thus being forced to set off
blindfold as you might say, and he hastened to add:
“Be not vexed, lad, because I fail of explaining matters at the outset.
It is well you should not know, for if peradventure you were taken by
the Britishers, then would it be impossible to inadvertently reveal the
secret. You are simply to go to Swede’s Ford, lounge about there as if
you had no particular business, and straightway someone will accost
you, asking if you have been sent by the Weaver of Germantown. Then
may you know that he is one to be trusted, and follow his instructions.”
“Am I to go alone, sir?”
“That is as you may please. If so be you have an idea that with a
companion you could more readily explain that you had set off simply on
a pleasure jaunt, or in regard to family matters, take whomsoever you
choose. In fact, the orders from Master Dingley were that he believed
you to be a boy of considerable parts, and one who might be safely
trusted, without definite instructions, to pull through whatsoever he
attempted.”
I questioned at the moment whether Master Dingley had said anything of
the kind; but rather fancied that this man, believing I was somewhat
disgruntled, counted to flatter me so I might the more willingly set
off on such a blind chase.
I made no reply to him; but waited until he should speak again, and
mayhap sixty seconds passed in silence, whereupon I said with a half
laugh:
“Perhaps it is your idea that there is nothing more to be said?”
“That is exactly it, my lad. Too free a use of the tongue in times like
these, even between sworn friends, is inclined to danger; therefore,
we who are called rebels had best hold as little converse as may be,
although within the walls of this inn, so far as Master Targe, the
landlord, can arrange matters, we are safe to speak our minds, yet
there is no good reason why it should be done at all times. Leave the
city whensoever it pleases you, so that you may arrive at Swede’s Ford
reasonably early to-morrow morning.”
Then he opened the door, which was surely invitation enough for me to
go, and I went, turning the matter over in my mind as I passed through
the passageway leading to the tap-room, and from thence out on the
street.
Master Targe was standing just outside his door as I went by him, and
he looked at me so earnestly that I could not but fancy something was
in the wind, therefore halted sufficiently long to ask if he believed
he had seen me before.
“Nay, lad, I have not charged my memory with you. It may be that you
have been hereabout many a time; but just now I would so fix your face
in my mind that I shall recognize it amid a thousand when I see you
again, for it is likely you may come here often.”
Even though Master Dingley had been forced to leave Philadelphia
hurriedly and secretly, it was evident he had made arrangements
for whatsoever might turn up. Yet I wondered not a little why this
innkeeper should so readily understand that his guests from outside
the city would be needing or asking for the services of boys, although
there were many reasons why I might believe that the stranger whom I
just left had explained matters.
Yet, and I asked myself this more than once, how had Master Dingley had
opportunity since we parted with him at the Falls of the Schuylkill, to
make any arrangements with another?
There was food for thought in such matter, and although I could not
suspect the man whom I had just left, I failed utterly of making
out how all this thing had been brought about to so complete an
understanding in so short a time.
However, it was not for me to speculate overly much upon the matter,
for if I was to obey the instructions given no time should be lost.
If I counted on journeying to Swede’s Ford, then it would require
every effort in order to arrive there at an early hour next day, and
I quickened my pace that I might the sooner come at the hiding place
where I counted to meet only Jeremy and Sam.
To my unpleasant surprise, I found young Chris with the two who were
guarding the prisoner, and because I could not let the lad understand
that I was unwilling to trust him entirely, it became necessary, in
order to explain to Jeremy and Sam that I was going out of town, for me
to tell the whole story in young Chris’s presence.
This I did without seeming to hesitate, for the baker’s son was a
suspicious lad, and it did not require many odd actions or chance words
to arouse his anger.
Before I had well begun the story young Chris flew into a passion, and
cried out angrily:
“If I was sent to the Royal Coffee-House to wait for whosoever might
come in search of us, why did Sam Elder go there also? And if he was
there by accident, why did he not report to me that someone had come
who would have speech with you, Richard Salter?”
Sam would have replied, and probably with considerable temper, if I
could judge by the expression on his face; but when I motioned for him
to remain silent, he obeyed, and I replied to the angry Chris:
“It is not an overly safe matter in the work we propose to do, bandying
words back and forth, especially in public. Sam had received the
message, and there was less danger if he came directly to me, than if
he waited to explain to you all that occurred, at the risk of being
overheard. Why should you be disgruntled because by chance he was able
to do a portion of the work which had been set for you?”
“That is exactly why I am disgruntled. The work was for me and not for
him. If he interfered, I should have been informed.”
“At the expense of having the secret made known?” Jeremy asked grimly,
and young Chris cried in a rage:
“Ay, at every risk, for I was the one who remained on duty.”
Then I believed had come the time when I must assert my authority as
commander of the Minute Boys, and I said with as much of sternness
as I could call up, striving at the same time to show somewhat of
friendliness in my tones:
“You must remember, young Chris, that this work is for all of us, and
not for one individual. If it so chance I have set out on some matter,
and you can do it more safely or quickly, then it were worse than folly
for me to complain. Our only purpose in banding ourselves together as
Minute Boys is to benefit the Cause, and not simply that one or another
may gain glory.”
I believe that young Chris was secretly ashamed of having shown himself
so foolish, for he said in a tone of sulkiness:
“I am only complaining because of being set about a task and then
having another lad hoisted over my head.”
“No one was hoisted over your head, Chris. It so chanced that Sam was
there, and the man spoke to him. He also was a considerable distance
up Chestnut street--not at your post of duty. What folly it would have
been for him to circle around the coffee-house, rather than coming
directly to me.”
“And I suppose you count on starting for Swede’s Ford at once?”
“I certainly do. It is necessary I be there early to-morrow morning,
and I believe it will be well for me to go as far as the falls in the
_Jolly Rover_, since there is less likelihood in such course of being
overhauled by the lobster-backs.”
“Why should you gain all the credit of this work?” young Chris asked,
still in a sulky tone, whereupon I replied sharply:
“It is not certain there will be any credit attached to it; but far
more likely, as I figure the matter, that the one who goes will
encounter no little danger before he has got back to Philadelphia. Even
though the lobster-backs do not interfere, I am of the opinion that
those who would have us aid them will count that we have only done
our duty. So far as gaining glory in this work is concerned, if that
be what you are after, young Chris, there is every chance you will be
sadly disappointed.”
“But why should you go alone?” Chris demanded.
“And why should I not?” I asked, now very nearly losing my temper.
“Because two will be necessary if you are to go as far as the falls in
the _Jolly Rover_, and if there is no longer need for me to stay on
duty nearabout the coffee-house, then I am of a mind to go with you.”
Now it was by no means to my liking that young Chris should bear me
company on this mission, whatever it might be, for, as I have already
said, he was not a lad who could be depended upon to keep his temper,
or to be prudent, in a time of danger.
Yet the thought flashed quickly through my mind even while he was
speaking, that if I should allow the lad to go with me, then was I
removing him from all opportunity of doing harm to those who were
guarding Skinny.
Straightway, without apparent hesitation, I said to him heartily:
“If so be you are inclined to go, young Chris, I see no reason why
it shouldn’t be done. I shall be pleased to have company and aid in
working the _Jolly Rover_, therefore, if you count on going home to
explain that you may be absent some time, make all possible haste, for
I would like to be on the journey before another hour goes by.”
Young Chris hesitated as if it was in his mind to set off without
allowing his parents to know where he went; but when Jeremy suggested
that the work which we would be called upon to do by those who awaited
us at Swede’s Ford might keep us from the city several days, he
concluded to so far save his mother from anxiety as to let her know
that he intended to go away.
It would have been better for Chris, I thought then and have always
believed since, if his parents had ever held him to a rigid accounting
of his time. But since the day I first knew the lad, he seemed free to
go or come as he pleased without regard to any person or thing.
I believe the fact of my willingness to have young Chris accompany
me to Swede’s Ford surprised him, for he looked as if dazed for an
instant, and then went out from the hiding place with more of caution
and less noisily than I had ever known him to go before.
“If I was going away on a mission concerning which I knew nothing
whatsoever, young Chris, although devoted to the Cause, is not the lad
I would choose for a companion,” Jeremy Hapgood said, speaking slowly
as if reaching out in his mind for all the possibilities of danger that
might come to me while in young Chris’s company.
I made reply in what might have been a sorrowful tone, for I was indeed
disappointed that he was to be my companion:
“It is better he go with me than that he stay, for there is such
a whirl in his mind regarding our company of Minute Boys and the
possibility of what they may do, that he will be prone to carelessness,
and might bring trouble upon you who are tied here.”
“Why should they be tied here?” Skinny Baker cried suddenly and hotly.
“Why not do as decent lads would, and take my word that I will never
reveal anything I have seen or heard since you went up the river with
the stranger?”
“The reason why we don’t do it, Skinny,” Sam Elder said grimly, “is
because your word is not worth a straw. I have known you ready to lie
in small matters when no good could be accomplished by it, and surely
if we were simples enough to let you go free, for the sake of revenge
you would break the most solemn oath.”
Then it was that Skinny, for the first time since we had made him
prisoner, flew into a veritable rage, and it became necessary Jeremy
and Sam should literally hold him by the arms, else would he have
striven to force his way out, while, save that I clapped my hand over
his mouth, the Tory cur must have screamed aloud for help.
“You are bound to gag him!” I cried in alarm.
Really there was every danger he would arouse the neighborhood, for no
one could say who might be passing near at hand, and such a noise as we
were then making must of necessity attract attention.
This proposition frightened Skinny more than any threat would have
done, for straightway he calmed himself, and said in an imploring tone:
“Don’t gag me! I promise faithfully to hold my peace! It will be
barbarous to force my jaws apart during such time as I must stay here!
Suppose one of you lads were in my place, do you think it possible you
could sit here with a smile on your face, and never make a move toward
trying to escape?”
“No, Skinny,” Jeremy replied gravely. “I am quite certain any of us
would make a greater disturbance than you are creating. But we must,
as would you, protect ourselves. Therefore the next time you raise
your voice with the idea of attracting attention from the outside, I
pledge my word that you shall be gagged in such fashion that your jaws
will not come together within three or four inches, and thus shall you
remain, save at such times as we are pleased to take the gag out to
save you from being choked to death.”
“We two will stay on duty all the time you are away, Richard,” Sam
Elder said as if thinking I needed heartening, as indeed I did. “Go
about your work at Swede’s Ford without fear for us, and howsoever long
you may remain absent, it will only be necessary for you to come here
in order to find Skinny, as well as Jeremy and me.”
Young Chris returned just at that instant, and I was not able to say
privately to my comrades that which I was counting on doing, for, as
I have already repeated again and again, I did not have sufficient
confidence in Master Ludwig’s son to let him share all my thoughts. And
this not because there was any fear he had a leaning to the side of the
king; but on account of his recklessness.
Young Chris announced that he had spoken with his father, telling him
all that had occurred, and anyone who was acquainted with baker Ludwig,
knew him to be such a thorough friend of the colonies that if his son
could do whatsoever to aid the Cause, there would be no hindrance from
him.
Chris had come with full permission to remain away as long as might be
necessary, and, what was more to the purpose, had no less than seven
shillings in his pocket in addition to a generous supply of bread and
meat, enough to serve us, even though we should be hungry all the time,
at least eight and forty hours.
After the lad had displayed his riches, and they were riches indeed to
us boys who were in the hiding place, for never in my life had I had
more than sixpence at a time, while I knew full well Jeremy and Sam had
hardly seen as much money in the whole course of their lives, we set
off without delay.
On leaving the hiding place one crawled out considerably in advance of
the other, and when we were in the open, strove to move in a careless
manner as if we had little heed whether we went this way or that.
Twice did we come upon a squad of lobster-backs who were patrolling
the streets to make certain the rebels of Philadelphia kept snugly
under cover, lest they be tempted to say something disrespectful of his
majesty.
Each time we came upon the Britishers did young Chris save us from
being marched to the guard-house, for all the lobster-backs were
acquainted with Ludwig the baker, although they did not know him for
a friend to the Cause, and his son might do almost as much without
reproach from them, as if he had for sire the rankest Tory in the city.
This poor attempt of mine at story-telling would be the more
entertaining if I could set down that we had this or that desperate
adventure while making our way across the city, and yet truth demands
that I must say we went our way as peacefully as though the king’s
troops had never been within a thousand miles of Philadelphia.
Save in the two cases which I have already mentioned, we were not
molested in the slightest degree, and even the meeting with the
lobster-backs, thanks to young Chris, was nothing more than a pleasure
as you might say, for it gave me no little delight to see them so ready
to let us pass when we were engaged in that work which was to them a
crime well worthy of death.
We went straight across the city until coming to the river, and there
found the _Jolly Rover_ amid the thicket just as we had left her.
There was nothing to prevent our setting off at once, and within half
an hour from the time we had left the lumber pile, we were pulling up
stream in a leisurely fashion as if simply bent on sport.
We arrived at the falls without having met anyone to dispute our
passage, and, leaving there the _Jolly Rover_ hidden securely, set off
on foot for Swede’s Ford, walking with such purpose that the sun had
not shown himself for more than two hours when we were at the journey’s
end, looking anxiously around for whosoever was to greet us.
As a matter of course, young Chris and I had very much to say to each
other during the tramp, for it was not reasonable to suppose two lads
would walk throughout the entire night without holding converse; but
that of which we spoke has no concern whatsoever with this attempt of
mine to set down the doings of the Minute Boys.
It needs only to be said that more than once did I, in as delicate
a way as possible, strive to convince my comrade he must exercise
more caution both in speech and movement, if we were to do anything
whatsoever in aid of the colonies.
And now a word regarding this place where we had arrived, and which was
hardly more than a wilderness, save for the breastworks that had been
thrown up some time since by order of General Washington, to prevent
the Britishers from crossing the river.
There was also the farm-house which had been built by a man named John
Bull, who was a stanch Whig, and because of this so-called crime, the
Britishers under General Howe, when they marched to Philadelphia the
year previous, burned his barn for him.
The ruins were yet there, of course; but the house was occupied, or we
judged it to be from the signs of life which could be seen roundabout,
probably by the farmer’s family who had no other place of shelter,
save they went into that city which was held by their enemies.
There were in the breastworks mayhap twenty men, who were lounging
about as if having no other aim in life than to take their pleasure,
and I fancied they looked at us curiously, perhaps in an unfriendly
manner, therefore it was I suggested to young Chris that we remain
at a distance on the bank of the stream, rather than be questioned
concerning what we could not answer even though disposed to make public
all our doings.
We walked to and fro on the shore striving to avoid more than ordinary
attention, at the same time that we kept ourselves in view of
whomsoever counted on coming to meet us, and during all the while, as
you can well fancy, both of us speculated as to why we had been sent to
such a lonely place.
If word had come that we were to present ourselves at Valley Forge,
where was the commander-in-chief, then might I have understood somewhat
concerning the reason. But why we were to come here in the woods, as
you might say, was past my guessing.
In later days, however, I came to realize that he who takes upon
himself such work as we were then striving to do, must not question the
whys and wherefores; but obey blindly every order which is given, and
do it promptly.
When half an hour had passed and no one appeared, young Chris began
to lose his patience, and a stranger might have supposed, to hear him
talk, that we two lads were of great consequence in this war against
the king, for he announced angrily that if those persons who had sent
for us did not appear within thirty minutes, he would go away,
leaving them to do their business as best they might.
[Illustration: “THIS, GENERAL VARNUM, IS RICHARD SALTER.”]
All this was foolish, as a matter of course, and I made to it no reply,
thus allowing the lad to quiet down a bit. At the end of another
half-hour he had thrown himself upon the ground, making ready to go
to sleep, when I saw in the distance one whom I recognized as Master
Dingley, and with him a man in the uniform of our army, evidently a
superior officer.
The two came directly to where we were standing, and Master Dingley,
taking me by the hand as if I had been a particular friend of his, said
in a manner that nearly caused my cheeks to flush with shame because
such praise was not warranted:
“This, General Varnum, is Richard Salter, son of a widow who keeps a
lodging house in Drinker’s alley, where no less a person than Major
Simcoe is wont to frequent. He is a lad, as I know by careful inquiry,
who may be fully trusted, and I believe will do whatsoever you have
with which to entrust him.”
General Varnum, who was a mild-spoken man, and not such an one as I
had fancied would be chosen to lead a large number of men into battle,
asked many questions concerning my life in the city since the British
had taken possession, and particularly did he inquire concerning my
home, and in what part of the building the Britishers lodged. He was
curious to learn whether I heard any conversation between them, or if
they spoke guardedly when any of my mother’s family were near at hand.
I cannot undertake to set down all of which we spoke, for a great
deal of it seemed to me have no connection whatsoever with the Cause.
It appeared as if he was gratifying his curiosity, rather than
endeavoring to gain information.
But when he was come to an end of his questioning, and during all this
time no attention whatsoever had been paid to young Chris, who lay upon
the grass kicking up his heels in evident displeasure, the general said
to Master Dingley:
“It is well. You may entrust the lad with the mission, Josiah; but
first make certain if his comrade is to be relied upon.”
At this young Chris sprang to his feet as if to make some angry reply,
and I verily believe he would have given way to his ill temper even in
the presence of the general, had I not caught him quickly by the arm,
looking into his eyes in such a manner as was much the same as if I had
bidden him hold his peace.
Then the general walked away, and Master Dingley turned to young Chris,
saying to me meanwhile:
“Who is this comrade of yours?”
“The son of Christopher Ludwig, the baker,” I made haste to reply.
“And surely knowing the father, you can have full faith in the son’s
willingness to do whatsoever you have for his hand.”
“Is there any reason why you lads may not linger here four and twenty
hours?” Master Dingley asked.
I told him we were at his service, yet secretly hoped he would not keep
us in that desolate place long.
“Is your company of Minute Boys already formed?” Master Dingley asked,
and straightway young Chris’s tongue was loosened as he told of what
he himself had done in the way of raising recruits, speaking so
boastingly, that one who did not know him might come to believe we had
a large number of lads ready to serve the Cause in whatsoever way they
might.
I took it upon myself to explain how many had joined the company, and
who they were, whereupon Master Dingley said:
“The work which the commander-in-chief would have you do is such as
requires more than ordinary caution, and of so delicate a nature that
General Varnum, who is entrusted with that part of the scheme, was not
willing you should be informed of what was on foot until he had had
speech with you. Therefore it was I asked that you come here to this
place, rather than at Valley Forge.”
“And are we not to see the American camp?” young Chris asked eagerly.
“Now that General Varnum is satisfied regarding you two, I see no
reason why you may not go into camp this night, if so be you are
willing to tramp over a rough bit of country.”
“We would tramp from here to New York and back again, for the sake of
seeing the army!” I cried excitedly, for my one desire throughout all
the long winter had been to see how our brave fellows bore up under the
privations of which we had but faint idea.
“Very well; we will set off at once,” Master Dingley replied.
And so we did. But nothing was seen of General Varnum, and before we
had gone a mile I learned that he had ridden down to within a short
distance of Swede’s Ford on horseback, where he met Master Dingley, and
was now returning in the same manner.
And now comes what at that time was to me a great mystery. We traveled
leisurely along, talking of this thing and of that concerning the
struggles which our people were making against the king’s rule, and
with no fear that anyone was near to overhear our words, yet never once
did Master Dingley speak concerning the mission which he would send us
on, and for which we had come so far.
It was as if he had entirely forgotten we had been summoned for some
especial purpose, and believed his sole duty was to escort us to the
American camp.
Again and again was I tempted to ask why we had been called to Swede’s
Ford; but each time my heart failed me. Then I said to myself that I
would restrain my curiosity, come what might, never hinting that I was
eager to learn of his purpose, and waiting with whatsoever patience I
could until it pleased him to explain matters.
CHAPTER VI
VALLEY FORGE
Now, while we are traveling over the hills hoping speedily to cover
the seven miles between Swede’s Ford and Valley Forge, I burning with
impatience for Master Dingley to speak concerning the business on which
we had been summoned, and young Chris following sulkily in the rear,
disgruntled because he had, according to his belief, not been treated
with as much ceremony as he believed the son of his father should have,
let me set down what at a later day I read concerning Valley Forge and
our people there.
It cannot be without interest even to those who know it full well
because of having suffered there, and to him who would follow my poor
attempt at telling of the doings of our Minute Boys of Philadelphia,
it seems necessary many things should be known concerning this winter
encampment where was so much of suffering.
It is perhaps needless for me to say that our army arrived at Valley
Forge on the nineteenth day of December in the year 1777, and there at
once began the work of building such shelters as would serve in some
slight degree to shield them from the cruel weather.
I myself have seen the written orders which General Washington gave
concerning the making of the huts. He directed the commanding officers
of regiments to have their men divided into parties of twelve, to see
to it each company had its proportion of tools, and that they build a
hut for that number.
In order to quicken their movements, for General Washington knew how
necessary it was these shelters should be erected without delay, he
promised to give the party in each regiment which finished its hut
the soonest and in the most workmanlike manner, a present of twelve
dollars. He also offered a reward of one hundred dollars to the officer
or soldier who would substitute a covering for the huts, cheaper and
more quickly made than boards.
These are the directions which he gave concerning the size and style
of the building: “Fourteen feet by sixteen each; the sides, end and
roofs made with logs; the roofs made tight with split slabs, or some
other way; the sides made tight with clay; a fireplace made of wood and
secured with clay on the inside eighteen inches thick; this fireplace
to be in the rear of the hut; the door to be in the end next the
street; the doors to be made of split oak slabs unless boards can be
procured; the side walls to be six feet and a half high. The officers’
huts are to form a line in the rear of the troops, one hut to be
allowed to each general officer; one to the staff of each brigade;
one to the field officers of each regiment; one to the staff of each
regiment; one to the commissioned officers of two companies; and one to
every twelve non-commissioned officers and soldiers.”
Do you remember that pitiful letter which Washington wrote to Governor
Clinton about the middle of February, wherein he said:
“For some days past there has been little less than a famine in the
camp. A part of the army has been a week without any kind of flesh, and
the rest three or four days. Naked and starving as they are, we cannot
enough admire the incomparable patience and fidelity of the soldiery,
that they have not been, ere this, excited by their sufferings to a
general mutiny and desertion.”
Now I have heard it said that when the army first went into camp
there were eleven thousand and ninety-eight men, but of this number
two thousand eight hundred and ninety-eight were unfit for duty.
The British army encamped in comfort, almost luxury, in our land of
America, numbered thirty-three thousand, seven hundred and fifty-six,
and nineteen thousand, five hundred and thirty of these were in our
city of Philadelphia, afraid to move in either direction save when they
sent out squads now and then to inflict damage upon the people nearby.
More than once had I heard Major Simcoe speak of our people under arms
as the “Rag-tag and bobtail,” and yet that same rag-tag and bobtail
were keeping the lobster-backs shut up in Philadelphia, while they were
in the condition which General Varnum described to General Green when
he wrote to him on the twelfth of February, which same letter I also
have seen, as has young Chris, in which he says:
“The situation of the camp is such that in all human probability the
army must dissolve. Many of the troops are destitute of meat and are
several days in arrears. The horses are dying for want of forage. The
country in the vicinity of the camp is exhausted. There cannot be a
moral certainty of bettering our condition while we remain here.”
And before this day on which Chris and I were visiting Valley Forge,
Master Dingley told us that again and again was it almost impossible to
find soldiers in condition fit to discharge the military camp duties
from day to day. That those who were naked, and there were very many
who were almost the same as without clothing, borrowed from those who
had clothes, while they went out to stand guard or do such other duties
as were required. And when he said this, Master Dingley added proudly:
“Yet, amid all this suffering day after day, surrounded by frost and
snow (for it has been a winter of great severity), patriotism is still
warm and hopeful in the hearts of the soldiers, and their love of self
is merged into the one holy sentiment of love for country.”
If I had been lukewarm regarding the Cause up to this day when we were
traveling over the hills with Master Dingley, I should have burned, as
I really did then, to have my part of the sufferings which these men
were enduring.
I felt more keenly than ever how small and pitiful it was for young
Chris and me to complain because we had been asked to walk a few miles
into the country, to the end that we might be able to do something
in the behalf of our people, when those brave fellows were suffering
bitterly, so we could teach the king a lesson which he sorely needed.
Perhaps it is not well for me to set down so plainly the sufferings of
our soldiers at Valley Forge, and yet why should they not be made known
in order that all who come after us may the better understand at what
cost we of the colonies were fighting against the king’s troops, who
swarmed over the land like as locusts, devouring everything that could
be come at?
I was ashamed that I had been living in Philadelphia with plenty of
food and ample shelter. Ashamed that I had not known better concerning
this suffering at Valley Forge, so I might have been all the more eager
to do whatsoever lay within my power.
I was yet reproaching myself because thus far I had not shared in the
distress of our people who were serving the Cause, when we came within
sight of the encampment lying in the valley and along the sides of the
hill, and then it was that suddenly, as if just remembering why we had
come there, Master Dingley said:
“Now then, lads, sit ye down where it will be possible to see our brave
fellows who are waiting an opportunity to fall upon the lobster-backs,
and you shall hear what I would have you do in your own city of
Philadelphia, promising, however, that there are many chances you may
not be allowed to finish the work, because if so be the Britishers have
an inkling of what you are about, your shrift will be short.”
Then it was I suddenly remembered that Master Dingley was all ignorant
of the fact that we had taken Skinny Baker prisoner.
It may seem strange I should have forgotten such an important fact;
but the reason of my not speaking with him regarding it was, that
up to this time he had made no inquiries concerning our movements
in Philadelphia, save as to what we had done in the way of raising
recruits for the Minute Boys.
Then, when he seemed to be on the point of telling us why we had been
called to Swede’s Ford, I made bold to say:
“There is one thing, perhaps, which you should know before explaining
the purpose for which you sent to us. After leaving you, and getting
nearly home again, we found that the son of a Tory, one Benjamin Baker,
had not only seen us in your company; but knew that we had taken you up
the river. There seemed to be but one thing to do, which was to keep
the fellow safe where he could not tell the lobster-backs what he had
discovered, and the result of it all is that we are holding him captive
in that place where our boat was hidden.”
“And you have a prisoner on your hands?” Master Dingley cried as if in
dismay, whereupon young Chris said boldly:
“Ay, how else could we do? The lad was certain to have told his story
to the first lobster-back he met, and if peradventure the soldiers did
not believe him, his father is of sufficient influence to obtain an
interview even with General Howe. It was his liberty or ours.”
“Ay, I can see that much, and yet there is great danger, as it appears
to me, for you thus to hold him in hiding. Of a surety his father will
make search for the lad.”
“He has already done so, and yet if our comrades are cautious, holding
themselves well under cover without venturing out more than is
absolutely necessary, I fail to see how Master Baker can come upon his
son,” I replied.
Master Dingley remained silent while one might have counted twenty, and
then he asked suddenly:
“Did you tell the Weaver of Germantown that you had a Tory lad in your
keeping?”
“That we did not, sir,” I replied.
“Why not?”
“I was not overly certain that he who called himself the Weaver of
Germantown was a true friend to the Cause. I had only his word for it,
and there was no reason why I should give him more of my affairs than
was absolutely necessary.”
“The caution does you credit, lad, yet I would he knew of it, for it
might make some difference in his movements.”
“It can’t be helped now,” young Chris said lightly, as if not
considering the matter of any great importance. “We have got Skinny,
and must hold him so long as we count on staying in Philadelphia, for
no one who knows him would be willing to take his word on any matter
whatsoever, and certain it is he would betray us to the lobster-backs
gleefully, however he might swear to the contrary.”
“And one could hardly blame him if he did,” Master Dingley said grimly,
after which he fell silent again.
We two lads sat watching him a full minute, mayhap, when he
straightened up as does one who would throw off some disagreeable
thought, and said with a long-drawn breath that was much like a sigh:
“What has been done, has been done, and we must make the best of that
which seems to me a dangerous matter, for it is hardly possible you can
keep the lad prisoner within a lumber pile many days. However, what
comes of that is no affair of ours just at this time. It remains for
me to tell you why, and how, you can be of service to the Cause, lads
though you are.”
Now it was I pricked up my ears, for at last, after what had seemed to
be an exceeding long time of waiting, we were to learn why we had been
summoned.
“First let me ask if you have heard in the city aught concerning a
change of British commanders?”
“No, sir, although my mother did say shortly before we met you, that
she heard Major Simcoe speaking somewhat concerning a change; but what
it was she failed to catch.”
“Well, lads, we have from reliable authority that General Howe is to be
replaced in command by General Henry Clinton; but whether that be good
news or ill, remains to be seen. Now, however, I have to tell you what
I question if even the enemy in Philadelphia are yet aware. It concerns
our affairs with France. That country has acknowledged the independence
of our colonies, and entered into a treaty with us, which is much the
same as saying that she will stand our friend during the remainder of
this war. Such news came to us six days ago, which is as if I had said
on the first of May, and to-morrow there will be rejoicings in this
army here at Valley Forge. Therefore I would have you see and hear
what takes place, to the end that you may tell those of our friends in
Philadelphia whom you can trust, so if peradventure they be weak-kneed
in the Cause it will strengthen them wondrously. It was for that reason
you were asked to come here; but rather than saying you should journey
directly to this place, General Varnum insisted that first he must have
speech with you to learn if--and now I am speaking particularly to
Richard Salter--he and his mother could be depended upon to spread the
news in such manner that the telling of it might not bring them into
trouble.”
I was becoming confused. I had believed we had been sent for because
of yet greater troubles to the colonies, and now it seemed that instead
of venturing our lives in the Cause, we were simply to be the bearers
of good tidings, after having witnessed a celebration by those men who
had suffered so much during the winter.
“Here is a copy of general orders which have been issued by the
commander-in-chief, and I would have you lads read it carefully, to the
end that you shall remember it even after you are men grown, for to my
mind this marks an era in our struggle for independence which promises,
for the first time since we arrayed ourselves against the king, that we
may be reasonably certain of accomplishing our purpose.”
Then Master Dingley took from his coat a folded paper which he handed
me, insisting that I read it aloud, and so I did.
Even to this day can I remember the words, so deeply were they then
impressed upon my memory, and I am setting each one down, hoping it may
be possible for me to put them exactly in that order as I read while we
were sitting upon the ground overlooking the camp at Valley Forge.
“It having pleased the Almighty Ruler of the universe to defend the
Cause of the United American States, and finally to raise us up a
powerful friend among the princes of the earth, to establish our
liberty and independence upon a lasting foundation, it becomes us to
set apart a day for gratefully acknowledging the divine goodness,
and celebrating the important event, which we owe to His divine
interposition. The several brigades are to be assembled for this
purpose at nine o’clock to-morrow morning, when their chaplains will
communicate the intelligence contained in the postscript of the
Pennsylvania Gazette of the 2nd instant, and offer up a thanksgiving,
and deliver a discourse suitable to the occasion. At half-past ten
o’clock a cannon will be fired, which is to be a signal for the men to
be under arms; the brigade inspectors will then inspect their dress
and arms, and form the battalions according to the instructions given
them, and announce to the commanding officers of the brigade that the
battalions are formed.
“The commanders of brigades will then appoint a field officer to the
battalions, after which each battalion will be ordered to load and
ground their arms. At half-past eleven a second cannon will be fired
as a signal for the march; upon which the several brigades will begin
their march by wheeling to the right by platoons, and proceed by the
nearest way to the left of their ground by the new position. This
will be pointed out by the brigade inspectors. A third signal will
then be given, on which there will be a discharge of thirteen cannon;
after which a running fire of the infantry will begin on the right of
Woodford’s, and continue throughout the front line; it will then be
taken up on the left of the second line, and continue to the right.
Upon a signal given, the whole army will huzza, Long live the King of
France! The artillery then begins again, and fires thirteen rounds;
this will be succeeded by a second general discharge of the musketry in
a running fire, and huzza, Long live the friendly European powers! The
last discharge of thirteen pieces of artillery will be given, followed
by a general running fire, and huzza, The American States!”
“It will be a fine celebration!” young Chris said excitedly, thinking
more of what was to be done in the way of making a noise, than of that
which it signified.
I could not for the life of me speak, for it seemed of a verity that
this was indeed the beginning of the end. And I may be pardoned if,
way down in my heart, there was just the slightest feeling of regret
because the war was come to an end so soon that our Minute Boys of
Philadelphia might not have a chance to show the stuff which was in
them; but I need not have fretted concerning that part of it.
Before many weeks I was to learn that this show of friendship on the
part of the French nation had not won for us our independence; there
must be yet much more bloodshed, and ample time in which we lads of
Philadelphia could prove our metal.
“And it was simply that we might see this celebration you sent for
us?” I said, whereupon Master Dingley smiled as one might at a foolish
child, while he said in an indulgent tone:
“Nay, lad, there is yet much work to be done, as you will see. The
chief question which concerns us here is, what will be General
Clinton’s policy once he has taken command of the troops which are in
Philadelphia, and to that end has the Weaver of Germantown taken up his
abode in the Jolly Tar inn, there to remain so long as the Britishers
will allow. In the meanwhile, however, General Varnum believes, as
do I, that two or three lads who can move about without attracting
attention, may gain us certain information concerning the events of the
eighteenth day of May.”
“That is nearly two weeks from now!” young Chris exclaimed as if
disappointed because our work was not to begin immediately, and I could
not refrain from asking how it was that Master Dingley could set so
decidedly a time when we might be able to do something--how it was he
knew exactly that on a certain day of May we might be of service.
“It is because on that day a grand festival is to be held under
direction of General Burgoyne and Major John Andre, as a sort of
farewell reception to General Howe, for before that day comes, so our
information goes, General Clinton will be here. This carnival has been
called by its promoters, and I believe it was Major Andre himself who
gave the name, the _Mischianza_, whatever that may mean. Then it is,
when the officers have given themselves over to pleasure, that you lads
may pick up much concerning the possible movements of General Clinton,
for it is certain considerable of that matter will be discussed at
such a time. I learned, while in Philadelphia, that the carnival was
to be held at Master Wharton’s country seat in Southwark, and that the
company will begin to assemble from three to four o’clock at Knight’s
wharf, when they will embark in a grand regatta. It is from that moment
I count on your being able to follow them.”
“Then all we are to do is go to a party at Master Wharton’s, eh?” young
Chris asked in a tone of discontent, and Master Dingley smiled sadly as
he replied:
“If it is danger you lads are greedy for, I venture to say that
you have enough of it surrounding you just now. What with the boy
prisoner in the lumber pile; the knowledge that your people, meaning
particularly your father, young Ludwig, are among those who love the
colonies, you will stand a good chance of being brought up with a round
turn to explain why you are loitering around that party of pleasure
seekers, if so be you are not exceeding cautious. Do not be over eager
about running your neck into peril, for you stand nearby it every
moment of your life from this on.”
It was in my mind that Master Dingley simply said this to pleasure us,
seeing we were eager to run our noses into peril, for I failed utterly
of understanding how we could get into trouble.
I had not the shadow of a fear that Skinny Baker could succeed in
making his escape while Jeremy and Sam were watching over him, and in
eight and forty hours at the longest I would be there to take part in
guarding him.
In my folly it seemed to me that we lads, even though the Britishers
did know we came of so-called rebel stock, were as safe in Philadelphia
as we might be even there at Valley Forge, all of which goes to show
how simple a boy can be who counts with certainty upon the future.
There was very much which Master Dingley had to say to us before we two
were allowed to wander at will through the encampment.
He explained in great detail how we should set about going to this
carnival with the odd name; how we must deport ourselves once there,
and how best avoid attracting attention at the same time that we
lingered near enough to the lobster-backs to hear some part of their
conversation, speaking a great many words which seemed to me needless,
because I believed the task to be so simple.
Only after he had unburdened himself in what seemed almost a tiresome
fashion, did he set us free to go whithersoever we would, agreeing to
meet us near General Washington’s marquee, when we were wearied with
sightseeing.
I felt much like a lad who is suddenly relieved from disagreeable
tasks, when we were thus set free; but before young Chris and I had
wandered very far amid the motley collection of huts, did my joy turn
to mourning, for I saw our people in wretched condition, although later
we were told that they were much improved since winter.
And the question came to my mind whether it would ever be possible for
such an army, half-clad, the majority of them looking as if they had
just come from the hospital, and all seemingly hungry, for I fancied
I could read on the face of each a desire for food, to do aught
of importance against the king’s men. There was little wonder the
lobster-backs called them rag-tag and bobtail, or that they were not
overly afraid of what the poor fellows might be able to accomplish.
I had thought it would be many a long hour ere we were ready to rejoin
Master Dingley, and yet before thirty minutes had passed I was so
heart-sick at the distressing sights, that I urged young Chris to come
away with me where we might not see so much to offend the mind and the
eye.
Although young Chris was not a sensitive lad, he was quite as deeply
impressed by that which we saw as I, and willingly followed me to where
Master Dingley lay on the ground awaiting our coming, as if he had no
other purpose in life than minister to us.
Once we were with him again he continued to explain how we might carry
out our mission, and had so many words regarding it that I was weary
with the hearing, although it would not have been seemly to show
displeasure, because all which the good man said was intended for our
safety.
I would I might dwell upon what we saw at Valley Forge next day; but
because the general order explained all that was to be done, it would
be simply repeating the same matters for me to go over every incident
of that day.
It is enough if I say that everything was carried out as General
Washington had ordered, and we two lads sat more than patiently,
listening to the sermon which was spoken by Parson Hunter, for at such
a time and amid such surroundings did it seem to me as if a pious
discourse was the one thing necessary to finish the sad picture.
How the ragged soldiers cheered General Washington when the last
of the ceremony had come to an end, and he with his wife and the
officers of his staff left the field to partake of a dinner at his
headquarters--not a feast as you might well suppose, but a plain,
simple meal given in token of thanksgiving, as I believed.
The men cheered him to the echo, he turning from time to time to raise
his hat in acknowledgment, and then he was lost to our view, we going
to Master Dingley’s hut where we found of bacon and corn bread enough
to satisfy our hunger, but not sufficient to encourage greediness.
It was near to nightfall by this time, for Parson Hunter’s sermon had
been long drawn out, although it was calculated to touch one’s heart.
Then it was Master Dingley proposed we set out on our return for
Philadelphia, claiming that we might travel with more safety during the
night than in the daytime, and insisting that we take with us a couple
of soldiers as far as Swede’s Ford, lest we meet with Tories nearabout
who would do us harm, for in this neighborhood of Valley Forge there
were very few, so we were told, outside the army, who favored the
Cause.
I was weary and needing sleep, therefore such advice did not come in a
welcome fashion; but I was soon given to understand that Master Dingley
had a care to our well being, for he insisted that we first lie down
in his hut and sleep two hours, after which we should set out on our
return to Philadelphia.
Everything was done as Master Dingley had announced, and it was
nearabout midnight when, arriving at Swede’s Ford, we bade adieu to the
soldiers who had acted as our guides--two men from Massachusetts, and
right pleasant companions were they, who had suffered bitterly all the
long winter, and yet were filled with hope concerning the future.
They spoke so cheeringly of what it would be possible for the American
army to do once summer had come, that I was ashamed of ever having
fancied we might fail in our attempt to teach the king a lesson.
Then young Chris and I set off alone, thinking to make a short journey
of it; but giving so little heed to our steps that twice we went
astray, and the new day was nearly half spent when we came to the falls
where we had left the _Jolly Rover_.
Now it was that, fortunately, I was afflicted with a fit of
timorousness, and declared to young Chris it would be in the highest
degree dangerous for us to continue on during the daylight.
We knew full well that under the happiest circumstances we would meet
with lobster-backs a dozen times before arriving at the place where we
had left Skinny Baker, and it might not be a simple matter to convince
them we were innocent of mischief when they saw us coming from the
direction of the American camp.
Therefore it was I insisted we should lay hidden in the thicket where
the _Jolly Rover_ was concealed, until night had come, and luckily
young Chris fell in with my ideas, not on account of believing the
danger to be great, but because slumber was so heavy upon his eyelids
that he was eager to take advantage of an opportunity to sleep.
In looking back at that time and recalling why we halted at the falls
instead of continuing on, I can but believe that our movements were
directed by some higher power than any on earth, for had we gone
straight on, as would naturally have been our inclination, then had our
time of usefulness as Minute Boys come to a speedy end.
However, as it was we crawled into the thicket; ate such portion
of corn bread as remained from the store with which Master Dingley
provided us, and then fell asleep, counting to be on our way as soon as
the sun had set.
Instead of this, however, so weary were we in body, that when I next
opened my eyes it was dark. I knew by the stars it must be well to
midnight, and hurriedly awakened young Chris that we might get off as
speedily as possible lest another day come before we were arrived.
Because of thus over-sleeping, we did not arrive at the town until
within an hour of sunrise, and then it was too late for us to pull the
_Jolly Rover_ around to the lumber pile. Therefore we left her where
she had been hidden before, and struck straight across the city at our
best pace, for it seemed absolutely necessary we come to the hiding
place before it was light.
We were feeling in fine fettle as we drew near the lumber pile where
we counted on meeting Jeremy and Sam, for it seemed as if fortune was
favoring us in every way.
We had not come across a single red-coat in our tramp through the town,
which I venture to say was owing to the early hour, for we all know
that slumber weighs more heavily upon one just before morning than at
any other time, and the lobster-backs were no exception to this rule.
We were come to the lumber pile just as the first tokens of the new day
appeared in the eastern sky, and, there being seemingly no one in the
vicinity, I said to young Chris that we might both venture to go in at
the same time, instead of waiting one for another, so there would be
less danger of attracting attention.
I was leading the way, and on crawling through the passage, fearing
lest I should startle Jeremy and Sam, I whispered loudly before I was
come to the space inside which formed our prison, that they need have
no fear--that we were friends who approached.
There was no reply to these words of mine, and I was simple enough to
think both the lads had fallen asleep, even though they had agreed that
one should remain on watch all the time lest Skinny Baker escape.
It was dark in there as one might well fancy, and impossible even to
see a fellow’s hand before his face; but I crept on, counting to give
Jeremy the surprise of his life by shaking him into wakefulness.
So well acquainted was I with the place that I could pick out any
particular spot by sense of touch, and went directly to the spot in
which we had left Skinny, which was a sort of niche or corner, where we
could the better guard him.
Then I stretched out my hand in either direction, and as I did so a cry
of horror burst involuntarily from my lips, for I touched nothing save
the rough timbers.
“What is the matter?” young Chris asked excitedly, pressing against me
with an effort to pass, and I replied hurriedly:
“I fail to find anyone here, Chris. Crawl entirely around the place,
and at once, for if anything has happened then are we like rats in a
trap. It stands to reason that in case the lobster-backs have heard
aught of our doings, they will be watching for our return.”
We were like two lads who had suddenly lost their senses, as we crept
here and there, bruising our hands upon the rough planking or joists,
and passing and repassing the same place a dozen times, until when it
seemed to me it must be broad daylight, the fearsome thought forced
itself to my mind that our comrades had been captured.
Neither Skinny nor those who guarded him were in the hiding place, and
we needed no better evidence that they had fallen into the hands of
the enemy, for I knew as well as I knew anything in this world, that
neither Jeremy nor Sam would have taken it upon themselves to carry
the prisoner out of there, whatsoever might have occurred, during my
absence.
It was at the moment as if I were standing at the foot of the gallows,
with a noose made ready for my neck.
CHAPTER VII
IN MORTAL FEAR
The horror which came upon me when I learned that our comrades and
the prisoner had disappeared, and realized that they could not
have vanished save through some work of the lobster-backs, was so
overpowering that during three or four minutes maybe--I had no
knowledge of the passing of the time--I remained silent and motionless,
my hand on young Chris’s shoulder as if depending upon him in some way
for support.
For the first time since I had known the lad was he awed into silence.
He could not have failed to understand, as did I, very much of what had
happened, and realized fully the danger which menaced us.
For awhile my mind was in such a whirl that I was not capable of
connected thought, and then, as the moments went by, each bringing
nearer to us that peril which I believed, and almost was the same as
certain, awaited us outside our hiding place, I began to gather my
wits. For the first time since the terrible blow had come upon me, I
understood that it behooved young Chris and me to be doing whatsoever
we might to insure our safety.
And what could we do, I asked myself, clutching my comrade yet more
firmly by the shoulder as if believing he, without questioning, could
give me the solution to the riddle.
There was no doubt whatsoever but that the lobster-backs had heard from
Skinny that we were gone on a mission to the American army, and like to
return to that very place. Therefore would they keep watch for us, and
that we had been able to get in there without being arrested, was due
to the fact that we had come at the one time of all others during the
night when those who watched would be less keenly on the alert.
“We must leave here at once,” young Chris said, starting up as if
he would on the instant go into the open air, and I seized the
lad roughly, pulling him back until he was where I could hold him
motionless, as I said:
“Have you no better sense than to go out now, when we know beyond a
peradventure that there will be lobster-backs nearabout watching for
us?”
“But we _must_ go,” young Chris cried helplessly. “To stay here is to
be made prisoners.”
“Ay, and to go out is to make certain of being taken into custody.
There is some slight chance we may escape yet if we but hold ourselves
together, striving to hit upon that which is the wisest course.”
“There can be no wise course as we are situated now,” the lad replied
with a choking of the breath that was like unto a sob. “We are the same
as taken already. Do you fancy for a single instant that Skinny would
hold his peace concerning the chances of our return?”
It was as if this question of young Chris’s brought to my mind a plan,
a poor one it is true, and yet better than none at all, therefore I
replied eagerly, thus showing that the idea had just come into my mind:
“If so be there are lobster-backs on watch for us, then must they be of
the belief that we have not yet returned. How we got in here without
their knowledge I know not, save that they must have slept while on
duty, for I dare venture to swear one or more has been placed over this
lumber pile as guard both day and night. Now we are here, and with
the chance that they yet believe we are up the river, it behooves us
to stay until nightfall at the very least. Between now and then shall
we decide how we can best go away without attracting the attention of
those who would send us to the gallows.”
“And think you it will be possible, even after night has come, for us
to get away from here?” the lad asked in a despairing tone, whereupon
I, to hearten him rather than because I believed such matter, replied
with as much of cheerfulness as I could assume:
“It is certain we got in here without being seen, else they would
have nabbed us on the instant, had our approach been known. There is
no chance we could escape if we ventured out in the open day, for not
only would we stand a chance of being seen by those who are on guard
nearby, but the odds are that the hue and cry has been raised against
us, and if peradventure we showed ourselves in the city, someone would
be certain to gobble us up.”
“But we can’t stay here all day,” young Chris moaned. “Fancy sitting
here eating our hearts out with fear that each instant may bring the
lobster-backs upon us!”
“Ay, lad; but think of going out and being haled before a company
of British officers who have formed themselves into what is called
a court martial, and have them decide whether we shall be hanged
to-morrow or next day.”
Young Chris made no reply; but, covering his eyes with his hands, sat
with head bent on his knees, the perfect picture of despair.
Well might he present such a picture, for look upon the situation as I
could, in the most favorable light, I saw but little hope of our being
able to go free many hours longer.
However, it was possible, as I figured the matter in my mind, for us to
remain where we were until nightfall--only possible; but yet why not
take the chances of remaining alive yet a little longer? Why rush out
as Chris would have me to do, into the arms of those who would judge us
as spies?
I could not if I would set down all the horrible ideas which came into
my mind during the long day that seemingly would never come to an end.
Each minute, full of terror as it was, appeared to have been lengthened
into an hour, and the hours were like unto weeks, until it was all I
could do to prevent myself from crying aloud in agony.
Chris still remained with his head on his knee when I fancied noon had
come. It was as if the lad had given up all hope, and I questioned
whether there might not be some difficulty in arousing him when I
believed our time for action was come.
Now and then we could hear voices on the outside of the lumber pile,
and these I made certain were come from those who stood on watch to
seize us.
More than once did I fancy I heard someone creeping through
the passageway to make certain whether we were there, and then
involuntarily I crouched back against the timbers as if I would force
myself through them, straining every muscle until I felt as sore as if
I had been beaten from head to foot.
We gave no thought to hunger; in fact, we were not conscious of lack of
food while the mental agony was so great; but there were times when it
seemed as if I would give half my chances of escape, if indeed I had
any, for water enough to moisten my throat.
Fear had dried my mouth and parched my tongue until it was with
difficulty I could speak, when now and then I would strive to cheer
young Chris from out his terrible despondency.
However slowly the minutes moved, the day finally came to an end, as
all days will whether they bring us good or evil.
While the sun was shining this hiding place of ours was lighted
sufficiently for one to see another; but when evening came the darkness
was so intense that it was only by the sense of touch you could
determine where was your comrade, even though he sat close by your side.
I believe young Chris had remained silent and motionless a full three
hours before this, and then, when we knew that the day had passed, he
said in the tone of one who has lost all hope:
“When may it be to your mind that we make a change? When do you count
on taking the chances of getting away from here?”
“As soon as I believe midnight has come.”
“And have you any faith that we may succeed?”
“Whether I have or no, it is better we make the attempt. God has
thus far been good to us, inasmuch as He has allowed that we remain
here throughout the day without being discovered, and let us hope
His goodness will so far continue that we may be able to get away
undetected.”
“And what then?” Chris asked with a groan. “Where can we go? Surely
not to your home or mine, for if the hue and cry be out against us,
then will the lobster-backs pay frequent visits to the bakery and your
mother’s house.”
“Let us not cross bridges until we come to them, for of a verity we
have trouble enough without looking into the future in search of more,”
I replied sharply, angered because he would persist in striving to
find yet further cause for anxiety when we had so much upon us. “Our
first work is to get away from here, and if so be we should succeed in
leaving this hiding place, then let us take the chances of crossing the
city once more, making our way to Valley Forge, where we know beyond a
peradventure we shall be safe from the Britishers; for however greatly
they outnumber our army, General Howe has not dared to give battle.”
“There is as little hope we can cross the city since the hue and cry is
most likely out, as that we can go straight from this place to heaven,”
Chris said despairingly, and once more lapsed into silence, which was
irritating to me, for of a verity I needed a cheering word now and then
even as much as did he.
Again and again I cast about me to decide what we should do if
peradventure we succeeded in getting away from the hiding place; but
without avail.
Then I fell to counting the minutes, so that I might have some fair
idea of when midnight had come, and in all these ways of making the
time seem to pass more quickly, I failed because of the shadow of the
scaffold which was weighting me down.
It was at the very moment when I said to myself that we might as well
go out and give ourselves up at the nearest guard-house, as to make any
effort toward escape, when I heard a soft rippling of the water just
at the mouth of our hiding place nearabout where we usually moored the
_Jolly Rover_.
On the instant all that spirit which had been driven out of me by the
horror of the situation, came back, for I knew that that which I heard
was not the lip, lip, lipping of the tide; but caused by some living
thing, although it might be only an animal.
“Do you hear that?” I asked feverishly, gripping young Chris by the
shoulder and pulling him toward me, as if by such change of position he
might the better distinguish the sounds.
He, listening for an instant, fell back once more in helpless fear as
he muttered:
“’Tis only a rat, or something of that kind. Perchance a cur which one
of the lobster-backs has thrown into the water; but surely nothing that
may be of avail to us, for there is no one who can help us now.”
I could have pummeled the lad, so great was my irritation because he
refused even to suspect that there might be some in the city who would
try to aid us, and perhaps in my anger I said many bitter things to
him; but I had as well have talked to a stone, so far as making myself
understood was concerned, for young Chris was the same as dead to the
world.
“Whether it be rat or no, I am minded to find out, for surely something
is moving toward this place against the current.”
Chris made no reply, and I crept softly down upon a projecting timber
to which we had always moored the _Jolly Rover_, and, hardly conscious
of what I did, stretched my hand out over the surface of the water,
striving to feel that which was causing the ripples.
Then my heart came up into my throat like to burst the skin, as I
touched the hair of a human being’s head, and an instant later I was
near to losing consciousness because of the wondrous joy that came over
me, as I heard a familiar voice ask:
“Is that you by any good chance, Richard Salter?”
“Me? Ay, that it is, Timothy Bowers! God bless you for having come to
me at this moment when I was near dead with fear!”
“Are you alone here?” and Tim, rising sufficiently out of the water to
clutch the plank on which I was standing, drew himself up beside me all
unaided, for I was so weakened by joy that I could not have raised a
pound’s weight strive however I might.
Mayhap a full minute passed before I was able to speak connectedly, and
then I answered his question by saying that young Chris was near at
hand.
“How did you get inside here without being seen by the lobster-backs?”
he asked in amazement.
“That I know not; we came just before break of day, and saw no one
nearabout. The first we knew that any trouble had befallen our lads,
was when we found this place empty. Tell me what has happened?”
Now, eager as was I to learn the full extent of the danger which
menaced, I clutched Timothy by the throat so fiercely that he cried
out, and young Chris, hearing the noise, asked stupidly:
“Who may be there? Who is raising a noise to give an alarm to those who
would hang us?”
“Arouse yourself, Chris Ludwig,” I cried sharply, creeping back along
the plank to catch him by the arm, for I was minded he should come
out of this swoon of terror as soon as might be. “Rouse yourself, for
here is Timothy Bowers who has come to give us information of what has
happened, even though he may not be able to aid us.”
“How did he come?” Chris asked stupidly, and as I replied, the idea
came into my mind like a flash of light.
“He came as we shall go, lad, by swimming! If he could find his way
here, verily we can follow him out, and we are the same as free this
moment!”
Such words as these could not fail of arousing the lad from his apathy
of terror, and now he was as keenly on the alert as I would have him,
pressing forward in the darkness that he might put his hand upon
Timothy while the lad told his story, which we were burning to hear.
It was little, however, that Timothy Bowers could tell us when we had
recovered sufficiently from our excitement to listen.
He knew naught, save that suddenly he saw Skinny Baker free on the
street, and, coming down to the lumber pile as swiftly as might be,
found two lobster-backs guarding the entrance where we were in the
custom of creeping through into the vacant space beyond.
[Illustration: HE FOUND TWO LOBSTER-BACKS GUARDING THE ENTRANCE.]
Tim had sufficient sense to understand that if Skinny Baker was walking
the streets free, Jeremy and Sam must be in the clutches of the
lobster-backs, and straightway he took every precaution for his own
safety, going to the house of a cousin who lived on Third street beyond
Chestnut, rather than returning home.
While he lay there in hiding during the day, his cousin, who was a girl
of mayhap fourteen or fifteen years, went out on the street, where,
after some time had been spent, she gathered that two rebel lads had
been arrested. No sooner was this information come to her than she
ran plumply against Master Baker, who, pluming himself over the fact
that the British officers were taking some notice of him now that his
son had been able to give what seemed to be valuable information, was
strutting along the street like any turkey cock.
She, dear girl, had wit enough to ask him if he had any news from his
son, for Master Baker had made public the fact that Skinny was missing.
Then it was the Tory told her that Skinny had been held prisoner by a
party of wicked rebel lads; but now was escaped, and those who held him
captive were themselves in jail, where, so he said, he hoped they would
stay until they went to their death.
It was poor information enough to us who thirsted for all the details,
and I was mystified as to why Skinny, who was not a quick-witted lad,
nor one who had courage enough to fight his way through, had succeeded
in shaking off Sam and Jeremy.
However, that was but of little moment so far as our situation was
concerned.
Our company of Minute Boys had hardly more than been formed when two of
them were prisoners, with the chance of being hardly dealt with, and
here under the timbers were three more who must bring all their wits to
bear if they would preserve their freedom.
When Timothy had come to an end of his story, I asked him whether he
had seen any lobster-backs on the shore nearby the lumber pile when he
swam down the stream, and he replied grimly, while I could almost fancy
even in the darkness that there was a smile of content on his face:
“I had no spare time to watch out for lobster-backs, knowing if they
caught a glimpse of my head on the stream they would soon let me
understand I had been discovered, therefore I swam on, giving little
heed to anything save my own progress.”
“But why did you come here, Timothy, when you knew that the
lobster-backs must be waiting for young Chris and me?” I asked.
“That was exactly why I did come,” the lad replied promptly. “There was
in my mind a fancy that you might possibly have done exactly as you
did, and were waiting here in the belief that some of our Minute Boys
would come to your aid. Therefore it was I cast about as to how I could
best make my way to this place.”
“You are a true comrade, Timothy Bowers!” I cried, seizing both his
hands with a grip that caused him to wince with pain. “In all my
reaching out for some means of escape, it never came into my thick head
that one of our lads who called himself a Minute Boy, could or would
come to our aid.”
“I have come,” Timothy said in a laughing tone; “but whether it is to
your aid or no remains to be seen. In fact I misdoubt my being able
to help, and have an idea that I shall rather be a burden upon you,
for where two might swim up the river unseen, three are like to show
themselves, either by noise, or because of so many black objects upon
the surface of the water.”
“You have brought aid, Timothy, even though we are taken next minute,
for it has heartened Chris and me, who were well-nigh dead with
despair, to such courage as I doubt not will bring us through in
safety, for a certain time at least. We are boldened to do great things
now, knowing that at the end of them is, perhaps, our safety, therefore
let us get about the work rather than remain here thinking of what may
happen.”
“In that you are pleasing me exactly,” Timothy replied. “I have no
desire to linger here, and if you are minded to follow me, I am ready
to take to the water; but once there I know not what we shall do,
or which way we are to turn. If I might take you to the house of my
cousin, it would be well; but my aunt has said that if peradventure I
found any of my comrades wandering around the city, I must escort them
to some other place, for she fears that too many boys gathering at her
home would attract the attention of the lobster-backs, thereby bringing
her in danger of arrest.”
“I have thought that mayhap we might find our way back to Valley
Forge,” I suggested, and Timothy cried on the instant:
“No, no, do not venture that way! Simcoe’s rangers went up the road to
Germantown this afternoon, so I heard at the house where I have been
hiding, and who shall say that they are not out in search of you? You
must find some hiding place in the city, and mark you, Richard Salter,
I am of the belief that it is our business to teach Skinny Baker a
lesson which as yet he has not received.”
“What?” young Chris cried in a tone of mingled surprise and fear,
“Would you now, when the hue and cry is out against us, think of paying
Skinny Baker back in the coin which he deserves?”
“Ay, that I would,” Timothy replied stoutly. “The lobster-backs haven’t
got us yet, and it strikes me that we are timorous lads if we give up
at this moment simply because the Britishers are burning to take us
prisoners. It is our business to do whatsoever we may to aid Jeremy and
Sam, for verily they are in sore distress, and you would not forsake a
comrade at such a time?”
The lad caused me to feel shame for myself. He stood in quite as great
danger as did Chris and I, and yet instead of mourning over his fate as
I had done during all that long day, he was reaching out in the hope
to help others--had already taken desperate chances on the chance that
we might have come back, and seemed to have cast aside all thoughts of
self.
Again I clutched him by the hand, and said in a tone which he must have
known was sincerely from the bottom of my heart:
“Timothy Bowers, you are a comrade among a thousand! I have never
known but one who would do as much for a friend, and that one Jeremy
Hapgood, who you say is now in prison.”
“Ay, that’s where he is, Richard Salter; but if you and I are half as
keen-witted as we claim to be, it seems to me we should be able to work
him some good, for the lobster-backs feel so secure of holding this
city that they are grown careless, as you know full well. Once you and
Chris are out of this place, which is much like a rat-trap, I dare
venture to say we can find a chance to hide without bringing danger
upon those who care for us, and what matters though we go hungry for a
day or two, if so be we do all that which we should?”
You can well fancy how I was heartened; how my courage was strengthened
by such words as these from a lad whom I had never believed had it
in him to do brave deeds, and if there was a hero in the city of
Philadelphia that night, I claim it was Timothy Bowers.
He had brought me out from the slough of despond, and I fancied now
it was possible for me to see my way clear, despite the fact that all
those servants of General Howe who wore red coats were on the lookout
to make me prisoner.
“It shall be you who leads the way, Timothy, and we are ready at the
word, unless, peradventure, you think better for us to linger here
awhile longer.”
“This is no place in which to stand idle. The first move is to get
away, for the thick-headed lobster-backs believe there is no question
but that on your return from Valley Forge--and of course Skinny told
them where you had gone--this will be the first place you aim at.
Therefore if so be they fail to see you by to-morrow, I’ll go bail
they’ll search inside here. We have considerable of work before us, for
it is no child’s play to swim against the current.”
“Go you on and we will follow,” I cried, throwing off my shoes that
they might not encumber me while in the water, and young Chris followed
my example. Timothy himself, I learned by sense of touch, was already
barefoot.
Then the brave lad led the way down on the plank where we moored the
_Jolly Rover_, and allowed himself to sink gently into the water in
such manner as not to raise the slightest ripple, we following his
every movement.
I must confess, however, brave though I felt myself to be while he
was talking, there was more than a certain fear in my heart when we
came out from under the timbers, swimming close within the shadow
of the bank, for I feared, and with good reason, that some of the
lobster-backs might be near at hand watching for just such a manœuvre
as we were executing.
Even while we struck out, striving to avoid making any commotion in the
water and at the same time keeping so near Timothy that I could see his
head even in the darkness, I reproached myself for the cowardly fear
and despair which had come upon me during the day.
Now, after all my forebodings, we were going peacefully away from the
hiding place without being molested by the enemy, and all because one
certain lad had come to hearten us, showing that we were selfish indeed
to think only of ourselves when there were comrades in sore distress
needing aid.
I believe that the sense of shame caused by my having shown the white
feather at a time when I needed all my courage, became so great as to
quicken my wits, for even while we swam I bethought me of a safe place
of refuge if so be we might gain it, and, hastening my stroke, I pulled
alongside Timothy as I said to him:
“There is at the Jolly Tar inn the Weaver of Germantown, who is, as
we know, a friend to the Cause, and it must be that Master Targe, the
innkeeper, is also what the lobster-backs call a rebel. If one can
remain hidden in his tavern, why not all of us, and there we shall find
not only shelter, but food.”
“It is the place for us,” Timothy replied quickly, and with a note of
relief in his voice. “Surely there is no other house in all the city we
could come at so easily as the inn.”
As a matter of course this conversation had been carried on in
whispers, and young Chris heard nothing whatsoever concerning it; but
when we turned to enter the creek his curiosity was roused, and he
asked almost angrily if I knew whither we were bound.
“To the Jolly Tar inn, where is the Weaver of Germantown,” I replied
curtly, and then turned all my attention to swimming as swiftly as
might be, for now we were come so near a place of refuge and could see
no one on the bank, it surely seemed as if we should strain every nerve
in order to arrive at the earliest possible moment.
I heard a smothered exclamation of satisfaction from young Chris when I
had spoken, and knew that he understood what we might find if so be we
arrived at our journey’s end in safety.
And this we did, thanks to that same Providence which it appeared to
me had had direct ruling over us from the time we left the falls to go
to the hiding place.
We came up out of the water within a few yards of the inn, taking due
care to make no noise whatsoever, as you may well suppose, and then,
instead of going boldly into the place, for we knew not who might be
there, we circled around the building until it had been possible,
through the windows, to see the interior of every room on the lower
floor.
There was no one to be seen inside save the sour-visaged landlord, who
no longer looked surly to me now that I had good reason for believing
he was a true friend to the Cause.
It is not to be wondered at that Master Targe looked up in surprise
when we three lads, dripping like water rats, and I dare say looking
very much like such animals, entered the tap-room.
While one might have counted ten he stood gazing at us as if having no
knowledge that he had ever met any of the party before, and I, fearing
he might be pleased to forget that I had been recommended to his care,
said in a low tone as I came close to him:
“We would have speech with the Weaver of Germantown, and later with
you, if it be possible.”
“Where have you lads come from?”
“Out of the river,” Timothy replied laughingly, and Master Targe,
taking no heed to what the lad counted was a joke, asked sternly:
“Where before that?”
“Young Chris and I came down from Valley Forge to our hiding place, not
knowing what had happened, and but for Timothy Bowers here, I dare say
before morning we would have been in the hands of the lobster-backs.”
“Why would you see the Weaver of Germantown?” the innkeeper asked, and
this I thought was displaying rather too much curiosity, therefore
replied, not curtly; but in such a tone as showed that I was not
willing to be questioned closely:
“That remains for him to tell you, if so be it is his mind. Master
Dingley sent us here, and I believe we should have speech with him
before saying aught to anyone else.”
To my surprise the innkeeper appeared well satisfied with the reply,
and said in a tone of commendation:
“Verily you are cautious for a lad of your years, and if so be you
continue in the same way, then will there be less difficulty in doing
the work which may be set for you.”
Having said this he came out from behind the bar, where he had been
lounging, so to speak, leaning on his elbows over the wooden counter,
and without bidding us follow him, went through the next room and up a
flight of stairs which I knew led to the apartments in the rear.
Timothy would have hung back to wait for an invitation; but I was
minded to take the innkeeper’s movements as indication that he was
ready to lead us to that man who was called the Weaver of Germantown,
and beckoned for my comrades to follow me.
Within two or three minutes we were standing before this worker for the
Cause, who was periling his life by remaining in the city, and Master
Targe had left the room, closing the door carefully behind him, after
which the so-called Weaver of Germantown took good care to bolt it
securely.
Then, looking from one to the other of us with much the same surprise
as had been shown by the innkeeper, he asked of me:
“Did you fail to meet Master Dingley?”
“Indeed we did not, and came back from Valley Forge this morning, not
knowing that anything in the way of trouble had occurred.”
Then the man, as if simply to gratify his own curiosity, questioned us
as to why we were so soaked with water, and not until I had explained
how it was we succeeded in leaving the hiding place among the timbers,
did he show any desire to hear what we might have brought in the way of
instructions or news.
“Your Timothy Bowers seems to be a boy who can be depended on in time
of trouble,” he said in a tone of satisfaction. “When a lad like him
will undertake to aid his comrades at such risks as he ventured, one
may well put confidence in him. Now tell me what you heard from the man
to whom I sent you.”
In order that the Weaver of Germantown might understand fully all we
had seen and heard, I made an overly long story of the matter, to which
he listened patiently and with deepest interest until I was come to the
end, when he said as if speaking to himself:
“Then it appears that he whom you met believed it would be possible
for boys to keep an eye out over those who are to be at the carnival,
with the idea that something may be learned there. At the time such a
proposition was made to you, it was not known that your prisoner had
escaped, and you yourselves in gravest danger of being brought before
a court martial.”
“Ay, and it seems to me we are come to an end of our rope, so far as
serving the colonies is concerned,” young Chris replied promptly,
whereupon the man looked at him sharply, and said in what I took to be
a tone of irony:
“When danger threatens you are ready to give over calling yourself a
Minute Boy, eh?”
“If you accuse me of showing the white feather, then are you doing a
wrong,” Chris replied hotly. “It is one thing to do all a lad may,
taking such chances as come to those who play the spy; but when is
coupled to it the fact that beyond peradventure the hue and cry has
gone out against Richard Salter and myself, while every lobster-back in
the city has been instructed to search for us, then does it seem as if
we might question whether there was a possibility of doing anything,
save allow ourselves to be taken prisoners.”
“That is as may be, lad,” the Weaver of Germantown replied as if he was
saddened by the fact. “So that you have come to believe you may not go
out of doors without being taken in custody, then indeed has your time
of service come to an end, and we need make no further talk regarding
what is desired by those whom you left at Valley Forge.”
CHAPTER VIII
THE CARNIVAL
I had no idea of being thus cut off from work as a Minute Boy simply
because young Chris had decided it was too dangerous for us to continue
such service, and speaking perhaps more sharply than I should have
done, I said to this man whom we had been instructed to look upon in
the light of a superior officer:
“There is no question of our refusing duty simply because of danger. It
is for you to say where we shall go, and what we must attempt to do,
you knowing all the circumstances. If, peradventure, you send us where
there is no chance to escape being taken prisoners, then is the matter
on your head rather than ours. Do not be so quick to say that we are no
longer of any use to the Cause.”
“And what say you, Master Bowers?” the man asked, turning to Timothy,
and the lad replied with a smile, as if he was well content with the
entire situation:
“I am of much the same mind as Richard Salter. It does indeed look as
though we had little or no chance of gathering information; but I am
ready to make a try for it even at this moment.”
“Well said, lads!” the Weaver of Germantown cried, and clapping young
Chris on the shoulder in a friendly manner, he added, “I have no doubt
but that your backbone will be stiff by the time you have seen your
comrades begin work.”
“There is no need of stiffening my backbone,” young Chris replied
sulkily. “I want it to be understood that I am no nearer showing the
white feather than any other lad in this city; but when it is a matter
of our being hounded by all the lobster-backs General Howe has here,
then does it seem to me a foolish matter to make any attempt save that
of remaining in hiding.”
“Then it shall be you who remains in hiding, and your comrades may go
forth to ply their dangerous business. If there was naught of peril
in this work of ours while we strive to teach the king a lesson, then
could there be no credit attached to what we do.”
“I shall go wherever Richard Salter and Timothy Bowers dare stick their
noses,” Chris cried angrily. “Since you are so sharp for us to show
whether we are like to be timorous, what is the work you would have us
do just now?”
“Remain in hiding three or four days, mayhap, and in less than that
time the Britishers will tire of looking for a couple of lads who
amused themselves by making the son of a Tory a prisoner.”
“That is exactly the question in our minds,” I interrupted. “I dare not
return to my home, for there are lodging British officers who know me
full well, and where else may we go?”
“I allow that Master Targe can take care of you for a few days,
and here in this inn, unless something unforeseen occurs, you will
be almost as safe as at Valley Forge. Content yourselves to remain
indoors, and confined to one room, until I shall give the word. Then it
is my belief that you may venture out with no more danger than before
the Baker lad gave his information; but feeling fairly safe from being
taken into custody save you run upon someone who knows you exceeding
well.”
Such advice as this was much to my liking; it was exactly that for
which I had come, and on the instant I felt as if the greater portion
of all my troubles were swept away, save for the fact that I could not
let mother know of my safety.
However, as to this last I consoled myself with the thought that she
would understand we were not in custody, if she failed of hearing
such news from those lobster-backs who lodged in her house. If,
peradventure, I had been made prisoner, then they would surely give her
information, for, saving the fact that they served the king and were
ready to do whatsoever they might to harm us of the colonies, they were
fairly decent men so far as ordinary acquaintances go.
Then it was that the Weaver of Germantown made a signal, by knocking
upon the wainscoting of the door in a peculiar manner, and straightway,
within thirty seconds perhaps, the innkeeper appeared, whereupon the
two men held a reasonably long conversation in the passageway, speaking
in guarded tones as if it was not their desire we should overhear the
words.
When it had come to an end, he whom we had been told to consider our
commander, said in a matter-of-fact tone:
“You will remain in this house, and the room next this shall be put in
order for you. The three must sleep in one bed, for Master Targe is
not troubled with overly much furniture in this inn of his, and it is
not well the rooms that are ordinarily occupied by lodgers should be
dismantled, lest it appear suspicious to whomsoever might be inclined
to play the spy for the benefit of the Britishers.”
That we were to be taken care of in fairly good fashion all of us
understood half an hour later, when Master Targe himself came into the
room, bringing so much in the way of provisions that the four of us ate
a very hearty supper, and I am willing to swear that young Chris and I
stood sadly in need of the food.
While we ate the Weaver of Germantown discussed the escape of Skinny
Baker, and asked Timothy Bowers many questions concerning it; but, as
I have already set down, the lad knew very little beyond the fact that
the Tory cur was at liberty, and Jeremy and Sam had disappeared.
As a matter of course, we understood that the Britishers were holding
them in one place or another as prisoners, and instead of speaking
regarding what we were to do to aid him in spying, the man, when he was
come to an end of questioning, immediately set about speculating as to
how it would be possible for us to lend a hand to our comrades.
Until he had spoken as if it was no more than a matter of business,
this rescuing two prisoners from the Britishers, I had not so much as
dreamed we might be the means of setting them free; but now, although
no plan had been proposed, a great hope sprang up in my heart that
before we ourselves had fallen into serious trouble, there was a
possibility of showing Jeremy and Sam that the tie which bound us lads
together as Minute Boys was a strong one.
“The first task is to find out where the lads are held,” the Weaver of
Germantown said as if speaking to himself, “and that much I fancy we
can rely upon Master Targe to learn. He has the reputation of being one
who would stand neutral in this trouble ’twixt the colonies and the
king, and the Tories are of the belief they may soon bring him around
to their way of thinking. Surely, they say to themselves, he can be no
rebel, otherwise he would not hold himself aloof from them. Therefore
it is that within the past two months Master Dingley and I have learned
very much from him, he having picked it up here and there when he had
as patrons some of the Tory brood.”
It is not possible for me to set down all we said that night, for
not until a late hour were we three lads willing to go into the next
chamber in order to sleep, so eager had we become over this unformed
plan of liberating Jeremy and Sam.
If, however, we thought it was a task which would be set about
immediately, then was the mistake a grave one, for on the following
morning the Weaver of Germantown flatly refused to discuss the matter
with us when we were come into his room for breakfast, saying, as if
the matter no longer was of great importance to him:
“We will wait until finding out where the lads are confined, before
making overly much talk.”
As a matter of course this did not prevent us lads from talking among
ourselves, and we foolishly laid plans one after another, each of
which I dare say would have been impossible of execution, while our
companion, who it appeared to me, now that daylight had come, was
holding himself aloof from us, refused to take any part.
When another night shrouded the city in darkness, however, we had good
proof that the Weaver of Germantown had not given over doing whatsoever
he might toward aiding our comrades, for then it was, after the
innkeeper had called him out into the passage for a private interview,
that he came back and said to us, as if the information was something
which gave him greatest satisfaction:
“Your lads whom you would aid are confined in the Stone Prison, or, at
least, in the work-house portion of the building, and it would seem as
if the Britishers were eager to give us an opportunity of freeing them,
for there is no place in all the city, so far as I know, that would be
so favorable for our plans.”
Now you must know that this Stone Prison was at the corner of High and
Third streets. The jail itself fronted on High street, and I have heard
it spoken of as the debtors’ prison, while on Third street was another
building joined to the first by a high wall, which formed part of the
yard enclosure, and this was the work-house. There were, in the garret
of this last building, certain rooms set apart for prisoners, in case
the High-street jail proved too small to accommodate all who were under
arrest.
When General Howe took possession of our city and began clapping into
jail all the so-called rebels he came across, he found himself cramped
for places in which to confine his captives, therefore even the State
House was used for confining prisoners of war. This work-house of
the Stone Prison had ordinarily been used by the Britishers as a
guard-house; that is to say, a place where they confined their own
soldiers who were guilty of some slight misdemeanor.
Now, as a matter of course, all us lads knew the Stone Prison almost
as well as we did our own homes, and I could say to within the length
of an inch where some of the wall had crumbled away sufficiently to
give a fellow a foothold, if he dug his toes in deeply, because more
than once had Jeremy Hapgood and I clambered up to the top in order to
look over into the work-house, where the lobster-backs were undergoing
punishment for having been drunken, or disrespectful to some popinjay
of a superior officer.
“If we only knew in what part of the building the lads were held,”
Timothy Bowers said reflectively, and the Weaver of Germantown replied
promptly:
“They are in the attic of the building, of course, where are the cells,
for it does not stand to reason the Britishers would house them with
the red-coats who are undergoing punishment.”
“I will undertake to get inside the yard, on any dark night, within
half an hour, if so be the sentries have not been doubled since I last
saw the place,” I said, and young Chris cried in a tone of derision:
“Much good it would do you to get inside the walls, save you counted on
joining Jeremy and Sam.”
“Nay, nay, lad,” the Weaver of Germantown added quickly. “If so be you
know a way to get to the top of the wall, it may chance we shall hit
upon a plan of going yet further. It should not be a difficult matter
on a dark night, unless peradventure unusually strict guard be kept,
to gain the roof of the work-house from the wall at the corner of the
streets. If I mistake not, it comes well in height to the eaves of the
building.”
“And what then?” Chris asked with a sneer.
“We should at least be nearer the lads then than we are now, and the
remainder is something to be figured out at a later day.”
Then it was that the man refused to hold further conversation with us,
insisting that we go to bed immediately, and, as a matter of fact, we
could do no less than obey.
But it was not possible for him to force us to sleep, and we lay there
on the bags of straw many hours, speculating as to what might be done
if we could gain the roof of the building, or as to how we could come
at those cell-like rooms under the eaves where it stood to reason our
comrades were held.
I fancied I had a scheme which could be worked, if so be the night
was stormy; but I refrained from giving words to it at the time
because Chris was ever ready to make sport of plans formed by another,
therefore held my peace, letting him throw cold water as he would upon
the proposition that we could do anything toward releasing Jeremy and
Sam.
On the following day our Weaver of Germantown, had again seemingly
become indifferent to that which we would do, and held frequent
interviews with Master Targe in the passageway, until we were becoming
wearied of inaction.
It may seem strange that after we had escaped such grave peril,
there was even the lightest whisper of grumbling from us because we
were forced to remain hived up in one room where we were seemingly in
safety. Yet did this inaction so weigh upon me, that before eight and
forty hours had passed I came almost to believe it would be better we
went boldly out on the street, taking the chances of arrest, rather
than stay there cooped up like chickens who were being fattened for the
killing. So I said petulantly to this man who could be so friendly at
times, and again appear so distant that one hesitated to speak to him,
whereupon he replied gravely:
“If you are to accomplish anything in this world, lad, whether it be
playing the part of a spy, or engaging in what some might call a more
honest pursuit, the first thing which you must learn is patience. He
who tires quickly because of the sameness of his surroundings, or
because of a treadmill-like existence, is not the one to climb high
in whatsoever pursuit he follows. To steal from the Britishers their
secrets, or to release two lads who are held under heavy guard as
prisoners, are not simple matters, and he who expects that either one
or the other can be done off-hand without expenditure of time, sets
himself down as a simple.”
As a matter of course that silenced me, and during the remainder of
the day I strove earnestly to appear patient, as if it mattered little
whether I remained there, or went abroad.
One day passed after another, each a weary time of waiting for we knew
not what. Again and again would young Chris insist that it was needless
for us to be wasting the hours if we counted on making any attempt to
aid our comrades, and to all of his complaint and reproaches, for he
was not choice of words, this odd man gave no heed.
There were, in fact, moments when you might have said he failed to hear
the lad, even when young Chris was complaining the most loudly.
Then on a certain day, however, after we had been cooped up in that
small room so long that it seemed to me almost as if I had spent half
my life there, the Weaver of Germantown said suddenly, as if the fact
had but just been borne in upon him:
“Now, lads, I believe the hour has come when you may make the venture.”
“What venture?” young Chris asked sharply.
“That of striving to be of assistance to our people who are fighting
against the king.”
“Do you mean that we may go out from here?” Timothy Bowers asked, and
there was a joyous ring in his voice which told how great the relief,
and how little he regarded the possible danger.
“Since you have been cooped up here General Clinton has arrived to
take command of the troops, and it is to-morrow that this carnival,
which they call the Mischianza, is to be given. Now I propose that
if you lads are willing to make the venture, you shall set off at
nearabout midnight for Southwark, and there loiter around, each taking
a different station, to learn what you may from the guests themselves.”
“What?” young Chris cried in amazement. “Are we going to the carnival?
We whom the lobster-backs will arrest on sight?”
“Ay, that is my plan; but I am of the mind that you will not be
arrested. As a matter of course there will be many servants around the
grounds, and Master Targe has secured for you costumes which will
prove an effective disguise. If you are sufficiently quick-witted, it
should be a simple matter to mingle with the other attendants, waiting
upon the guests whenever you are called. It is by no means certain you
will gain valuable information, and yet I believe there is so great a
possibility that we should take advantage of it. Are you willing to
make the trial?”
“Of course we are, sir,” Timothy Bowers replied gleefully. “To say
nothing of having a chance to take part in the lobster-backs’ carnival,
it will do me solid good to breathe the fresh air once more. There
have been times since I came to this inn when it seemed that I would
stifle, although there is no reason why I make complaint concerning
the accommodations at the Jolly Tar, for he who is in danger of the
gallows, as I count that we three are, should be easily satisfied while
he is allowed to remain at liberty.”
“But what about our comrades who are held prisoners in the work-house?”
I asked sharply, thinking that the Weaver of Germantown had forgotten
them entirely, whereupon he said severely, and in a tone which was much
like that of reproof:
“The imprisonment of two lads is but a trifling matter as compared with
the needs of the Cause. Many a one must undergo imprisonment, or even
give up his life, and thousands upon thousands suffer bitterly in order
that we may accomplish that on which we have set our minds. I know to
a certainty that up to the time of General Clinton’s arrival nothing
had been done in the way of punishing your comrades. I suspect that the
Britishers are waiting until you also can be captured. It is equally
positive no move will be made immediately; surely not to-morrow during
the carnival, and it may be that when the festival has come to an end
we shall find time to look after those whom you would free.”
And now it is, in order that you may the better understand what we lads
did when we literally thrust our heads into the lion’s mouth, or to
what purpose we went this way and that, I must go forward somewhat in
my story, telling of what took place on the following day, even before
I finish speaking of that which we did at the moment when the Weaver
of Germantown set out plainly before us that we were in fact to act
the part of spies, and, if taken while thus at work, there would be no
question but that the gallows would be our final halting place in this
world.
Therefore I propose to set down what was done at this carnival, after
which I will come back and explain how we went about our duties. In
telling of the gaieties which the lobster-backs indulged in, I count
to read from a letter Major Andre himself wrote to his friends in
England, and which now lies plainly before me, it having been captured
at Monmouth among some of the British camp equipment, though why it was
he failed to send the missive I do not understand.
This is what he wrote:
“A grand regatta began the entertainment. It consisted of three
divisions. In the first was the Ferret galley, having on board several
general officers and a number of ladies. In the centre was the Hussar
galley, with Sir William and Lord Howe, Sir Henry Clinton, the officers
of their suite, and some ladies. The Cornwallis galley brought up the
rear, having on board General Knyphausen and his suite, three British
generals and a party of ladies. On each quarter of these galleys, and
forming their division, were five flatboats, lined with green cloth
and filled with ladies and gentlemen. In front of the whole were
three flatboats with a band of music in each. Six barges rowed about
each flank to keep off the swarm of boats that covered the river from
side to side. The galleys were decked out with a variety of colors
and streamers, and in each flatboat was displayed the flag of its own
division.
“In the stream opposite the centre of the city the _Fanny_, armed ship,
magnificently decorated, was placed at anchor, and at some distance
ahead lay his Majesty’s ship _Roebuck_, with the admiral’s flag hoisted
at the foretop masthead. The transport ships, extending in line the
whole length of the town, appeared with colors flying and crowded with
spectators, as were also the openings of several wharves on shore,
exhibiting the most picturesque and enlivening scene the eye could
desire. The rendezvous was at Knight’s wharf at the northern extremity
of the city. By half-past four the whole Company were embarked, and the
signal being made by the _Vigilant’s_ manning ship, the three divisions
rowed slowly down, preserving their proper intervals, and keeping time
to the music that led the fleet.
“Arrived between the _Fanny_ and the Market wharf, a signal was made
from one of the boats ahead, and the whole lay upon their oars, while
the music played ‘God save the King,’ and three cheers given for the
vessels were returned from the multitude on shore. By this time the
flood tide became too rapid for the galleys to advance; they were
therefore quitted, and the party disposed of in different barges. This
alteration broke in upon the order of procession; but was necessary
to give sufficient time for displaying the entertainments that were
prepared on shore.
“The landing-place was at the Old Fort, a little to the southward of
the town, fronting the building prepared for the reception of the
company, about four hundred yards from the water by a gentle ascent.
As soon as the general’s barge was seen to push from the shore, a
salute of seventeen guns was fired from the _Roebuck_, and, after some
interval, by the same number from the _Vigilant_. The company, as
they disembarked, arranged themselves into a line of procession, and
advanced through an avenue formed by two files of grenadiers, and a
line of light horse supporting each file. This avenue led to a square
lawn of two hundred and fifty yards on each side, lined with troops,
and properly prepared for the exhibition of a tilt and tournament,
according to the customs and ordinances of ancient chivalry. We
proceeded through the centre of the square.
“The music, consisting of all the bands of the army, moved in front.
The managers, with favors of white and blue ribbons in their breasts,
followed next in order. The general, admiral, and the rest of the
company proceeded promiscuously.
“In front appeared the building, bounding the view through a vista
formed by two triumphal arches erected at proper intervals in a line
with the landing-place. Two pavilions with rows of benches rising
one above the other, and serving as the wings of the first triumphal
arch, received the ladies, while the gentlemen arranged themselves in
convenient order on each side. On the front seat of each pavilion were
placed seven of the principal young ladies of the country, dressed in
Turkish habits and wearing in their turbans the favors with which they
meant to reward the several knights who were to contend in their honor.
These arrangements were scarce made, when the sound of trumpets was
heard in the distance, and a band of knights, dressed in ancient habits
of white and red silk, and mounted on gray horses richly caparisoned
in trappings of the same colors, entered the lists, attended by their
esquires on foot, in suitable apparel.”
Now then, in this letter of Major Andre’s, he writes many pages
concerning what they did when the knights rode into the field and
fought with lances, and blunt swords, and all that sort of thing,
which it is not necessary I set down. It is this last which is most
important, for in it did young Chris, Timothy and I figure in great
shape, according to our own belief:
Here is the remainder of General Andre’s letter:
“The company were regaled with tea, lemonade, and other cooling liquors
when they entered the house. On the same floor with the ball-room were
four drawing-rooms, with sideboards of refreshments. Dancing continued
until ten o’clock, when the windows were thrown open and the display
of fireworks began. At twelve o’clock supper was announced, and large
folding doors, hitherto artfully concealed, being suddenly thrown
open, discovered a magnificent saloon with three alcoves on each side
which served as sideboards. Fifty-six large pier glasses, ornamented
with green silk artificial flowers and ribbons; one hundred branches
with three lights in each, trimmed in the same manner as the mirrors;
eighteen lustres, each with twenty-four lights, suspended from the
ceiling, and ornamented as the branches; three hundred wax tapers
disposed along the supper table; four hundred and thirty covers, twelve
hundred dishes, twenty-four black slaves in Oriental dresses, with
silver collars and bracelets, ranged in two lines, and bending to the
ground as the general and admiral approached the saloon. Then came the
drinking of healths, and the toasts, and after supper the dancing was
continued until four o’clock.”
That letter gives a pretty good account of the entertainment, so I have
been told. But we three lads who were at the risk of our lives, saw
very little of what was going on, because we were chiefly among the
servants, save when called upon by the gentlemen or ladies to bring
them this or that in the way of refreshments.
You must not suppose that we were among the “twenty-four black slaves
in Oriental dresses,” for our station was not so high. However it had
been brought about, I know not; but certain it is that the innkeeper
of the Jolly Tar had provided us with costumes such as the ordinary
servant wore, and we were told how we should present ourselves at
Master Wharton’s mansion in order to be admitted.
You may say that a person who is telling a story has no right to go
ahead in the narrative in order to describe something which happened
in the future; but I have striven several times to relate it in a
different fashion, failing utterly, therefore must I do as I have
and let you put it down to the truth, which is, that I am but a poor
apology for a story-teller.
Now let me hark back to that room in the Jolly Tar inn where we three
lads were gathered with the Weaver of Germantown, when he astounded us
by announcing that if we were willing to take the chances, then might
we go to this carnival of the lobster-backs.
We all knew full well where was Master Wharton’s country house at
Southwark, and were told that when midnight was come, we must, having
made up in parcels the dresses which we were to wear for the occasion,
set off, and, if possible, conceal ourselves nearabout the mansion.
Then at daylight we were to put on our disguises, which I may say here
consisted simply of what I fancied was a Turkish style of dress, made
of some green and black stuff that completely enveloped the body, being
brought up tightly around each ankle, forming thereby a most comical
kind of trousers and tunic all in one piece.
As a matter of course, the clothing would not serve to hide our faces,
and therein the danger lay.
If so be we did not come upon any who were acquainted with us, and
there was little chance of such an unfortunate happening save in the
case of those officers who lodged with my mother, then were we safe in
embarking upon the venture.
We were to present ourselves boldly at the rear of the house, after
having put on our odd clothing, and from that on it would be the duty
of Master Wharton’s upper servants, or the master of ceremonies, to
direct us to what we should do.
The only matter of which we were absolutely positive was, that in event
of our being discovered, then was death almost certain, for there could
be no question but that we had gone there as spies, and would be dealt
with accordingly.
CHAPTER IX
ON DUTY
It is not needed that I should set down all we said during this night
before the carnival, when we were listening intently, as you may
well suppose, to the advice which the Weaver of Germantown gave us
concerning our behavior.
I dare venture to say there was no desire for slumber on the part of
any of our company. I know for fact that I could not have closed my
eyes in sleep even though life had depended upon it, for every now and
then a cold chill of fear would run down my spine as I realized what
would be the result if I came full upon some one of those officers who
lodged with my mother.
I do not hesitate to say I was given sadly to timorousness during that
time, and if I ever come across a lad who claims to me that he can
venture upon a task which may result in his death, without feeling
certain fear and having many forebodings, then I shall say that he is
either devoid of all feeling, or telling that which is absolutely a lie.
When midnight had come we were made aware of the fact by Master Targe
entering the room without the ceremony of knocking, and having with him
three small parcels, one of which he handed to each of us lads.
Then without a word, and in a grave and solemn manner which called up
all my fears once more, the Weaver of Germantown clasped each of us by
the hand, and Master Targe beckoned for us to follow him.
This we did, leaving the building by a rear door, and when we were come
to the gateway the innkeeper said, speaking curtly as if we had given
him some cause for offence:
“You know as well as I how to find the place where your work is to be
done. Remember that if things go wrong, and you should be persuaded to
confess how you gained admission to the grounds, or how you came in
possession of the clothes which you carry, great trouble would not only
come upon me; but you might involve in disaster those who are working
hardest in favor of the Cause--those who are able to do our people the
greatest amount of good. Now get on, lads; bear in mind that you must
be cautious; that you are holding your lives in your hands; but strive
not to let such fact appear on your faces.”
It seemed to me like a sorry send-off, much as if Master Targe had
little hope we would return, and I have no doubt that both Chris and
Timothy were affected by his words, as was I.
Instead of speaking when we started down the street, both the lads
remained silent, whereupon I fancied they were doing much the same as
I, that is to say, turning over the many, many chances against us in
the hope of finding therein some little ray of hope.
To tell the truth, I had not the slightest idea that we could present
ourselves as servants and carry off the part without coming to grief.
In the first place we knew nothing whatsoever concerning such duties as
would be demanded of us, and I said to myself that if I was required
to serve one of the guests with the least article of refreshment, I
would have no idea as to how it should be done in the manner which the
lobster-backs were accustomed to from those who served them.
There was little or no danger that we would be overhauled on the street
while making our way to Southwark. It seemed as if the lobster-backs,
from general to private, were devoting all their time and energies to
making ready for this foolish exhibition of themselves, for I could
look upon the carnival affair as little better than folly.
The streets were seemingly deserted. We traversed square after square
without meeting a single person. Never before since General Howe came
into our city of Philadelphia had I ventured out nearabout nine o’clock
or after, without coming upon one or more squads of red-coats who were
patrolling the streets to see that we rebels kept under cover.
As the moments passed and we met with no one to oppose our progress, I
grew bolder, and for the first time since leaving the Jolly Tar inn,
ventured to speak.
“We might have waited until morning, and taken matters more leisurely,”
I said with a laugh which had in it little or no mirth. “As matters
stand, we must hide ourselves somewhere in the shrubbery, according to
directions given by the Weaver of Germantown, and I am thinking the
minutes will pass slowly, for it can be no less than six or seven hours
we must remain there under cover.”
“It’s all of the same piece of cloth,” Timothy added cheerily, and
verily that lad was a comrade after my own heart. “It is better we
remain hidden six or seven hours, than that we take what you might be
pleased to call our ease at the Jolly Tar, and then set off to find
ourselves overhauled by the watch, who, seeing these clothes of green
and black, which most like are after the same fashion as those worn by
Master Wharton’s servants, would soon come to understand that a plot of
some kind was on foot.”
There is no good reason why I should use overly many words in telling
what we did on this night, for after we were come on duty, seemingly
being the most attentive of Master Wharton’s servants, happenings came
so thick and fast, and withal so exciting, that to set down our words
while we were walking leisurely toward Southwark, or while we were in
hiding, would be much like a waste of time.
Had we been so disposed, it would have been a simple matter for us to
have gained Master Wharton’s house in considerably less than half an
hour. As it was we took our time, seeing no lobster-backs to interfere
with us, and mayhap spent a full hour, when we were come where it was
necessary to search for a hiding place.
This we had little difficulty in finding close by the rear of the yard,
where grew a lot of bushes so thickly that an hundred or more lads
might have found among them safe cover.
We three lost no time selecting a spot in which to keep our long vigil,
and then settled down with whatsoever of patience we could assume.
I had declared that we must not indulge in conversation while near
Master Wharton’s house, and in this matter Timothy fully agreed with me.
It would have pleased young Chris better if he could have spent the
time talking on this subject or on that, for the lad loved dearly to
wag his tongue; but with Tim and me both setting our faces against
anything of the kind, he could not well do other than follow our
example.
Surely the remainder of that night passed slowly and was wearisome.
Mayhap if there had been something to fear the minutes would have sped
more swiftly; but we felt perfectly secure while remaining among the
bushes, and when the day finally broke it seemed to me as if we had
been crouching there a full week.
After the sun rose we put on our odd garments, not without considerable
difficulty, because it was a puzzle indeed to know how they should be
worn; but we finally succeeded in arraying ourselves in fairly good
fashion, and then came the question of when we should begin our duties.
Young Chris would have gone directly to the house as soon as any of
the inmates were astir; but I insisted that we wait until a throng had
gathered, otherwise were we in more danger of detection. Therefore it
was we stayed in hiding until nearabout eleven o’clock of the forenoon.
From daybreak until that hour, tradespeople, servants, soldiers with
missives from their superior officers to whoever was acting as master
of ceremonies, and, in fact, a host of visitors, came and went until,
as I have said, within an hour of noon I proposed that we make the
venture.
“You shall lead the way,” Timothy whispered, pushing me on in advance,
“and neither young Chris nor I will open our mouths save to echo
whatever you may say if we are questioned.”
Now when we came through a light gateway which marked the rearmost
limit of the servants’ quarters, I fully expected that we would be
brought up with a round turn and asked what was our purpose in being
there. But, much to my surprise, and greatly to my relief of mind, no
one seemingly gave any heed whatsoever to us.
We went on through what might be called the rear yard, until we were
come to the outbuildings where were an hundred or more cooks all busily
engaged preparing for the evening’s festivities, and had hardly more
than made our appearance before some one of the workers called us lazy
fellows, chiding us because we were loitering when there was so much to
be done.
Straightway one who appeared to be in authority set us about this thing
or that, until we three were working as earnestly as if our whole
hearts were set upon making of the carnival a success.
I hardly know what Timothy and young Chris did during the remainder of
this day. As for myself, I was not allowed to spend an idle moment.
Never one there cast a look of suspicion toward me, and it seemed as if
all hands were doing their best to keep me busily employed.
I ran here with one thing, and there with another; was ordered into the
house to carry chairs to the lawn, was sent on to the lawn to stretch
this bit of canvas or arrange that group of flags, until before the
afternoon was half spent I was so weary with work that I could hardly
walk.
What I did or did not do matters little to you, for, since I have
already set down what was done at this carnival, it is as well if I
come at once into the more adventurous part of the tale; first making
it plain, however, that when the people were gathered for the eating,
I had nothing to do save bring from the outbuildings food which I
passed to those gaily-dressed servants who waited upon the guests.
The greater portion of my labors, when the feast was at an end,
consisted in carrying refreshments here and there about the grounds as
I was ordered by this lobster-back or that.
I even served Major Simcoe himself, who had often visited my mother’s
house when he came to see his friends who were lodging there, without
his giving any evidence that he suspected I was other than one of
Master Wharton’s servants.
I could see that young Chris and Timothy were doing much as was I,
for I met them now and then as they scurried to and fro between the
shrubbery and the sideboards, for those officers of the king’s were not
long content if they could not have something with which to wet their
throats, and before the evening was well begun there were no less than
twenty who had best have been taken away where the ladies could not see
their foolish movements.
It was after all that folly of fighting on horseback with lances and
swords had come to an end, and the feast was well-nigh over, that I
waited upon Major Simcoe.
He had with him three other officers of high rank, as I fancied from
their uniforms, who were discussing earnestly, while they walked from
the house to where seats had been placed among the shrubbery, something
which was seemingly of importance to themselves.
I put myself in their way, hoping to be called upon for service. Up
to this time I had heard nothing save idle chatter, and it would have
disappointed me woefully had I gone away from that carnival without
having anything of great weight to impart to the Weaver of Germantown.
If Major Simcoe had been eager to do me a great favor, he could not
have gone about it in a manner that would have pleased me better.
As I came up, seemingly loitering rather than waiting to be bidden
for service, he called out in a tone much as he might have used in
speaking to his dog, that I was to bring wine for himself and the other
gentlemen to such and such a place which he pointed out.
Never was a command obeyed more quickly that day I dare venture to say,
than this one of Major Simcoe’s. I felt positive the men were talking
of such affairs as it would please the Weaver of Germantown to hear,
therefore ran at full speed both going and coming, that I might hear
all which was said, and, as the matter turned, I was not disappointed.
Fortunately for me was it that I chanced to be the one who overheard
that most important of information, for in later days it brought me
recognition from those in the American army whom I most revered.
When I served the gentlemen they seemingly gave no heed to me; it was
as if I had been no more than a stick or a stone.
They began drinking their wine, and it was my duty as a servant that
I stand nearby as if awaiting further orders, or to take away the
glasses, which of course I did, when came certain words which caused me
to prick up my ears to such an extent that if the lobster-backs had not
been so intent upon their conversation, they must have suspected from
the expression on my face that I was something more than an ordinary
attendant.
Major Simcoe began the conversation, or, rather, continued it by saying:
“This Lafayette most like believes he can effect something by taking
post at Barren Hill. Why he should have left Valley Forge I fail to
understand, save it may be that the rag-tag and bobtail are about to
come out from their dens.”
“It is well the ragamuffin crowd start soon,” one of the officers said
with a coarse laugh, “else are they like to be disagreeably surprised.
I have no real complaint to make against our commanding officers, save
that they have set the morrow after an entertainment of this kind for
an important move.”
The third officer added with a laugh:
“Fancy turning out when one has hardly turned in, to march from here to
Germantown, if not further.”
“It will be further than Germantown according to my orders,” Major
Simcoe added quickly. “My force has been drafted to General Gray’s
division, and we are to make no halt nearer than three miles from
Barren Hill. I fancy we are like to start immediately the festivities
have been brought to an end here, if not before.”
I cannot well set down the conversation from that point exactly as
it took place; but this was what I learned from the discussion which
became heated after the gentlemen had partaken generously of wine.
That General Lafayette had left Valley Forge was news to me, and I felt
quite positive the Weaver of Germantown was also ignorant regarding
it. I knew, however, from what these lobster-backs said, that he had
halted at Barren Hill, and I made no question but that this intended
movement of the Britishers was meant as an attack upon the gallant
young Frenchman who had come overseas to lend his aid to us of the
colonies.
It appeared from the conversation, as I have already said, that on
the following morning General Grant of the Britishers, assisted by
Sir William Erskine, would set out from Philadelphia, marching up the
Schuylkill; but how far none of the gentlemen who were talking appeared
to know.
A second force under General Gray, of which Major Simcoe had spoken,
was to advance until arriving within three miles of General Lafayette’s
position.
Then was to come a third detachment under Sir Henry Clinton himself,
which would pass through Germantown up to Chestnut Hill, and from there
on as might be determined.
Now all this was to be done on the following morning, and it seemed to
me of the greatest importance that I should get word to the Weaver of
Germantown without delay, for it was then late in the evening, and he
who could gain Valley Forge before the morrow’s dawning must needs be
well mounted.
Unless Master Targe could provide horses, we had no means of making
our way up the Schuylkill save by boat as far as the falls, and thence
on foot, which would give the Britishers ample time to carry out their
plans for surprising General Lafayette, before we could get word to his
ears.
It seemed to me necessary I should leave the place at once, and make
all speed toward the Jolly Tar inn. In fact, I was burning to get away
from those three officers who were taking more of wine than was good
for them, and who demanded that I bring this or bring that until I was
well-nigh distracted.
Having gone to the house at least the fourth time for more in the
way of refreshment, and chancing to come upon another fellow who was
dressed in similar fashion to me, I gave him the bottle which I had
just gotten from the kitchen, ordering him, as if I had the right, to
carry it out to Major Simcoe and attend him and his companions until
they should no longer require any service.
Fortunate indeed was it for me that this fellow whom I had lighted upon
by chance was no regular servant of the house, otherwise would he have
questioned my authority.
As it was, however, being most like someone who lived nearby and had
been hired for that occasion only, he meekly did my bidding, and then
was I again fortunate in coming full upon Timothy Bowers, who at the
moment appeared to have no particular service to perform.
Leading him out of doors where I could make certain no one might
overhear me, I told the lad that I had heard such information as
seemingly made it necessary for us to seek out the Weaver of Germantown.
When he would have asked what it was I had learned, I put him off by
saying there was no time in which to repeat the words; but begged that
he with me strive to find young Chris, so we three together might make
some move toward getting away without arousing suspicion.
No less than ten minutes were spent in finding the baker’s son, for
both Timothy and I were forced now and then to cease the search in
order to wait upon some impatient guest who demanded our services; but
finally we three were come together near the rear of the house, where
none save the upper servants might know we were neglecting our duties.
I had just began to explain to young Chris why I believed we should
run the risk of leaving Master Wharton’s grounds without delay, when
suddenly from the direction of the city came the long alarm roll, as a
glare of light burst up from half a dozen sections at the same instant.
My heart came into my throat, so to speak, for there could be but one
explanation for all this.
Our army of rag-tag and bobtail, as the lobster-backs were pleased to
call the “rebels,” had made an attack, and now was come the time, so
I said to myself, when the Britishers would find out of what metal we
were made.
I was not the only one who believed that the American army had at last
come out from its hole, as Major Simcoe said in derision, for every
lobster-back at the carnival was seized with what might well be called
a panic.
There were hurryings to and fro, and shouts for the privates who were
on guard at every part of the grounds; cries from one to another while
the half-intoxicated lobster-backs tried to come together, as if
believing it was necessary to defend themselves.
In fact, confusion reigned, and all this time could we see in the
direction, as it appeared to me, nearabout Chestnut and High streets,
at what I judged were the outposts, flashes of light as if the
buildings were in flames.
It is impossible for me to give a very clear account of just what I
did see and hear at the time, for I was so excited, so wrought up in
the hope, and the belief, that at last our people were making a bold
attack, I was more like one in a fever than a lad who has been engaged
in a service which requires that he shall keep his head steady.
“Our people have made an attack upon the lobster-backs at last!”
young Chris cried, clutching my arm, and on the instant I clapped my
hand over his mouth, for there were servants standing nearby who,
overhearing his words, would understand that we were not there by
right, and mayhap we might be taken prisoners even at the very moment
of what seemed to be our triumph.
It was Timothy Bowers who gathered his scattered wits more quickly than
any of us three, and coming so close to Chris and me that his face
almost touched ours, he said excitedly:
“There is no question whatsoever but that our people are making
an attack, and it stands us in hand to get out of here as soon as
may be. Perchance the opportunity will come when we can be of more
assistance to the Cause than idling around here with a party of drunken
Britishers.”
Whether we might be of assistance or not, I understood full well that
this was the moment when we must make our escape from Master Wharton’s
house, otherwise we might find it difficult to explain our sudden going.
As the confusion increased, the officers running to and fro giving
orders to the guards, and at the same time striving to prevent the
ladies from understanding that danger threatened, no one was near
at hand to give much heed to us, therefore it was I said quickly,
stripping off the foolish garments I wore without making any attempt
to undo the fastenings properly:
“Get out of these fanciful rags as quickly as may be, and follow me!”
Even as I spoke had I torn from my person all that regalia of the
carnival, and started at full speed in as direct a line as possible for
the flames which I could see shooting up toward the sky, as it appeared
to me, in almost every direction for a distance of four or five squares.
As a matter of course Timothy and young Chris followed close at my
heels, and, fortunately for us, those of the lobster-backs who were
setting out were too much excited, too thoroughly overcome by the
copious draughts of wine they had drank, to give any heed whatsoever to
matters save such as concerned their precious selves.
Verily I believe at that moment every blessed one of the king’s gang
fancied the moment had come when he must stand up against our rag-tag
and bobtail, and battle for his life.
Never before nor since have I been so excited and exultant as when I
ran with all swiftness, expecting to find the Britishers drawn up in
battle array, as indeed we did see them later, and believing that now
was come the time when we of Philadelphia might pay back in the same
coin we had received, some of that debt owed to those who made up the
king’s army.
We gave no heed to that which was immediately before us; but rather
kept our eyes fixed upon those long tongues of flame darting
heavenward, which to us were tokens of greatest hope.
When we were come well toward Walnut and Front streets, I was suddenly
seized by some person who darted from out the shadow of the buildings
nearby, and brought to a standstill so suddenly, that but for the grip
of the stranger upon my coat I should have fallen to the ground.
For an instant, I believed, and with good reason, that it was one of
the lobster-backs, who, having learned what we had ventured upon that
day, was making a capture on his own account.
I would have cried out to warn my comrades; but they, so swift was
their pace, came full upon me, staggering from the impact as our bodies
met, and at the same instant I got a fair view of him who held me.
Then all my fear was changed to rejoicing, for it was none other than
the Weaver of Germantown who had thus made me prisoner.
“What is it? What is it?” I asked excitedly. “Have our people made an
attack?”
“I am inclined to believe it is nothing more than a feint; but for
what purpose I fail to understand. However, lads, it has come to us in
a good moment, and it would seem that Providence is on our side, else
I would not have met you. When the first alarm was given I set off to
seek you, and lo and behold you come into my very arms, as it were. Now
is the time when we may accomplish that which a twelve-hours ago seemed
well-nigh impossible.”
“Accomplish what?” young Chris cried excitedly. “Is it true that we may
be able to help our army?”
But for his haste and excitement I believe the Weaver of Germantown
would have laughed aloud, and with good reason, at the idea of Chris’s
that we lads might help those brave fellows who, perhaps, had come down
from Valley Forge.
However, the minutes were too precious to admit of anything in the way
of levity, and he brought me to a sense of the situation with the same
suddenness that one who is heated receives a shock when he plunges into
cold water, for he said sharply and yet in a guarded tone:
“Now, if ever, is the moment when we may be able to help those lads who
are imprisoned. The Britishers are fearing for their own safety. Every
man who wears a red coat, save those who are on guard in different
parts of the city, and very like many of them, will rush immediately to
the outposts, believing an attack is imminent. If so be we are inclined
to take many chances, I am of the mind that it will be possible to do
very much toward showing your comrades we have not forgotten them.”
It was like laying a hot iron on a fresh wound, these words of his, so
far as I was concerned, for on the instant I was aflame, and it seemed
to me there was nothing, howsoever venturesome, I would not dare upon
just at that moment.
Instead of stopping to make any explanation, or lay any plans, the
Weaver of Germantown, pulling me sharply around by the arm, said in a
tone of command:
“Now lead the way, lad, to that corner of the work-house wall which you
are able to scale, and lose no time about it.”
He need not have added these last words, for with the possibility in my
mind that I might take part in the freeing of Jeremy and Sam, nothing
short of strength greater than mine could have prevented my going
forward at the best pace of which I was capable, and there is little
need for me to say that both young Chris and Timothy were equally eager
to carry out this attempt, if so be it might be made.
It seemed to me I had never before moved so sluggishly; my desire was
so far in excess of ability, that it was as if my feet were glued to
the streets, and yet I dare say never before had I run so swiftly.
The confusion roundabout us increased rather than diminished. Here,
there, and everywhere, I might say, could be heard the tramp of feet
as the lobster-backs were being rushed to the scene of apparent
danger, and we might have boldly proclaimed that we were the lads whom
General Howe was eager to hold as prisoners, without anyone giving the
slightest heed to us.
Excited though I was, and reaching out in my mind so eagerly toward
those imprisoned comrades of ours, I could hardly repress a smile and a
certain desire to give vent to cheers, as I saw that the lobster-backs,
although outnumbering by three to one our so-called rag-tag and bobtail
of an army, were thoroughly alarmed now that there seemed a possibility
they might be called upon to stand face to face with them.
It had been the boast of all those red-coated officers whom I had heard
talking, that their one aim was to come up with General Washington’s
imitation army in order to show what British regulars could do, and now
the opportunity was seemingly theirs, they were overwhelmed with fear.
One might almost fancy that the braggarts were trembling, despite the
Dutch courage they had imbibed during the evening, as they ran here
and there, some of them aimlessly as it seemed to me; but all incited
by the same thought, that those poor wretches who had starved and
been half-frozen at Valley Forge during the winter, were come to make
reprisals.
I dare venture to say that as I led the way to the work-house adjoining
the prison, I took the most direct course possible, never deviating so
much as one yard from a straight line, save, as a matter of course,
where the buildings forced us to make a detour here and there. Across
yards, down alleys, and whichever way I knew to be the nearest, for all
this part of the city was as familiar to me, and to my comrades who
were following, as was any room in our homes, we ran at our best speed.
When, finally, we were come to that place at the wall of which I had
told the Weaver of Germantown, the flames were yet soaring skyward,
although the tumult in the streets had decreased to a certain extent
because the hurrying lobster-backs were already out of earshot.
Never a living being, inside or outside the prison or the work-house,
was to be seen.
There were lights in the upper part of the building where we had been
told Jeremy and Sam were held prisoners; but no token of life other
than that could we see or hear.
“Now is the time when one of you lads must make the venture in order
to learn whether the rest of us can safely follow,” the Weaver of
Germantown whispered hurriedly. “Whosoever is most familiar with the
wall, and the yard inside, shall go ahead, and if he comes not into
danger, then will the rest follow. If peradventure he finds himself
in the clutches of a guard, then must he give the alarm by screaming
loudly, and we shall have failed even to the extent of giving the
lobster-backs a third prisoner.”
[Illustration: SCALING THE JAIL WALL.]
If he had other to say, I did not wait to hear it. Knowing full well
how I could scale that stone wall, I started upward, giving no heed
that the crumbling fragments of stone tore the skin from my hands until
they were bleeding.
Having come to the top, I was too greatly excited to look down in order
to make certain whether the coast was clear; but immediately allowed
myself to drop inside, and not until then did I wait to learn whether I
might have given an alarm.
Save for the distant hum where the lobster-backs were gathering, I
heard nothing. So far as any token of life was concerned, the building
which served General Howe as an additional prison for us rebels, might
have been tenantless; but, and this question came into my mind almost
on the instant that I looked around me and learned that there were no
guards near at hand, how might we come at the prisoners even though we
were inside the walls?
If that which had been learned was true, they were confined in the
upper story, and unless peradventure we were bold enough to make our
way directly up the stairs through the main door, then I saw no way of
effecting our purpose.
Even while I stood gazing with dismay at the gloomy building, and
wondering in which part of it our comrades were confined, something
pliable struck me a sharp blow on the arm, and, turning quickly,
alarmed, I saw dangling from the top of the wall a thin rope.
Afterward, when we had finished this adventure, I learned that the
Weaver of Germantown had some time before counted on making the attempt
of gaining the work-house yard in the same manner which we were now
doing, and began his preparations by having prepared for him two coils
of thin, stout rope which he could carry readily concealed about his
person.
It was not needed anyone should tell me what to do when I saw that
length of line dangling from the top of the wall, swaying to and fro
like a writhing serpent.
On the instant I laid hold of it, placing my feet against the
stone-work, for I understood full well that those who were on the other
side would use this to aid them in scaling the wall.
I had hardly put my weight upon the rope when it was pulled violently,
and I forced to exert all my strength in order to hold it steady.
Then I saw a figure above, which I knew to be none other than the
Weaver of Germantown, and when he had come down to stand beside me,
young Chris followed. A few seconds later Timothy Bowers did the same,
and we four were standing within the shadow of the wall, turning our
faces mutely toward the man on whom we relied for instruction.
“One of you will remain here in order to hold steady this rope,
and help whosoever may come out, to scale the wall,” the Weaver of
Germantown whispered cautiously; but so that we all might hear the
words. “Another will stand by the main door to give warning if any
approach from the street, while the third is to follow me.”
“And how do you count on gaining entrance to the work-house?” I asked
in surprise, whereupon he replied in a matter-of-fact tone, as if
it was a simple matter thus to venture where, in his case at least,
capture meant death:
“We shall never again have such an opportunity as this. I am counting
that all those who were left on guard have gone out into the street
to learn the reason for the alarm, or are in the prison building.
Therefore is it in my mind to walk boldly inside. If peradventure we
come upon the enemy, then it will be a case of endeavoring to the
utmost to make our escape, and, failing, yield ourselves as prisoners,
with the knowledge that we were taken in a good cause, for surely he
who fails while trying to aid a friend cannot charge himself with
foolhardiness.”
CHAPTER X
IN THE LION’S MOUTH
During all this time of excitement, which began with the seeming attack
upon the British lines, I had entirely forgotten that information which
I gathered at the carnival.
Now, however, when we were about to venture into the lion’s mouth, as
you might say, it came upon me like a flash, and with it the belief
that I should immediately tell the Weaver of Germantown what I had
heard; but yet, while the words were trembling on my lips, I held my
peace.
At the same instant there came to me the thought that if peradventure
this man believed the information of such great moment that our people
at Valley Forge should hear of it without delay, he might, instead of
going on with this attempt to aid our imprisoned comrades, consider it
his duty to turn about and lose no time in reaching the American lines.
Therefore it was I showed myself very nearly a traitor to the Cause,
for the imprisonment, or even the life, of my two comrades might be
as nothing compared with the possible advantage to the colonies which
would come with the repeating of those words I had overhead.
When it was all over, and I had time to think calmly of my course,
I gave to myself no little blame for not having told the Weaver of
Germantown, when we first met him, all that I heard. However, I did
not, and, fortunately, as it turned out, no particular harm was done.
You can well fancy that I did not loiter in the yard speculating upon
these things, for the Weaver of Germantown had given us no opportunity
for idling. That which I have set down concerning what I ought to have
done came into my mind like a flash, and as a flash dies out, so did
that go from me until, even though it might be called much the same as
treason, I gave no further heed to the matter.
And now that which I have to tell sounds at this day, even in my own
ears, much like a fanciful tale rather than a statement of fact; but
yet there was good reason why our adventure proved to be a simple one.
The Britishers were frightened well-nigh out of their wits, and instead
of thinking that they must care for the prisoners, seemingly gave no
heed to anything save the safety of their own precious bodies.
We left Timothy Bowers on guard at the rope with orders to keep his
ears wide open for the sound of approaching footsteps. Then, when
we were come to the main entrance of the building, the Weaver of
Germantown turned to young Chris, taking him firmly by the shoulders as
if to make the lad understand that the command which he was giving must
be obeyed without a question, and whispered sharply:
“You are to stand here, lad, until either we return, or you have good
proof of our having been taken prisoners. Keep your wits well about
you. At the first token that any approaches, either from the prison
side or the street, open this door and cry out at the full strength
of your lungs, after which it shall be your purpose to save yourself
by going over the wall with the aid of the rope, or in whatsoever way
seems best at the moment.”
Then he opened the door, which strangely enough had been left
unfastened, and walked inside as if simply visiting a friend, I
following him as can well be fancied, keeping so close to his heels
that he could not have taken a step backward without treading on my
toes.
The passageways were lighted by candles, and I saw on every side
doors which were closed, but evidently led into those rooms serving
as guard-houses for the lobster-backs who had infringed some of his
majesty’s rules regarding the conduct of soldiers who wore red coats.
There was little time, however, for me to give heed to the immediate
surroundings. The Weaver of Germantown continued straight on up the
stairs as if he knew exactly where it was needed he should go, and,
having gained the second story without hearing or seeing any sign of
life, began trying those doors which led to the rooms at the rear
of the building, at the same time speaking through the keyholes
sufficiently loud for the inmates to hear:
“If the lads who are Minute Boys be confined here, let them give some
token.”
Three times was this repeated at these several doors, and each instant
I stood trembling in my shoes, expecting that from below, or out of one
of the many rooms, would appear the lobster-back whom one might suppose
had remained on guard; and then came from the inside of the third
apartment a voice which I knew to be Jeremy’s:
“Have our people taken the city?”
Instead of making reply to this question, the Weaver of Germantown set
his shoulder against the door, motioning for me to do the same, and
then it was that I saw the man exert an amount of strength which seems
almost incredible.
At the second attempt he shattered the barrier, carrying away lock
and bolt, as a matter of course, and making so much of a tumult, that
if there had been any lobster-back inside the building he must have
understood what was going on.
No one appeared to oppose us; no word was heard from the lower story,
or from any of the other rooms, when I, following the Weaver of
Germantown, after the door was broken in, seized Jeremy around the
neck, kissing him much as I might have kissed my mother; Sam meanwhile
pressing closely, asking, as I dimly understood, a multitude of
questions as to how we had come there and what was the meaning of the
tumult abroad.
The man who had served us such a good turn in thus coming at the
prisoners, was not inclined to allow us to linger in the work-house,
nor did I have any desire so to do.
He literally shoved Jeremy and Sam, together with me, out into the
passage, and then made his way down the stairs at a swift pace, while
we followed, for to have loitered a single instant there would have
been worse than folly.
At each step we took toward freedom I believed we must of necessity
come upon some of the enemy, for it did not seem possible, and even now
appears most improbable, that we could have done all which we did.
We came down the stairs into the main passage, out of the door at which
young Chris was standing guard, and then, if you will believe me, the
Weaver of Germantown went directly to the main gate, where he found
free exit, for whosoever had been on guard and ran out when the alarm
that the Americans were come had been given, did not take the trouble
to fasten the barrier behind him.
Instead of climbing over the wall by the rope, and thereby spending
many precious moments, we might have marched directly in as if we were
welcome visitors, gone about our business, and come out even as we did
without a scratch and without hurrying.
There was little need to summon Timothy, for, seeing us open the gate,
he came quickly forward, and we six went out into the street free, even
though we were in the midst of all that British army.
We had released two of General Howe’s prisoners without turning a hair,
and now it only remained that we should find some hiding place.
As may be supposed, the Weaver of Germantown led us by the nearest
course to the Jolly Tar inn, save when one of us lads suggested that
we go through this alley or across that yard in order to avoid the
possibility of coming upon some of the lobster-backs; and yet we need
not have been afraid that they would be met, for every blessed one of
those who had come from overseas to flog us into loving the king, was
gathered nearby where it was supposed our American army was drawn up in
line of battle.
Even while we ran the rattle of musketry began, and if anything had
been needed to strengthen my belief that a battle was near at hand,
that would have been sufficient.
I quickened my pace sufficiently to overtake the Weaver of Germantown,
who was a short distance in advance of me, and, clutching him by the
arm, asked if it were not better we should go where our people were
doubtless making a brave effort to whip the enemy.
But he said curtly, and as if he no longer had very much care regarding
what was being done:
“Even though we should approach directly to the line of battle which
the Britishers have doubtless formed, it would be impossible to come
at our people. The one duty just now is to ourselves, and we can only
perform it by getting under cover.”
Not until we were come to the Jolly Tar, and had reconnoitred by going
to the rear of the building and looking through the windows to make
certain there were no patrons inside, did we hear the fusillade from
where the flames were shooting up.
Then Master Targe opened the door to give us admittance, and his house
looked just at that time as if it was barricaded, he having piled the
furniture against the doors on the inside as if expecting an attack.
The sounds of the battle continued; but before we were again in that
room where I had first seen the Weaver of Germantown, the commotion
died away, the flames subsided, and it was as if whatsoever had been
begun was at an end.
“Have our people been whipped?” Timothy asked in a tone of fear, as
the door was closed behind us and Master Targe went down the stairs
to put his tavern in a state of defence once more, and the Weaver of
Germantown replied laughingly:
“I am of the opinion they were not there to be beaten, lad. Our people
knew full well of this carnival which was being held, and it is in
my mind that some of the younger blood have taken advantage of the
opportunity to give the Britishers a scare, in which verily they have
succeeded.”
It may be as well here for me to explain at once, and without waiting
for that day when we learned the particulars, all that had occurred
which was so greatly to the advantage of Jeremy and Sam.
It appears that Colonel Allen McLane, who was of General Lafayette’s
force that had come to Barren Hill, decided to break up the
entertainment without very much of danger to himself or to his men,
and, as has been seen, he succeeded most gloriously.
With one hundred and fifty soldiers in four divisions, and supported by
Clow’s dragoons, those brave fellows came, each carrying a camp-kettle
filled with light wood on which pitch and tar had been smeared, down to
the first line of British defences.
There was set on fire the fuel which had been brought, and the men
remained sufficiently long to make reply to the first volley which the
frightened red-coats fired at random.
It was only a prank, and verily our men, after their long time of
suffering at Valley Forge, had earned the right to indulge in a little
sport, more particularly when they could have the intense satisfaction
of seeing all General Howe’s supposedly brave troops show the white
feather as it had been displayed that night.
It was all a bit of sport, as I have said, and yet nothing save a
general attack of our people upon the enemy could have served Jeremy
and Sam such a good turn. But even that opportunity would have been
lost except for the Weaver of Germantown, who understood on the instant
what might be done, and who was enabled, under Providence, to come upon
us when he had little or no definite idea as to where we might be found.
Whenever I am low-spirited, or inclined to believe that Fortune
has dealt hardly with me, I look back upon that night, remembering
what grew out of the prank which Colonel McLane played upon the
lobster-backs, and then realize full well that howsoever far we are
from deserving favors, there is above us all a loving care which,
finally, if we give it the chance, leads us into the right way and to
our own safety.
As a matter of course, we had made no attempt at conversing one with
another while making our way from the work-house to the inn; but once
inside the building our tongues were unloosened, as Jeremy and Sam
insisted upon our giving a detailed account of what had happened since
they were taken prisoners.
“It is you rather than we who should play the part of story-tellers,”
I said, feeling so overjoyed at our wondrous success that it was with
difficulty I could restrain from embracing each of the dear lads in
turn, and thereby showing myself a veritable simple. “What we are
burning to know is how you chanced to have fallen into the clutches of
the lobster-backs, and allowed Skinny Baker to go free?”
“It wasn’t with our permission that he went free,” Jeremy replied
laughingly, and young Chris asked sharply, as if minded at this time of
great joy to find serious fault with those whom we had rescued:
“How then did it chance that the lobster-backs came upon you? Surely it
must have been through some carelessness of your own.”
“If anyone is to be blamed in the matter, it is you, Chris Ludwig!” Sam
cried sharply. “We might have stayed there holding Skinny a prisoner
until this time, save for that unruly tongue of yours.”
“Me?” Chris cried in surprise and anger. “What did I have to do with
it? I was at Valley Forge when you allowed yourselves to be taken.”
“Ay, that you were; but before going you told Mark Duren that we were
counting on raising a company of Minute Boys, and in your eagerness
to get recruits, even went so far as to tell him of our rendezvous,
explaining how he might make his way through the timbers to come at us.”
“And why shouldn’t I tell him?” young Chris cried, growing yet more
angry. “He is one who favors the Cause, and showed himself most willing
to join us.”
“When has he ever favored the Cause? You knew, or should have known,
that he was a close comrade of Skinny Baker’s, and when that young
Tory was missing, Mark went directly to Master Baker, reporting to him
that which you had said. There is no need of further explanations,
for even though Skinny’s father be a Tory, he is not a fool, and
straightway, after hearing what Mark had to tell, he asked for a squad
of lobster-backs to aid him. The first information we had that you were
so incautious as to reveal our hiding place, was when Master Baker
himself appeared, followed by two red-coats.”
“Didn’t you hear them coming?” Timothy asked, and Jeremy replied sadly:
“Ay, lad, we did, and believed it was Richard Salter and young Chris,
therefore stood ready to welcome them, rather than taking heed to our
defence. Even then, but for Skinny himself, we might have escaped,
perhaps by leaping into the river; but the currish Tory threw himself
in our way, and betwixt him and his father we were speedily made
helpless.”
On hearing this story I blamed myself even more than young Chris, for,
knowing the lad as I did, it should have been my one aim to prevent
him from going out while he was so excited over the matter of raising
recruits for the Minute Boys. I ought to have known he would have done
just the same foolish thing which he did, thus bringing Jeremy and Sam
to grief.
At almost any other time I would have read young Chris a lesson which
he would not speedily have forgotten, because of what he had done; but
at this moment, when our comrades were with us once more after having
been literally plucked from out the lion’s mouth, my joy and relief was
so great that I could not have found fault or spoken a harsh word to my
bitterest enemy.
I believed the others felt much as I did, and young Chris, who now
understood what a serious injury he had done his friends, took refuge
in what was very like a fit of sulks, throwing himself on the floor in
one corner of the room as if he no longer desired to hold converse with
us.
During a full minute the silence was most painful, for we realized how
greatly one of our Minute Boys had sinned against the Cause, and yet no
lad felt inclined to say aught concerning his crime.
It was during this time of silence that again I remembered what had
been overheard during my service as servant at the carnival, and
straightway I repeated, so far as was possible, exactly the words which
I heard from the lobster-backs, the Weaver of Germantown showing by the
expression on his face that he considered my information of greatest
value.
“Verily much has been accomplished within the last four and twenty
hours,” the man said in the tone of one who is deeply impressed, when I
had come to the end of my story, and I ventured to ask:
“Then you think that which I heard is of importance?”
“Ay, lad, of such vital importance that this night the six of us shall
set out, each going by a different route, in an attempt to gain Barren
Hill before daylight, in order to let General Lafayette know what he
may expect.”
“But why should each go by a different way?” Sam asked curiously, and
the Weaver of Germantown replied gravely:
“Because, lad, after such a scare as the Britishers have had this
night, I am of the opinion that we shall be more closely shut in than
ever before. Even though they had not been nearly frightened out of
their wits, General Howe or General Clinton is good soldier enough to
understand that this is the time when they must guard closely against
such people as we are striving to be, lest word be carried to the
rebels. It is more than likely some of us will be taken prisoners in
the effort to leave the town, and therefore would I have it that each
goes in his own way, without taking counsel of the others, to the end
that one, if not more, may succeed in carrying the message. Now then,
Richard Salter, repeat again that which you heard, and each of you
lads, including you, Master Ludwig, listen intently, so that you may
impress it upon your memory, for we may not safely set down in writing
the information we carry.”
Then it was that I told again, and in the fewest possible words, what I
had heard while serving the lobster-backs during the carnival, and each
of my comrades, including young Chris, listened with such eagerness
that one might know by the expression on their faces how hard everyone
was striving to remember all I said.
Having come to an end of the story, I, without giving due heed to the
words, asked Jeremy Hapgood how he counted on gaining Barren Hill,
whereupon the Weaver of Germantown interrupted us quickly, as he said:
“Nay, nay, lads, none of that! I would have each of you go
independently, not knowing what the others may do, to the end that we
shall have the more chance of succeeding in our mission, for I give you
my solemn word that at no time in your lives, however long you may stay
on this earth, will you be charged with so much of vital importance to
those who love the colonies.”
Then, when we would have lingered, the spy forced us out of the room,
saying as he did so:
“Waste not one single second; but from this moment until you can have
had speech with General Lafayette’s force, bend every effort to
getting within our lines.”
He himself set the example by going to the lower floor, where during
two or three minutes he held a whispered consultation with Master
Targe, we lads standing back meanwhile, for it was evident he had no
mind we should hear that which he said.
The innkeeper himself opened the door for us, and as I passed through,
following directly behind the Weaver of Germantown, this surly-visaged
landlord clapped me on the shoulder in a most friendly fashion.
I can conceive of nothing which would have given me a more vivid idea
of the danger attending this attempt, than that act of his, for it
was so little in accord with his general manner that at the moment it
seemed almost as if he was bidding me good-bye forever.
Perhaps it was well I should have had this reminder of what lay before
me, for if I had previously been inclined to carelessness, of a verity
now were my wits quickened. Waiting not to learn what my comrades might
do, I set off, counting to go by the way of Southwark in the belief
that through that section of the town I could pass with less of danger.
Understanding that it would be impossible for me to travel at a rapid
pace all night, I strove to husband my strength, walking at a fairly
good gait; but without striving to make too much speed at the outset.
That I was wise in thus planning to go from Philadelphia by a
roundabout way was speedily shown. Those revellers who had been at
the carnival were yet at the place where Colonel McLane had made his
feint, less than half a dozen having returned to quiet the alarm of the
ladies, and I made my way directly past Master Wharton’s mansion, or
counted on so doing, when I came upon two horses fastened to the fence
of the back yard nearabout where Chris, Timothy and I had made our
entrance.
By their accoutrements I knew they were animals belonging to some of
the British officers, and while one might have counted ten I stood
gazing at them enviously. Then came into my mind what seemed little
less than an inspiration, although it was no more than that old adage:
“As well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb.”
If I was caught striving to gain the American lines just at that time,
then was death certain. They could do no more than hang me if, while
trying to perform this duty, I stole a horse, although under all the
circumstances I did not give to it the name of stealing, for this was
indeed war, and to gain the better of an enemy by getting from him
the means of transportation to carry an important message is anything
rather than theft.
You may well fancy that I did not stand many seconds within a stone’s
throw of Master Wharton’s house, which was yet reasonably well thronged
with ladies, turning all this matter over in my mind.
Immediately I saw the steeds, and the idea came to me of what great
advantage it would be if I were mounted, not only in enabling me to
gain Barren Hill at an earlier hour, but also in event of pursuit to
make my escape, I quickly unfastened the bridle of that beast which
seemingly was the better fitted for a long journey.
Then I slowly led him out through the thicket into a path of which I
had long known, that ran straight away into the road I would take.
Having gone an hundred yards or more thus cautiously, I vaulted into
the saddle, and once there urged the animal into a gallop.
There was in my mind such a sense of triumph because of having thus
succeeded in making it possible to gain the American forces while it
was yet time, that I had real difficulty in preventing myself from
crying aloud with joy.
I said over and over again in my mind that now was it positive I would
outstrip all those who were bent on the same mission, even including
the Weaver of Germantown, who, because of his longer experience, should
have been able to go to and fro between Philadelphia and the American
lines more quickly than one who had only done so a single time.
In fact, I was so puffed up with pride over what was no more than an
accident, and looked upon it as if this gaining a steed for my purpose
was something due to my own wondrous abilities, that I failed to
take any heed whatsoever to what should have ever been in mind--the
fact that I was in the enemy’s country, and more closely surrounded
by lobster-backs on this night, because of the alarm which had been
raised, than at almost any other time since the Britishers occupied the
city.
However, I was brought to a realization of the situation and of my own
foolishness in striving to take credit to myself, before I had gone
half a mile from Master Wharton’s country house.
I gained the main road, and the beast which I bestrode had settled
himself down into a long, swinging gallop as if understanding that
considerable of a journey lay before him, when suddenly there came from
a cross road, or lane, the sound of horses’ feet coming rapidly toward
me. Before I had time to fully realize the situation, a voice shouted
out that I should halt or he would fire.
I was not so thick-headed as to fail of realizing on the instant that
I would be in no greater danger by continuing on regardless of the
summons, than if I stopped and gave the enemy an opportunity of finding
out who I was.
If they fired, and with true aim, then might I come to my death. But
if I was taken by them at that time, astride a horse belonging to a
British officer and headed straight away for the American lines, then
there could be no question as to how I would go out of the world, and
but little doubt as to its being a speedy exit.
Therefore it was that, bending low in the saddle, I urged the horse on
to yet greater speed, and had the beast loved the colonies as did I,
and hated the king with equal fervor, he could not have responded more
quickly or more gamely.
At almost the same instant when the horse increased his pace, I
involuntarily glanced over my shoulder just as half a dozen flashes
of light illumined the foliage nearby, and I heard the whistling of
bullets over my head as the reports of the weapons rang out.
I fail even now to understand why it chanced I was really so brave at
that time. There was not in my mind any thought of injury to myself, or
fear that I might be hurt; but all my anxiety was lest they cripple the
gallant beast that was bearing me onward so swiftly, and I literally
held my breath while striving to discover from his stride or movements
whether he had been wounded.
Fortunately, however, I could see no difference after this volley which
had been fired at comparatively short range, for the beast was running
swiftly, and with every evidence of strength, as if this night-race
pleased him hugely.
Now it was I turned my head to gain some idea of the pursuers, and
could see even amid the gloom that there were not less than six or
seven horsemen in the rear who were seemingly mounted as well as I.
There was in my mind the fancy it was possible for me to make out that
they all wore uniforms. At least, I heard the clank of swords in the
scabbards, and knew that none of our people would be so accoutred while
in the city of Philadelphia, therefore even though the volley which
had been fired at me was not sufficient indication of their character,
I had an exceedingly good idea it was General Howe’s men who were
pursuing.
That it would be a long race I made no question, for we all seemingly
rode good horses. In fact, it made little difference to me how long
they kept up the pursuit, so that I was enabled to remain in the lead
until having come within hail of General Lafayette’s outposts.
There was no speculation in my mind as to why these horsemen were
in that vicinity just then. I was not so thick-headed as to fail of
understanding that on the night before an important move was to be
made, and particularly within a few hours after the lobster-backs had
good proof the Americans were not all dead, an unusually strict watch
would be kept to prevent any from leaving the city, therefore was it
reasonable to suppose those whom I had thus unfortunately come upon
were patrolling this side of the town.
“Even though they do me harm, I shall be the means of luring them away
from their post of duty,” I said to myself with grim satisfaction. “And
if perchance one of the other lads attempts to make his way out of the
city over this same route, then, although I fail, have I been of some
service.”
I believe we had been going at racing speed no less than ten minutes
when a single shot rang out clear and distinct on the night air; but I
failed to hear the whistling of the missile, nor did I feel any token
from the horse that he had been injured.
Therefore it was I could almost have laughed aloud in joy because they
were endeavoring to shoot me, since it showed, to my mind at least,
that they had grave doubts whether it would be possible to overtake me,
and were come to understand that their only hope was in crippling the
steed.
Twice within the next five minutes did the report of firearms come
to my ears, after which I fancied that I had gained a considerable
distance on my pursuers, although as to that I could not be certain,
for their horses were yet running fresh and strong, as was mine, and
one may not safely judge of distances in the gloom.
By this time the fellows chasing me knew beyond peradventure that I
was striving to gain the American lines, and realizing this, they
understood, unless indeed they had been veritable simples, that I was
carrying important information to that rag-tag and bobtail of an army
of which they had so lately shown themselves afraid.
Therefore it was that they would spare no effort to overtake me; but
while the pace was so hot there was little chance they could shoot with
any accuracy of aim. The greatest danger, as it appeared to me just
then, was that by some unfortunate accident their bullets might go in
the direction they desired, and the chase come to an end because of the
wounding or killing of the horse I rode.
CHAPTER XI
AT BARREN HILL
I am not of a mind to dwell very long on this night chase, although
to me it was most exciting; but if I should attempt to set down all I
thought or said to myself while the Britishers were so close in the
rear and firing a shot now and then, verily do I believe I might never
come to an end of my story.
During the first half-hour, mayhap, the lobster-backs held the pace
fairly well; but at the end of that time I understood they were falling
behind, and it was no fancy of mine, although again and again I said to
myself that I must be mistaken owing to the darkness.
Finally, when it seemed to me I had ridden a full six hours, although
it could not have been one-third that time, they disappeared from view
in the distance; but whether I had so far outstripped them, or because
of their having turned back, I could not say.
However, I was not disposed to take any chances on the matter, but
continued to keep my horse well in hand, although I slackened the pace
to a slow trot that he might have opportunity to regain his breath, and
all the while listened intently for any token that those whom I had
distanced were inclined to continue yet further in the chase.
When another ten minutes had passed we were come to a small brook,
and I was sufficiently bold to make a halt there, stopping long enough
to give the faithful beast a few mouthfuls of water. Then, remounting,
I set off at a fairly good pace once more; but came to a halt very
suddenly within the next quarter of an hour, for I heard the footfalls
of horses in the distance ahead of me.
While one might have counted twenty I remained in painful suspense,
fearing the enemy had already started for Barren Hill and I was coming
upon some messengers who had been sent back to Philadelphia.
I might have known full well, however, that if I left the city before
the soldiers set off, then there were none ahead of me, for there were
few horses in the town that could have traveled faster than the one I
bestrode.
During a few seconds I hesitated, questioning whether it would not be
better to strike across through the shrubbery, rather than take the
chances of meeting whosoever was riding toward me.
Then came the realization that any who were approaching from that
direction must of necessity be friends, and I held the road until
coming within sight of two mounted men who were riding at a reasonably
rapid pace straight toward me.
As a matter of course they pulled up on finding that I held the middle
of the road, and one of them asked sharply:
“Who have we here? Who comes from the direction of Philadelphia? Be you
friend to the colonies, or the king?”
“My name is Richard Salter; my mother that widow who keeps a lodging
house in Drinker’s Alley, and if there be in this country a friend to
the colonies, then am I he, for within the past two or three days have
I taken my life in my hands, as you might say, in order to do somewhat
of good for the Cause.”
“It is plainly evident that you have a very good idea of your
importance and of your abilities,” one of the horsemen said with a
laugh which nettled me sorely, and I might have made some reply that
would not have been to my credit, but for the second stranger, who said
in a somewhat friendly tone:
“Perhaps it would be better, young master, if you told us why you are
coming from Philadelphia at such an hour.”
“I am riding to General Lafayette at Barren Hill.”
“How knew you General Lafayette was at Barren Hill?” the man asked
sharply, now reining his horse in to my side and grasping the bridle as
if he fancied I might make some effort to escape.
Whereupon I replied, speaking curtly, because I was by no means pleased
with his tone and manner:
“I had it from some British officers at the carnival which was held in
Master Wharton’s country house. Through the Weaver of Germantown were I
and my comrades able to appear there as servants that we might pick up
whatsoever of information was to be gained.”
“The Weaver of Germantown!” the first horseman exclaimed, as if right
well pleased to hear that I had had aught to do with that man. “And you
learned that General Lafayette had gone to Barren Hill?”
“Ay, not only that; but I heard the plans discussed for making an
attack upon him within the next four and twenty hours. Already, most
like, are three divisions of troops leaving Philadelphia, one of
them led by Sir Henry Clinton. Lord Howe is so positive he will take
General Lafayette prisoner ’twixt now and another sunset, that he has
invited his friends to sup with him when the Frenchman shall be in his
possession and on exhibition, as you might say.”
“And you heard all this important matter at the carnival?” the second
horseman asked as if doubting that I could have learned so much in
so public a place, and I replied, not a little nettled because they
seemingly questioned my word:
“As one of the attendants, I was waiting upon three officers who were
drinking more than was well for them, and the matter was discussed
without any attempt at privacy. They most likely believed I was only a
servant who would understand nothing whatsoever of military matters,
even when they spoke plainly.”
“And having heard this, what then?” the first rider cried, as if
impatient to get at the end of my story.
“Then came the alarm at the outposts, when it seemed certain the
Americans were attacking the city, and we lads had opportunity to go
where we knew it would be possible to find the Weaver of Germantown;
but he had it in mind that we might be needing him, therefore met us on
the way. Whereupon we took advantage of the opportunity to release two
of our comrades who were in the work-house as prisoners. Straightway
that was done, he sent each of us by a different road to get the
information which I had learned, to General Lafayette. I fancy I am
ahead of them all, having had the good fortune to come upon this horse
which was hitched in front of Master Wharton’s house, where his owner,
most like, was paying court to some of the lady guests who yet remained
there.”
Surely these men showed themselves to be inquisitive, for even now when
I had told all my story, they questioned me yet further, as if every
little detail was of the greatest importance, and I chafing all the
while at the delay, because I believed every moment would be precious
to General Lafayette.
Therefore it was, when they asked concerning matters which it appeared
to me had no connection with the Cause, or what might be done at once
nearabout Barren Hill, I said sharply:
“If you have learned all you desire, gentlemen, allow me to ride on,
for it seems that duty requires I should have speech with General
Lafayette immediately.”
“And so you should, my lad,” one of the men replied, speaking heartily
and in a most friendly tone. “We had no right to detain you so long,
although I fancy that because of your having made so quick a journey,
we shall arrive in ample time.”
“_We_ shall arrive,” I repeated, whereupon he said, and I fancied that
he smiled:
“Ay, lad, for it is our intent to go with you, else might there be a
long delay in your gaining speech with the General. We had been sent on
matters of little importance to New Jersey; but that which you tell us
seems to make it appear as if our services are needed here more than
there.”
Having said this the speaker wheeled his horse around sharply, and
started off at a smart pace, I following him and understanding from the
sounds which came that the second horseman was close in my rear.
Now it was that these strangers whom I had overtaken no longer gave any
evidence of inquisitiveness. It seemed as if they had finally begun
to understand how necessary it was we reach General Lafayette with
the least delay, and never a word was spoken as we three, riding at
racing speed now that the horses had had time to breathe, continued
on until the faint ray of light in the eastern sky told that the day
when General Howe counted to vanquish and capture General Lafayette was
dawning.
Then, suddenly, the stranger who was riding in advance pulled up
quickly, and I saw that one of our soldiers barred the way, while near
at hand I fancied it was possible to see just within the thicket half a
dozen more, therefore did I know we were come to the American outposts.
The horseman spoke a few words to the sentinel, and again pressed on, I
following his example as a matter of course, and holding my eyes wide
open for any token of our people.
It was not necessary that I watch very closely. Even though the numbers
of the “rebels” were small, they were exceeding active, and, after
having passed this outpost, we came upon squads or companies of men
moving hither and thither as if some important movement was about to be
executed.
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask of one or the other of these men
whom I had met, what might be afoot; but they gave me no opportunity.
Each appeared eager to arrive at headquarters, and when we were come
there verily was I amazed, for this French officer who had come
overseas to aid us in fighting the king, was quartered in what appeared
to be a little better than a hut.
It was, as I saw when the day was fully come, a small, rude
farm-house, and as we came upon it just in the grey of dawn, sentries
were pacing sleepily to and fro, while from the general air of those
whom we saw, it was positive the Frenchman was not borrowing any very
grave trouble concerning what the Britishers might do.
Considerable talk on the part of the two men who had come with me,
was necessary before those sleepy sentinels, who had probably been
awakened by our coming, would permit us to enter the building, and when
we did pass inside, entering a room which had been the kitchen of the
farm-house wherein stood a table on which were remnants of a meal and
with military accoutrements strewn everywhere, I looked in vain for the
commander.
We stood there in silence mayhap two minutes, I gazing in wonderment
at each of the strangers, who I now saw wore the American uniform, and
they remaining motionless as if by no means surprised because we were
thus left to ourselves.
Then the door of the inner room opened, and there came into this
kitchen, little more than half-clad and looking very sleepy, a young
man, who to me was hardly more than a boy. He was well dressed,
unusually so, as it seemed to me, and I was familiar with the
richness of the lobster-backs’ costumes, while there was on his face
an expression of annoyance because of having been aroused from his
slumbers.
I liked the looks of this young fellow. It was pleasant to see his
face, even though there were traces of vexation upon it. But my heart
sank within me when I realized that this was the French officer on whom
we had laid so many plans, believing him to be a great soldier, and
verily he was no more, as you might say, than Jeremy Hapgood or myself.
So young was he in appearance, that I could not believe he had had
overly much experience in the art of warfare, and, like the simple I
was, said it to myself that if this was the General Lafayette from whom
our people expected so much, then might they expect in vain, or as well
look to Jeremy or me for something brilliant in the way of military
manœuvres.
I had ample time in which to chew the matter over and thus foolishly
discuss with myself the appearance of this young soldier, for
straightway he entered the room the two horsemen who had come with me
went close to him, and the three talked in whispers while one might
have counted sixty, I standing by like a goose who rests her body first
on one leg and then on the other without knowing exactly what to do.
Then it was that the young officer said to me, speaking in English, but
pronouncing his words in such fashion that one could readily understand
he was not familiar with the language:
“It is true, young man, what you heard regarding General Howe’s
intentions while you were playing the part of a servant?”
He said this as if asking a question, therefore I fancied for the
instant that he counted on trying to make me prove the truth of
the information I had brought; but managed to pull myself together
sufficiently to answer him in proper fashion, and then it was that he
began questioning.
If the two horsemen had shown themselves inquisitive a short time
before, verily was he outstripping them now, for there was no
detail concerning the carnival, the movements of our own people in
Philadelphia, or the bearing of the lobster-backs, that he did not
question me upon; and it seemed as if I stood there a full hour,
answering what was of no consequence, so I argued.
Having gratified his curiosity, or learned that which was necessary for
him to know, he took my hand in his in the most friendly fashion, and
while I cannot well repeat the words he spoke, because of his queer
manner of speaking, thereby causing them to sound differently from the
spirit in which I understood he intended, he caused my cheeks to flush
red because of the words of praise, and wound up by promising that if
it should be at some future time in his power to reward me for the
service I had done, then would he take advantage of it.
As a matter of course I understood that I was dismissed when he ceased
speaking, and walked out of the building, hardly knowing what to do
until the man who was standing sentinel directly in front of the door,
and who must have understood I had come with news of importance,
suggested that I go near where the officers’ horses were being fed,
because there could be had provender for the beast that had carried me
so gallantly.
This I did, as can well be supposed, and I was rubbing the horse’s
legs with whisps of grass to refresh him, for I counted on holding
possession of the animal so long as I might, when I was interrupted by
no less a person than the Weaver of Germantown himself, who said with a
smile as he came up to me:
“Ah, now I understand how it chanced that you were so much in advance
of me. I also rode after having walked as far as Germantown, but had
not the good fortune to get so good a beast as that. Where did you
find him?”
“At Master Wharton’s country house, where his owner had left him while
he went in to tell the ladies, most like, that they need have no fear
the miserable rebels would do them harm. It appears to me, Master
Weaver, that you came reasonably fast, for I rode at racing speed and
have not been here an hour.”
“You came by a longer course, Richard Salter, and it is well you did,
for those two gentlemen whom you turned back on the road, were friends
of mine whom I most desire to have with this portion of the army if so
be the Britishers make an attack.”
“Then you have seen them already?” I asked in surprise, and the
Weaver of Germantown told me he had just left General Lafayette’s
headquarters, where he had learned from the Frenchman himself what
service I had done.
“And the Britishers?” I asked. “Do you know if they came out of
Philadelphia according to the information I gained at the carnival?”
“Ay, lad, and are well-nigh ready to begin operations. One of our
people came in a few moments ago with the word that a considerable
force was at Chestnut Hill, and I myself know that Grant’s troops are
halted at the forks of the road leading to Barren Hill and Matson’s
Ford. There is every reason to believe that General Gray, with at least
two thousand men, is at the ford within three miles of here this very
moment. We are much the same as surrounded.”
“And General Lafayette must, of course, surrender, unless he can turn
tail and get back to Valley Forge,” I said, thus showing how little I
knew of the mettle of our people who had passed the winter amid so much
of suffering.
“I’ll venture to say he won’t surrender, lad,” the Weaver of Germantown
replied grimly, “although I must confess that he is in what you might
well call a tight box. His only way of escape is by Matson’s Ford, and
the approach to that is held by at least five thousand Britishers under
General Grant.”
“And what will happen?” I asked as a feeling of timorousness came over
me, causing, I am afraid, my face to grow pale.
“It is for General Lafayette to answer that question, and you will get
reply before nightfall if you watch the movements of the men,” the
Weaver of Germantown said in what I fancied was a tone of sadness,
whereupon I was such a simple as to exclaim:
“If it remains with that lad to get these men out of the trap into
which they seem to have walked with open eyes, then am I afraid their
chances are few, for he knows no more of warfare than does Jeremy
Hapgood.”
“Unless I am much mistaken, Richard Salter, within the next four
and twenty hours you will have every reason to change your opinion
regarding the French officer. The Britishers are certain to find in him
a real soldier, according to all I have heard, and it will surprise me
much if this day’s doings are not greatly to his credit.”
Just at that moment one of the soldiers came up to the Weaver of
Germantown, and whispered a few words in his ear, whereupon both went
hurriedly away, leaving me to wonder who this man might be who thus
kept secret his name, as you might say; and I speculated not a little
as to what position he occupied with our American army.
It appeared to me as if he was anxious to conceal his identity under
this fanciful name of the Weaver of Germantown, and I believed I
already had good proof that he was of more importance, or of higher
rank, if you please, than that of a spy, for since we arrived at the
encampment I noted that all those who came in contact with him showed
no little respect in their bearing.
However, I was not left long alone to speculate upon any matter, for
within five minutes after the man who called himself a spy had left,
I was not only delighted, but decidedly surprised, to see Jeremy
Hapgood engaged in what seemed much like an altercation with one of the
sentries.
Straightway I understood what had happened. The lad had succeeded in
gaining Barren Hill in an exceedingly short time, if so be he came on
foot, and now was he doing that which I would have been forced to do
but for having met the two officers on the road--trying to show that he
had fair right to enter the encampment.
I hurried forward to where the sentry stood barring the way, and
fortunately for Jeremy Hapgood, the soldier had not only seen me when I
entered in company with the two horsemen, but had afterwards seemingly
taken especial note of the fact that I appeared to be on intimate terms
with the Weaver of Germantown.
Therefore it was that the man listened favourably to me when I
explained that Jeremy was one of the party who had been sent out from
Philadelphia to give warning of what the lobster-backs were about, and
although it might not have been according to military usage or law, the
sentinel allowed my comrade to pass him without referring the matter to
a superior officer.
It goes without saying that Jeremy was decidedly surprised at finding
me at Barren Hill, having the appearance of one who had been long
there, and before he would answer a single question which I was
striving to put, the lad insisted on knowing how it was I had succeeded
in making my way so rapidly.
In order to make certain of hearing his story within a reasonable
length of time, it became necessary for me to go into details regarding
all that I had done since we parted, and Jeremy was as delighted as a
baby with a new toy, when I explained how it had been possible for me
to get possession of a horse.
Not until I had come to the very end of my story, omitting none of the
details, did the lad tell me what had happened to him since we last saw
each other. Although he had not met with much of adventure, verily had
he exerted himself twenty times more than I, for throughout the entire
night he had traveled, walking at times in order to regain his breath,
but running the greater portion of the distance; hiding in the thicket
whenever he heard anyone advancing toward him, and taking such chances
as I had not been called upon to take because of being mounted.
Verily Jeremy Hapgood had done more for the Cause than I on this night,
and I was ashamed when he had come to the end of his simple story,
because I made so many words of that which, as compared with what he
had done, amounted really to nothing.
While we stood there within a stone’s throw of General Lafayette’s
quarters, talking about what we had done since leaving Philadelphia,
there was no little stir in the encampment. It was not necessary we
lads should understand overly much of military matters in order to know
that some important movement was near at hand, and, considering the
news we had brought, it was not difficult for us to understand that
General Lafayette was making preparation to meet the enemy; but whether
to give them battle, or retreat, we could not determine.
Shortly after the men had had rations served out to them, we lads not
sharing in the distribution of the food owing to the fact that we were
not members of the army, the Weaver of Germantown came to where Jeremy
and I were sitting on the ground, and said in a low tone:
“This portion of the army will begin to move very speedily. It is
for you lads to join it, unless peradventure you are willing to take
the chances of being captured by the lobster-backs. You have General
Lafayette’s permission to ride with his staff, and I advise you to make
ready for the start without delay. The movement about to be executed
will be rapid, and he who lingers ever so little stands a good chance
of being left behind.”
All this was somewhat of a puzzle to me, and I would have called
after the man, urging that he explain his meaning; but Jeremy Hapgood
clutched me by the coat-sleeve as he said in a low tone:
“Verily, Richard, this is no time for overly many words, and I am of
the belief that the Weaver of Germantown would not explain to you the
meaning of all he has said, no matter how you might implore him. If we
are to follow the general’s staff, let us make ready to do so, and not
bother our heads further.”
“But it is not for us to leave this place until our comrades have
arrived,” I exclaimed petulantly.
It came to my mind that after what I had just done for the Cause, I was
entitled to more consideration than would have been shown an ordinary
lad, and, such a simple was I, that it seemed as if some special
provision should have been made for the safety of my comrades and
myself.
“Here come Tim Bowers and Sam Elder,” Jeremy suddenly cried, and,
looking up, I saw the two lads both astride a woebegone looking horse,
riding toward the encampment at full speed.
Understanding that they might have trouble passing the sentinel, I went
forward, beckoning Jeremy to follow me.
Singularly enough, no one paid any attention to them, which fact was
owing, I suppose, to the general excitement on every hand, and the
forming of the men into columns for marching.
“How does it chance that you and Timothy are together?” Jeremy cried,
while our lads were yet some distance away striving to force the old
horse into a faster gait.
“We met just in advance of General Grant’s column,” Sam replied
laughingly as if it were a great joke. “He was coming on one road and
I the other, when the troops appeared so close at our heels that we
made a sudden break into the thicket, running into each other’s arms,
causing both of us, for the moment, no little alarm.”
“Did you see or hear anything of young Chris?” I asked as the lads
dismounted and turned their weary steed free.
“It seems reasonably certain he has been taken prisoner,” Sam Elder
replied gravely. “You may fancy how near we were to the advance of the
lobster-backs, when while skulking in the thicket we could hear the
men talking with each other, and there was dropped now and then a word
concerning a boy who had been taken while evidently trying to carry
information to the Americans. Therefore Tim and I have decided young
Chris has been captured.”
“We also heard somewhat concerning a Tory lad who had had a hand in
the matter,” Timothy Bowers added, “and while Sam won’t agree with me,
I am of the opinion that Skinny Baker played a part in young Chris’s
downfall.”
“But how could Skinny Baker have known anything concerning young
Chris’s movements?” I cried, not inclined to put any faith in what
Tim had suggested. “That Tory cur, in order to have had any idea
of Chris’s whereabouts, must have known that all of us were at the
carnival--meaning those who were not then in the work-house,” I added
laughingly. “If the miserable coward had had any such information, you
may set it down as a fact that we would never have been allowed to
leave Master Wharton’s house.”
“But suppose Skinny knew we were there as servants, and suppose he
counted on bringing about our arrest? The pretended attack by the
Americans knocked the miserable cur’s plans awry, and how about it
then?” Tim asked as if he had settled the matter definitely.
I realized at once that all this guessing might be exceedingly near
the truth, understanding that Skinny Baker would make as great display
of his power, if so be there was chance for him to have us taken as
spies, as the lobster-backs would permit.
It was well within reason that he might have counted to wait until a
late hour, or, possibly, he had not gotten at the ear of any British
officers in time to make the arrest before the alarm was given that our
people were attacking the outposts.
From that moment he might have been in pursuit of us, and we, by going
to the work-house, had thrown him off the track.
It was not impossible, or improbable, that, having lost track of us
during the excitement of the supposed attack, he roamed around until
coming accidentally upon young Chris, and had been able to find enough
of lobster-backs near at hand who would aid him in making the capture.
At all events, we knew full well that a coward like Skinny Baker would
not have tackled young Chris alone, and were firmly convinced that our
comrade had been made prisoner.
But there the matter must rest for the time being, since we were
powerless even to learn where he might be confined, and although we had
known all the particulars, how were we to do anything whatsoever at a
time when the lobster-backs had, as it seemed, so nearly surrounded
Barren Hill that all the army under General Lafayette’s command must be
taken prisoners?
We had little opportunity for further conversation. It was just at
the moment when we had decided young Chris was in the power of Skinny
Baker’s friends, that the Weaver of Germantown came up hurriedly, and
said in a tone very much like that of command:
“Get you ready, lads. If so be you can follow the general’s staff on
foot, then am I believing all will go well so far as you are concerned.”
He had no sooner said this than he seemingly noted for the first time
that Tim and Sam had come in; but beyond greeting them in friendly
fashion, he paid no further attention to the lads.
“There is no time for you boys to loiter here; see to it that you
follow the general’s staff,” he repeated once more, and then walked
away, leaving me undecided as to what I should do.
With the horse which I had taken from Master Wharton’s grounds I could
readily keep pace with the officers who made up the general’s staff;
but surely four of us might not ride upon one beast, and I hesitated,
for the moment almost inclined to say I would take advantage of the
opportunity, leaving them to follow as best they might.
Then it came upon me that such a course would be cowardly, if nothing
more, and with a sigh I decided to leave the horse where he was
tethered, allowing whosoever might first chance upon the beast to take
him as a prize.
“We will all walk,” I said, as if there had never been the slightest
doubt in my mind regarding the matter. “It is true I have a horse, and
you lads also an imitation of one; but verily you had better be on foot
than trust yourselves to the back of that bunch of bones; therefore we
will take even chances.”
Then I led the way toward where I saw the group of officers, mounted.
CHAPTER XII
THE RETREAT
As to what happened during the time General Lafayette was striving to
withdraw from the dangerous position he found himself in after the
advance of the Britishers, I cannot of my own knowledge speak clearly.
To me, and my comrades are of the same mind, the day was apparently
spent in moving here and there blindly, so to speak. It appeared now
and then, from what little I could see in advance of us, that we were
on the very verge of being captured, and again did it appear as if we
had gotten off scot free, while mayhap half an hour later the danger
was seemingly greater than before.
If I attempted to set down the details of the movement which gave good
proof of the young French officer’s ability to handle men, I should
surely make a bungling job of it.
Therefore it is I count to copy out what I afterwards read concerning
that escape of ours. There is no good reason why I should do other than
use the words of the man who knew full well what he was writing about;
for we lads had no part or parcel in that retreat, save as we followed
closely at the heels of the officers’ horses, running now and then
in order to keep pace, and again allowed to remain idle five or ten
minutes at a time, all the while so confused as to the general purpose
of the commander as not to be able clearly to understand anything save
when we crossed the ford, where, during a few moments, did it seem to
me as if we were safe.
We conversed very little during that marching and countermarching, for
we were puzzled, and again it was not seemly we should speculate as to
what was being done, because at times we were so near General Lafayette
himself that he could have heard our words.
Here is what I have seen set down in printed words regarding the
matter, and after reading it I can the better understand why we went
here or there.
“Lafayette proved himself adequate to the occasion. In a moment, as
it were, his dangers were revealed, and the one possible means of
extrication resorted to. Dispositions were made as though to receive
Gray; his artillery, by a well directed fire, encouraged the idea that
he proposed to engage.
“His real aim was, of course, flight, and by the ford; but to attain
it he must pass within a short distance of Grant, who was nearer to it
than himself.
“He feigned movements as though for an attack, and by an occasional
display of the heads of columns, he for a time persuaded the Englishman
that an action was imminent.
“Meantime the troops, as fast as they could come up, were hurrying
across the ford, until at last the artillery and a body of Oneida
savages only remained on this side the stream. These were also now
brought over, and on the high ground beyond our men were secure.
“Grant at last came up and ordered the advance to move on; but it was
too late. They saw but a party of our troops dotting the surface of the
water like the floats of a seine. The prey had escaped.
“Grant was hopelessly in the rear, and when Gray’s column closed in
there was nothing between the British lines. The only skirmishing even
that seems to have occurred was between a body of light horse and the
Oneidas. Neither had ever encountered a like foe, and when the cavalry
unexpectedly rode among the savages, the whooping and scampering of
the one, and the flashing swords and prancing steeds of the other
party, excited such a common terror that both fled with the utmost
precipitation.
“Irritated and empty-handed Howe marched back to town, with no one but
his own officers to blame for his ill success.”
Now it is that he who reads what I have just set down will understand
quite as much as did I, who took part in the manœuvre, how General
Lafayette succeeded in throwing dust in the eyes of the Britishers, and
brought off his men without loss of blood when it had seemed as if he
was in a trap from which it would be impossible to escape.
I would it might be possible for me to set down all that we saw and
heard in the camp at Valley Forge after the French officer had led
his men back in what might well be called a masterly retreat; but I
have not the space nor the time if I am to tell the story of what we
so-called Minute Boys of Philadelphia did.
It is not necessary for me to make any attempt at explaining how
saddened our soldiers at Valley Forge were when General Lafayette and
his men returned in what you may well call full flight. They had,
hoping even against hope, brought themselves to believe that something
of moment was to be done by this advance on Barren Hill, and when it
was shown to have come to naught, one can readily understand how great
was the disappointment.
We heard on every hand words which told how much of confidence the men
had placed on the movement; but none were grumbling. The advance had
been of no avail; yet they were not discouraged.
Already were our people looking forward to the time when a second
attempt would be made to worry the Britishers, and predicting that then
the result would be far different.
It was near to nightfall when we were come to Valley Forge, and the
Weaver of Germantown took special care to point out to us a small hut
nearby headquarters, which we were to be allowed to occupy, and went to
the extent of getting for us an order on the commissary for such food
as could be procured by these half-starved men.
Now although I loved the Cause as well as any other man or lad in the
colonies, my first thought when we were safe from the lobster-backs was
concerning young Chris, rather than that which might have been called a
disaster to our arms.
I feared he had allowed his tongue to bring him into trouble, else did
it seem to me he should have been able to leave Philadelphia secretly,
even as we had done; but whether the fault was his or no, we had no
right to consider it at that moment.
Unquestionably he had been made a prisoner, for surely the
lobster-backs could not have been talking about any other lad, because
I knew of none who would have put themselves in the way of thus coming
to grief.
He was our comrade, a member of our company of Minute Boys, and it was
my duty, I having allowed them to call me the captain, to set all my
wits at work to release him.
We had succeeded, even when all the chances appeared against us, in
effecting the escape of Jeremy and Sam, and I secretly grieved over the
fact that I had cut no better figure in that venture.
It was the Weaver of Germantown who had done all the work, and we lads
were of little or no assistance to him, therefore as yet, so it seemed
to me, the Minute Boys of Philadelphia had not shown themselves to any
great advantage.
It is true we had succeeded in gaining valuable information, and
had brought the same within the lines; but I burned to do more--to
accomplish something which should make my name known to those who were
staking their lives in battle, or against starvation.
It was necessary, so it seemed to me, that our first work, regardless
of what might be needed in aid of the Cause, was to learn what had
become of young Chris.
After all that had just happened I felt confident the lobster-backs
would keep a sharper watch over us rebels than ever before, and if
peradventure Chris had been thrown into prison, then did I despair,
even though we had the aid of the Weaver of Germantown, in doing
anything whatsoever toward effecting his release.
However, we would learn all that might be learned, even though we
risked our lives again and again in the effort, and this much I said
to my comrades when we were eating our scanty meal alone in the hut,
whereupon Jeremy Hapgood, seemingly of the same opinion as I had
advanced, asked quietly, as if ready to set off at a moment’s notice:
“How will you go about gaining this information which is necessary
before we can raise a hand in young Chris’s behalf? I must confess,
Richard Salter, that I question whether it will be possible for anyone
to aid the poor lad just now, unless, peradventure, the British march
out of Philadelphia, as it is rumoured General Clinton intends to do,
although I misdoubt it greatly.”
“The only way, so far as I can see, is to go back from whence we came.”
“Into Philadelphia?” Timothy Bowers cried as if in alarm, and I
replied, striving to speak in a careless tone as if familiar with such
desperate ventures:
“Ay, lad, that is what must be done. At the Jolly Tar inn we may find a
hiding place--”
“Yes, a hiding place!” Sam cried bitterly, “and where we must keep
under cover if we would save our necks. Of what avail is it to be
in that rear room of the Jolly Tar inn, eating our hearts out with
impatience, as far as aiding young Chris is concerned?”
“That is what I cannot say, lad; but certain it is while we remain here
there is no possibility of our doing anything whatsoever, and if we are
in the city there is a chance, however slight, that we may see some way
out of what is now a blind hobble.”
Although we Minute Boys of Philadelphia were not great in numbers,
verily were we ready to do whatsoever came to our hand, and the proof
of this is that when I had thus spoken, never a question was raised
against the proposition. All appeared not only ready but willing to
join me in going back to that nest of lobster-backs, where by this time
we knew were many on the lookout to take us prisoners.
It was when the matter had thus been settled among us that the Weaver
of Germantown came into the hut, and I fancy he understood by the
expression on our faces that we had been discussing some matter which
was far from pleasing, for he asked in a cheery tone, throwing himself
upon the floor beside me, for the hut boasted of neither chairs nor bed:
“What have you lads in mind now?”
“To go back to Philadelphia as soon as may be,” I replied shortly,
thinking he would attempt to persuade us that the venture was far too
dangerous.
“That is exactly what you should do, lads, and what I am counting on
doing myself within the next eight and forty hours, for now if ever is
the time when we must keep in touch with what the Britishers are doing.
If you set off at once, then may I delay so long as will be necessary
to have a look about Chestnut Hill.”
Then he would have laid out our work for us, telling what we should do
here or there, when I interrupted him by saying:
“It appears to me that our first duty is toward young Chris. It is
certain, from what Sam and Tim heard, that Skinny Baker has succeeded
in bringing the lobster-backs down upon him, and we must make the
attempt, even though we fail, to lend him a hand.”
“Ay, lad, all that is as it should be; but remember this: Your first
duty is to the Cause, and it is while you are working in behalf of the
colonies that you will best be able to discover some way in which you
can help Master Ludwig, if so be he is yet on this earth.”
“Do you fancy they might have killed him?” I cried in alarm, for until
the man spoke there had been no such fear in my mind.
“It is possible,” the Weaver of Germantown said slowly and in a subdued
tone. “The Britishers are not feeling overly happy just now, as we can
well understand. The pretended attack on their outposts showed them
that not only the rank and file, but the officers as well, are afraid
of what this rag-tag and bobtail of an army may do. Then the failure to
overwhelm the troops under General Lafayette, after Howe had boastingly
declared that he would bring back the general to Philadelphia a
prisoner, and even gone so far as to invite certain cronies of his to
a supper where he might exhibit the captive. All this, I say, is well
calculated to make the lobster-backs ill tempered, and if so be they
succeed in laying hands upon a spy, and your Skinny Baker can prove to
the satisfaction of any prejudiced person that young Chris has been
working in the interests of the colonies, then there is the chance that
he may have suffered the death.”
We lads were literally stupefied at the idea of such a possibility.
We had believed young Chris might be held close prisoner; but more
than that never entered our minds, and now, after hearing the Weaver
of Germantown speak in such a solemn tone, while knowing that the
arguments he advanced were sound ones, it seemed to us almost as if we
had learned that Chris was indeed gone from among us forever.
The man could readily see how he had disheartened us by his words,
and evidently believed it necessary to revive our courage if he would
have us set off speedily for the city, therefore he said in what he
doubtless counted should be a cheery tone:
“Do not look so downhearted, lads. I was but putting before you the
worst side of the case. It is by no means certain your Skinny Baker
could succeed in proving even to the Britishers that a boy like young
Chris was a spy. Then again, with all the excitement which has been in
the city during the past four and twenty hours, it might be a difficult
matter even for Skinny’s father to have speech with any of the
Britishers in command. Again, you are by no means certain young Chris
is really in the hands of the British. Cease to think of him other
than as one whom you count on finding without delay, and by such means
you will not only succeed better in your work for the Cause, but be in
shape to take a greater advantage of any opportunity which may come for
helping him. When do you set off?”
I had not gone so far in my plans as to name the hour when we would
leave Valley Forge. In fact, had counted on staying where we were at
least another four and twenty hours, for the march from Barren Hill
had been exceeding tiresome, and we were so weary that a rest seemed
absolutely necessary. But when the man asked the question I replied
quickly, as if it was a matter already settled:
“We go to-night.”
The other lads looked up in surprise, as if believing I had lost
my wits to set off when all of us were leg weary; but no one made
any comment save the Weaver of Germantown, who said in a tone of
satisfaction:
“That is well. The sooner you can shelter yourselves in the Jolly Tar
inn the better, and even though the lobster-backs are likely to be on
the alert for us rebels, I believe you may gain entrance to the city
more readily now than later. Just at this time it stands to reason that
they are considerably upset regarding the failure of their plans, and
surely whoever might be watching out for you--say for instance, Skinny
Baker--will hardly be foolish enough to think you would come directly
back after having made good your escape.”
I had committed myself to setting off at once, and lest the man should
think I had been talking at random, I immediately rose to my feet,
saying as I did so:
“I fancy we shall be the better able to make the journey if we set off
before our limbs have stiffened, as they surely will if we remain here
idle two or three hours more.”
Well, to make a short story out of what might well be a long one, we
left Valley Forge within ten minutes, the Weaver of Germantown walking
with us past all the sentries to be certain we had no difficulty in
leaving the encampment, and then, when he would have turned back, I
counted to hear from him some kindly word of encouragement because we
were venturing our necks once more.
Instead of anything of the kind, he simply shook us by the hand as if
we were going on an ordinary journey, and then turned to retrace his
steps.
Eager though we were to prove ourselves worthy to be called Minute
Boys, and burning to be of service to the Cause, there was never one of
us who could put any enthusiasm in this march which might end in our
death.
We, as I have already said, were weary almost to the verge of
exhaustion, and the miles which lay before us seemed so nearly
interminable that I felt almost as if we could not cover half of them
without failing utterly.
No one was in the mood for conversation, and we plodded on in the
darkness, keenly on the alert, however, for any sounds which should
betoken the coming of an enemy; but hardly conscious whether we had
traversed one yard or one mile.
I believe it was the possibility young Chris might have been executed
as a spy that had taken the courage from us to such an extent; but this
I do know to a certainty, that when the day was dawning we were not yet
beyond Germantown, and Jeremy Hapgood said to me in the tone of one who
will not brook opposition:
“I can go no farther, Richard Salter. Here nearby is a house where I
believe we may remain in hiding during the day, and although I am so
hungry that I could eat anything in the shape of food, yet must I lie
by until another night has come, for my weariness is greater than the
desire for something to eat.”
“Where may we remain hidden?” Sam asked, and I understood that he was
decidedly of Jeremy’s opinion.
Then it was the lad told us of a house which had been partially
destroyed by the Britishers when they marched into our city of
Philadelphia, claiming that he had visited it more than once while the
lobster-backs much the same as held us prisoners within our homes.
Without further parley we followed him, coming to what had originally
been a small cottage, but was now hardly more than a ruin, yet here
did it really seem as if we might find safe concealment, for it was
possible, as Jeremy showed us, to gain admission to the cellar, and
surely it must have been a suspicious lobster-back who would have
looked beneath the charred timbers for a company of lads.
Although while talking with the Weaver of Germantown I had been strong
in my determination to do whatsoever I might toward aiding young Chris,
yet was I rejoiced at thus coming to a place where I could stretch my
weary body out at full length, even though it was only on the bare
ground, and without making any search of the place, for it was yet too
dark to see clearly our surroundings, I threw myself upon the floor of
the cellar and was lost in slumber almost as soon as I closed my eyes.
When next I was conscious of existence, the faint light which came in
from beneath the charred timbers that overhung the cellar walls told me
it was yet day, and I raised myself on my elbow to look around.
My comrades, lying even as they had thrown themselves upon the floor
in exhaustion, were yet sleeping soundly, and dimly I wondered why I
should have been the first to awaken, when the sound of footsteps just
outside the building caused my heart to come into my throat, as the old
saying goes.
I knew there were none of our people left roundabout Germantown,
therefore whosoever was approaching our hiding place must be a
Britisher or a Tory. In my fear, for verily I was timorous, I fancied
we might have been tracked to this place, and now were come the
lobster-backs to take us in custody.
Pressing my hand over Jeremy’s mouth lest he should make some outcry
on being suddenly awakened, I shook him into consciousness, and at
the same time motioned with my hand toward the outside, that he might
understand there were possible enemies near at hand.
Then we two sat bolt upright, listening intently, as you can well
fancy; learning before many seconds had passed that there were no less
than four or five persons who had come somewhere near what had been
a window in the cellar wall of the ruins, and were now taking a rest
while discussing certain matters which concerned themselves.
So near were they to where we sat listening with all our heart in our
ears, that we could hear distinctly every spoken word, and before
we had thus played the eavesdroppers a dozen seconds did we come to
understand that fate, or fortune, whatsoever you may term it, had
brought us into the one place of all our colony of Pennsylvania where
we had most desired to be.
The first words we heard were spoken in a voice thoroughly familiar to
us, and we looked at each other in amazement, for it was Skinny Baker
himself who was saying in a whining tone that caused all the anger
within me to spring up, reddening my face until I knew it must have
been nearly the color of blood:
“I tell you I heard all those fellows said concerning what they would
do against the king,” the Tory cur was saying as if in answer to some
reproof or question. “This lad here has been one of the foremost in
starting what they call the Minute Boys of Philadelphia, and if you
know aught regarding the people of our town, then do you know that
Ludwig, the baker, is as rank a rebel as may be found within the
colonies.”
Jeremy and I gazed at each other in astonishment. That which we had
heard told us our comrade was within mayhap a dozen paces of where we
sat, and I literally struggled to understand how it could have happened
he was not already lodged in prison.
Before any of Skinny’s companions made reply there came to my mind like
a flash of light an explanation of this matter, and it was much like
this: I believed young Chris had been taken prisoner within a short
distance, mayhap, of Barren Hill, and put under guard to be carried to
Philadelphia. Skinny, who, there could be no question, was responsible
for Chris’s arrest, had remained with these lobster-backs in order to
gloat over the lad whom he had brought to grief; but why they had not
come down in advance of the army I failed of understanding.
However, they must have loitered behind for some reason or another, or
might have come as far as this place with the main body of troops and
stopped here to rest, for those who wore the king’s uniform were not
overly eager to do more of labour than was absolutely necessary.
I have said all this came into my mind like a flash, and it was within
one single instant that I settled the matter, at least, to my partial
satisfaction, and then understood why Skinny was striving to convince
these men of young Chris’s guilt, for one of them said angrily, with
that accent which bespoke the cockney Britisher:
“If it so happen good King George can be hurt by such an infant as
this, then is it time we who have come to whip these rebels into
subjection, turn about and go home. I enlisted to fight men, not
children.”
“You watch this fellow a little while, and you’ll come to understand
that there is no child about him,” Skinny replied vindictively.
“Haven’t I already told you what he has done?”
“Yes, you have, lad, and yet I am not bound to believe it all. If a
chap like you allows himself to be towed around a city filled with
king’s troops without making any attempt at escaping, then is he likely
to draw the long bow when he explains how it happened.”
It was only natural Skinny should be excited and angry at thus being
much the same as told that he was a coward, and straightway he began
explaining how we lads fell upon him in overwhelming numbers, and how
impossible it was for him to make any outcry while we were marching him
through the streets.
This explanation occupied so much time that I set about awakening Tim
and Sam, even as I had aroused Jeremy, and the expression on their
faces when they heard Skinny Baker talking would have been to me
comical in the extreme, but for our situation.
A fellow cannot well laugh when he knows that within the next minute,
perhaps, he may find himself a prisoner, and therefore it was their
looks of surprise and dismay were passed by unheeded.
When Skinny had told his story with great detail, and a vast amount
of untruth, one of the men asked as if it was a matter of little
importance to him:
“And now having pointed out this boy as a rebel, what do you count
will become of him? Is it in your mind he shall be dealt with as a spy?”
“Ay, that it is!” Skinny cried in a fury, and I could well fancy the
expression of hatred on the miserable cur’s face as he spoke. “How else
can he be dealt with after I have told the story of what he did?”
“That is as those who hear you may be inclined to say whether you are
telling the truth in the interest of his majesty, or striving to pay
off a private grudge.”
I could have hugged the man who made that suggestion, and really
believe I laughed inwardly when Skinny, now so angry that he could not
speak plainly, snarled:
“They will believe me when I show what he has done. It is well known
he was among those who held me prisoner, and I can bring lads who will
swear he did his best to make them agree to become Minute Boys. If such
work as that doesn’t bring him to the gallows, then can every rebel in
Philadelphia do whatsoever he may without fear of coming to grief.”
It was then another voice broke in, saying with a yawn, as if wearied
by the controversy:
“Why shall we spend our breath talking of what may or may not be?
It simply remains with us to carry this boy into the city and lodge
him in the stone prison, after which we may go about our business,
and blooming glad shall I be, for this escorting children around the
country for the purpose of having them hanged later, is not to my
liking.”
Then it was that Skinny would have repeated again the list of young
Chris’s crimes; but that one of the men interrupted him by saying:
“We’ve heard that yarn once, and there is no need of your telling it
again. I am wondering why the prisoner holds his tongue.”
That same thought was in my mind, for young Chris was never inclined
to remain silent when there was any provocation to wag his tongue,
and now, being almost the same as invited to defend himself, he said,
speaking like a man:
“Much of what that Tory cur has said is true; a great deal is made
up out of whole cloth. We did take him prisoner, because while being
engaged in work of our own, he played the spy upon us, and we were
not minded he should run to tell the news broadcast over the town,
for it would look much as though we had been engaged in some unlawful
transaction. When we laid hands on him, the wretch was so frightened
that he did not dare defend himself even with his tongue. A lamb going
to the slaughter-house couldn’t have moved more peaceably or willingly.
The only regret I have is that he who has brought me into this trouble
was not a decent fellow, and surely you who have seen and heard him can
have a fairly good idea of what a cur he is.”
Jeremy clutched my hand tightly as if to show how proud he was because
young Chris had spoken in such a manly fashion, and we lads looked
at each other in triumph, for of a verity we had never given the lad
credit for having so stiff a backbone.
From the tone of the conversation among the lobster-backs which
followed, I could fancy our comrade had succeeded in gaining sympathy,
if no more, by his speech, and that Skinny Baker had fallen even lower
in their estimation than before; but nothing of consequence to us was
said.
We now knew that young Chris was to be taken to the stone prison, and
if so be he was confined there rather than in the work-house, then we
might say with good reason that there was no chance whatsoever for us
to aid him. No matter how favourable the circumstances were, there
wasn’t a possibility we, even though with a dozen men like the Weaver
of Germantown to help us, could do aught toward effecting his release.
However, we had at least learned his destination, which would prevent
us from wasting our time in trying to discover where he might be, and
this was no little gain.
More than that, we had gotten some satisfaction from having thus
overheard the conversation between Skinny and the lobster-backs, since
it served to show us of what mettle young Chris was made, and if so
be it was permitted he should come from out his troubles, I said to
myself that never again would I doubt his courage, nor never once
raise my voice in reproach when, to my mind, he was speaking rashly or
foolishly.
CHAPTER XIII
TURNING THE TABLES
And now have I come to that part of my story which sounds like a fable
even to myself, although I had in it an active part.
You can well fancy that we lads hidden in the cellar of that ruined
house, kept our ears wide open for any word or sound which might come
from the lobster-backs, and during mayhap five minutes after the
conversation ended, as I have already set down, we heard a movement as
if one or more of the men had risen to their feet and were lounging
away, evidently striving to make the time seemingly pass more quickly.
Then a moment later came a similar noise, and we heard Skinny Baker ask
in a querulous tone:
“What’s up now? Where are you fellows going?”
“It may be that is none of your concern,” one of the men replied
sharply from a distance. “If so be we are forced to spend a certain
number of hours lounging around here waiting for our people to come up,
then do we propose to act our pleasure in the matter.”
“But I am not to be left alone with the prisoner!” Skinny cried as if
in alarm, and one of the men replied with a laugh:
“Are you so brave a lad as to be afraid of a fellow whose hands are
tied, and who, therefore, could not do you harm even though he be so
inclined, as I fancy he is? Surely you have enough of courage to stand
guard over a helpless prisoner who is hardly as large as yourself.”
“It isn’t that I am afraid of him,” Skinny said in that whining tone
of his which always aggravated me; “but how do I know if some of the
rebels may not come this way while you are gone?”
“It would be a reasonably active rebel who could get ’twixt us and our
force on either side. You are penned in here by his majesty’s troops,
my young coward, and no harm can come to you, although I am free to
confess it would not break my heart if you did see a little grief just
now, for I like not the road on which you are traveling.”
Then all was silent, and Jeremy Hapgood gripped me by the hand until it
seemed almost as if his fingers would break through the flesh, while he
looked meaningly toward the opening that had formerly been the window
of the cellar, whereupon I understood full well that which was in the
lad’s mind.
The lobster-backs had left Skinny alone with young Chris, and now was
come the moment, at a time we least expected it, when there was a
possibility of aiding our comrade.
The only thing which might prevent us would be that the Britishers had
not gone out of sight, and as to that I determined to learn without
loss of time; for if peradventure we were to make an attempt at turning
the tables, then must our movements be quick--there were but few
seconds in which to figure how this plan or another might work. It
would be largely a matter of chance.
And I intended on the instant to make that chance come my way if
possible.
When I rose cautiously to my feet the eyes of my comrades were upon
me. They understood exactly that which was in my mind as I had divined
what Jeremy was thinking about, and even in the gloom I could see each
fellow nerving himself for a struggle, while I crept slowly forward
until it was possible, without too much risk of exposing myself, to
have a fairly good view of the outside.
Much to my surprise, and greatly to my delight, not a lobster-back was
in sight.
Because of being unable to see young Chris and Skinny, I counted that
they were sitting, most like, with their backs against the ruins just
at the right of the window, where they would be screened from view; but
as to their exact position I gave little heed.
The only question in my mind was as to whether the Britishers had gone
so far away that we might make a bold dash to aid our friend.
We were in the village of Germantown, and this cottage which had been
considerably more than half-burned by the enemy, stood amid, mayhap,
half a dozen others that were in much the same condition.
I fancied, in order to explain to myself where the lobster-backs had
gone, that they were simply bent on seeing what their army had done in
the way of destruction.
Now we had entered the cellar through this same window out of which I
was peering, and, so far as I knew, there was no other way by which we
could leave the place.
It would mean failure and probable capture if we attempted to crawl
through the aperture in plain sight of Skinny Baker, for while I was
not afraid of that Tory cur when he was alone, I knew that instead of
standing up to give us battle, he would run off screaming to summon the
Britishers.
Our only hope of making this venture a success, was to creep up on him,
but how that could be done I failed for the instant to see.
It was Jeremy Hapgood who solved the question, for while I stood
there gazing out, thinking, rather than striving to see anything in
particular, he clutched me by the coat-sleeve, and, turning, I saw that
all my comrades had gathered close around me, whereupon I moved away
from the window half a dozen paces, motioning them to follow.
When we were so far away that there was little danger Skinny might
overhear what we said, I put into words that which was in my mind.
Without waiting to make reply, Jeremy began running around the walls of
the cellar like a dog who is on the scent of game, and before one could
have counted twenty he halted suddenly, motioning with his hand for us
to come up.
When we stood by his side the matter was as clear as a pikestaff, for
there before us was an aperture where the walls had crumbled away, most
like under the heat, through which we might have crawled in couples.
This was at the rear of the building, so that if we came into the open
we would be to the right of Skinny, and screened from his view by the
ruins of the building.
You may well suppose that we did not linger after finding this opening.
Jeremy would have pressed forward to be the first out, and in so doing
have been exposed to the greatest danger, for we could not say but that
the lobster-backs might be within a few paces from where we emerged. I
pulled him back roughly.
As captain of the Minute Boys, it was not only my right, but my duty,
to take upon myself the greater share of the danger, and when he would
have quarrelled with me because of preventing him from sacrificing
his liberty, perhaps, if not his life, I heeded neither the words nor
the looks; but pushed out through the opening as rapidly as possible,
coming to a stop when my body was half in and half out of the cellar to
have a look around, for I was not minded to go too blindly into what
might prove to be a trap.
There was more of surprise than of pleasure in my mind when I noted
the fortunate fact that not a living being was in sight. The day had
well-nigh come to a close. Already the sun was sinking behind the
distant hills, and I could not believe the Britishers who were guarding
Skinny, would remain absent very long, for there could be no pleasure
in poking around the ruins of a half-burned village in the darkness.
Therefore it was I crept outside as rapidly as possible, and when
Jeremy’s head and shoulders appeared in the aperture, I urged him along
by pulling at his coat collar until I brought him out sprawling like a
crab, Timothy’s head appearing at the very instant Jeremy’s feet were
in the open air.
In less time than it has taken me to tell it, we four lads were out
of the cellar, standing behind the ruins for a single instant before
making the rush.
Then it was that I said to my comrades:
“Timothy and I will go around to the left until we have come to that
corner nearest where young Chris is lying. The other two shall stand
ready to leap out at the same moment we do, and if all of us move
swiftly, then have I the idea that we may prevent Skinny Baker from
making any outcry whatsoever.”
Without waiting to learn what the other lads might think of this plan,
I clutched Timothy by the arm, forcing him to follow me while I went at
the swiftest pace possible with due heed to avoid making a noise, and
when we were come to that corner of the ruins where it was possible to
get a glimpse of Skinny, I saw Jeremy’s head protruding from around the
charred timbers at the other end.
Thus far we had seen nothing whatsoever of the lobster-backs, and even
though they had been close at hand, verily do I believe we would have
made an attempt at a rescue just then, so thoroughly wrought up and
excited were we by the possibility of aiding our comrade.
On the instant I saw that Jeremy was ready, I leaped forward, and
fortune favoured me insomuch that Skinny was sitting near the window
on my side of the building, so close to where I was standing that with
one bound I was upon the fellow, jamming my hand over his mouth while I
strove to ward off the blows which the Tory cur was trying to deal me
full in the face.
Now it may seem odd; but at that moment I had more of a friendly
feeling in my heart for Skinny Baker than ever before, because, for the
first time in his life, did I see him show some signs of manliness.
Therefore when he struggled with me I was glad to learn he had a drop
or two of blood in his body which was not cowardly.
There was little time, however, for Skinny to show any resistance. In a
twinkling Jeremy was upon him, and while I held the fellow’s mouth so
that he could make no outcry, my comrade pulled the coat from his back,
tying it around the Tory’s mouth and head in such a fashion that verily
I was afraid he might be stifled, therefore would have loosened the
rough bandage, but Jeremy whispered hoarsely:
“Do not be too tender hearted, Richard Salter. It is in my mind that no
great harm would be done if this Tory did stifle, although I haven’t
the heart to kill him in cold blood.”
While Jeremy and I were engaged in fettering the prisoner, Tim and Sam
were not idle. They had cut the bonds that bound young Chris’s hands,
and were hustling the lad back to the place from which we had come,
gaining the shelter of the corner of the building just as Jeremy and I
completed our task.
Up to this moment there had been no thought in my mind as to what we
should do if peradventure we succeeded in rescuing young Chris.
Now, however, the matter came to me as one of greatest importance, and
even while we were dragging Skinny back on the path our comrades had
traversed, did I very nearly come to a halt in trying to decide this
vital question.
The Britishers, as we knew, were in front of us, or, in other words,
at Philadelphia in great force. Because of what the lobster-backs said
when they lounged away leaving Skinny alone, we had reason to believe a
certain portion of that force which counted on taking General Lafayette
prisoner, was at the time in our rear, bound for the city, and either
course we might take was likely to lead us directly into the arms of
those who served the king.
It was fortunate that Jeremy had no doubt in his mind as to exactly
what should be done. He continued on, dragging Skinny behind him, while
I, still clutching the Tory cur by one arm, naturally followed until we
were come to the place from which we had emerged, and there found Tim
and Sam, having forced Chris to go ahead, already creeping under cover.
It was no more than natural we should follow, and therefore, without
any deliberation or intent on my part, was our plan for the immediate
future settled upon.
We were forced to shove Skinny through like a log of wood, Jeremy going
ahead to pull him by the shoulders while I pushed at the fellow’s feet,
and when he dropped with a thud to the floor of the cellar, I followed,
asking in my mind whether we were not much the same as voluntarily
entering a trap by thus hiding in a place from which it would be a
simple matter for the lobster-backs to take us, if so be they knew
where we were hidden.
However, as I said to myself in order to still the doubts which were
rising in my mind, there was no other course just then to be pursued.
Go in whatsoever direction we might from that village of Germantown,
and there was every reason to believe we would come upon the enemy,
after which there could be no hope of escape, therefore even though we
were captured within the next ten minutes, was this our only place of
refuge.
A quarter-hour had not passed from the time Jeremy called to my
attention the fact that the lobster-backs were leaving Skinny and
his prisoner alone, when we were all in the cellar again, and after
clasping young Chris heartily by the hand to show how rejoiced I
was that we had thus far succeeded--although he must have known it
without the telling,--I set about striving to make Skinny Baker more
comfortable, or, in other words, to render it less liable for him to be
stifled.
In this work Timothy aided me by tearing off one of the Tory cur’s
coat-sleeves and tying it around the end of a stick, thereby making a
fairly good gag, which we took care to place between the fellow’s jaws
in such a manner that he could not work it loose.
Then, propping him up against the wall of the cellar where he would be
hidden from view of any who might be curious enough to look inside, we
Minute Boys gathered in one corner of the hiding place to indulge in
not a little crowing because we had succeeded so well in turning the
tables.
As a matter of course, we were eager to learn how young Chris had been
made a prisoner, and the story was soon told.
He had not been so fortunate as the rest of us in finding a horse; but
was forced to make his way from Philadelphia toward Barren Hill on
foot, and that the lad travelled swiftly we knew from the fact that he
arrived within four or five miles of General Lafayette’s position an
hour after sunrise.
Believing himself to be far in advance of the Britishers, he ceased to
exercise that caution which he should have maintained, and gave little
or no heed to what might be going on about him, when suddenly he came
upon a full regiment of red-coats, which had halted, probably awaiting
orders.
Even then he might have succeeded in persuading those who questioned
him, for as a matter of course he was seized immediately, that he
lived nearabout and had simply ventured there out of curiosity; but
it so chanced that that miserable cur of a Skinny Baker was with the
regiment, and on getting a glimpse of young Chris, immediately cried
out that he was a lad whom General Howe had long been seeking to make
prisoner.
Now why Skinny should have been with a regiment of soldiers, for he was
not a favourite either with the Britishers or the Tories, and certainly
not with rebels, I failed to understand, save that he must have come
from curiosity alone.
I dare venture to say that all the Tories in Philadelphia understood at
about the time our people gave them the famous scare, or immediately
afterwards, that a move against the American army was about to be made,
and, as we know, Skinny was abroad that night, therefore it would have
been a simple matter for him to have tailed on behind the first moving
regiment he chanced upon.
At all events, how he happened to be there was of little consequence.
That he was there resulted in young Chris’s being made prisoner and
thus held throughout all the day, forced to march here and there
while Skinny kept close at his side, jeering now and then, and
again threatening as to what should be done when they got back to
Philadelphia.
“If I could have smashed his face with my fist, it wouldn’t have
seemed quite so bad,” young Chris said, interrupting himself in the
story; “but my arms had been tied behind my back, as you found me, and
therefore I could do no more than bite my tongue, promising myself at
some later day, if so be I lived, that Skinny Baker would repent the
moment when he delivered me over to the lobster-backs.”
[Illustration: IN A TWINKLING JEREMY WAS UPON HIM.]
“I dare say you didn’t bite your tongue so badly but that you could
give him as good as he sent,” Jeremy interrupted grimly, and young
Chris replied, as if regretting having been so cautious:
“I thought it best not to make overly much talk, for there was no
telling what the lobster-backs might do by way of punishment, therefore
I let the Tory villain continue as he would.”
Well, it seems, as I have already said, that young Chris, with Skinny
guarding him by way of amusement, was marched here and there at the
tail of the regiment, until about four o’clock in the afternoon, when
suddenly a messenger came up to the commanding officer, whereupon a
guard of four men was detailed to take the prisoner back as far as
Germantown, there to await the coming of the troops.
That was young Chris’s story, and, as I had feared earlier in the day,
his capture was brought about through his own carelessness, for verily
a lad who would press on blindly at a time when he had every reason
to believe the enemy might be close about him, was much the same as
wickedly foolish.
However, the mistake had been corrected in some slight degree. Young
Chris was free, so far as being able to move around the cellar was
concerned, and Skinny had changed places with him; but now were we all
in the gravest danger, for within five or ten minutes--say half an hour
at the longest, the lobster-backs would return.
Failing to find their prisoner, it was only reasonable to suppose
they would make careful search, whereupon our hiding place must be
discovered. We were free as are rats in a trap; that is to say, we
could crawl about at will, but were painfully confined as to the scope
of our movements.
“We are bound to be taken as soon as the guard comes back,” young Chris
said as he brought his story to a close, and added while glancing
toward the prisoner, “If I want to pay the debt I owe Skinny Baker,
it’s time to set about it.”
“What do you count on doing?” I asked in alarm.
“Giving that Tory cur such a lesson that he won’t be able to forget
it in short order, and unless I begin the work now, am I likely to be
interrupted before it is finished.”
“But surely, young Chris, you don’t count on striking a helpless
prisoner?” I cried, catching him by the arm, and he answered me
fiercely, thus showing that in telling the story he had not given us
all the details:
“I shall be doing no differently from what he has done a dozen times
this day. I am minded that he shall know full well what it means to be
pummeled when a fellow can’t help himself!”
As a matter of fact, I had no right to interfere between young Chris
and the Tory villain. The lad had suffered through Skinner Baker during
the day, and I could not wonder that he was burning to make reprisals,
yet although I hated that little sneak quite as much as did he, it
would have pained me severely to see him set upon while he could not
raise a hand in his own defence.
Fortunately, however, I was not called upon to interfere between young
Chris and the prisoner, for at that moment Jeremy, who had seemingly
been plunged in a brown study during all the time of the story-telling,
whispered hoarsely to me as he laid a restraining hand on Chris’s
shoulder:
“Why should we sit here waiting for the lobster-backs to come and take
us in custody, as they surely will, for this cellar is bound to be the
first place searched when they find that the prisoner is missing.”
“And what may we do?” I asked with a laugh which had in it nothing of
mirth. “If so be you can point out the direction in which we stand one
single chance out of a hundred of escaping the enemy, then am I ready
to strive for that one possibility,” I replied sharply, for it seemed
to me at the moment as if Jeremy was talking veriest nonsense.
Then the lad motioned toward the charred timbers above our heads,
which lay as they had fallen when the building was burned, and even
then I failed to understand what he strove to convey, until he said
impatiently:
“Among those burned timbers are hiding places for a dozen lads like us,
and of a verity we are needing a refuge, therefore why should we sit
here listening to stories which can be told at any time, when we have
the opportunity to put ourselves out of the way so snugly?”
Even then I doubted as to whether we might conceal ourselves there, or,
if once hidden among the timbers, the lobster-backs could not bring us
out.
However, there was a chance, if so be we were able to crawl among the
ruins, and straightway all us lads set about making search for some
means of getting to the top of the cellar, where the timbers were
lodged like jackstraws just thrown on a table ready for the player.
Within five minutes I saw that Jeremy’s scheme was possible of
execution. That we could hide ourselves there seemed certain; but
whether it might be done in such fashion that the lobster-backs could
not find us, was another matter which would be settled later.
However, as to this last there was no good reason for anxiety. He who
crosses a bridge before he comes to it is indeed foolish.
Our first task was to find an aperture amid the ruins into which we
could thrust Skinny Baker, and you can well fancy that we lost no time
in making the search.
When we had climbed up on the cellar wall where we could have a view
of that mass of half-burned timbers, I saw that fifty boys might have
concealed themselves from view, and whispered to Jeremy and Chris to
pass me the prisoner, which they speedily did, handling him with as
little care as if he had been a log of wood.
As a matter of course he could make no protest, owing to the gag which
forced his jaws wide apart; but there was a look of terror in his eyes
which I could see even in the darkness, and I understood that the
cowardly cur believed he was come very near to his death.
After we had hidden the prisoner young Chris gave himself no concern
regarding anything save keeping near Skinny Baker, and I heard him
whisper in the coward’s ear as he laid himself down alongside the lad:
“Here am I counting to stay, Skinny, and if so be your friends, the
lobster-backs, are like to take me prisoner, I intend to choke the
life out of your worthless body before I am carried away again.”
Of course Skinny could make no reply; but it was a simple matter to
fancy the expression of terror which came over the scoundrel’s face,
for he must have known, as did I, by young Chris’s tone, that he would
keep his threat to the letter.
We were all hidden amid the timbers before there came from the outside
any token that the Britishers had returned, and then it was my heart
much the same as leaped into my mouth, when I heard one of the
lobster-backs cry sharply:
“Where are the lads?”
“Where you left them, of course,” another voice replied from a
distance, and the first speaker said in a tone very like that of alarm:
“But they are not here! It must be that some of the rebel force are
nearabout, else how could they have got away, for certain it is that
the Tory lad would hold on to the boy he was so eager to see hanged,
unless separated from him by force.”
Then was come the time, so I said to myself, when we would be dragged
out from our hiding place, for there was no question whatsoever in my
mind but that the soldiers would immediately search the cellar, since
it was the only spot nearabout where we might have taken refuge.
It was all very well for the lobster-backs, while they were safe in
Philadelphia and in such large force that there was little danger our
people could do aught of harm against them, to cry out that our army
was nothing more than rag-tag and bobtail which might be wiped out of
existence whenever they were so disposed; but the fact remained that
every Britisher, and I’ll not except General Howe himself, had a
wholesome dread and fear of these same rebels.
And it was this same fear to which we owed our escape, for when the
first soldier suggested that some of the rebel army must be in the
vicinity, his comrades were greatly alarmed, as could be told by the
sound of their voices when they came together near the building to
discuss the matter.
We could not hear their words; but had good reason for believing they
were more disturbed in mind regarding what might happen to themselves,
than because of the loss of the prisoner.
When mayhap five minutes had passed the cold chill of fear ran up and
down my spine, for then I understood from the noise that one of the
lobster-backs was crawling in through the cellar window, and there was
no doubt in my mind but that they had decided to make a search of the
ruins with the expectation of finding us.
That they would come upon us was almost absolutely certain, if any
decent kind of a search was made, and I said to myself that before the
sun had risen again, would I have a taste of what we rebels were called
upon to suffer when in the hands of that villainous jailor, Cunningham.
Jeremy, who was lying two feet or more away from me, reached out his
hand to touch me on the shoulder as if by way of sympathy, and I
believe there was in his mind much the same as had come to mine.
We could hear the second soldier entering; then the third and the
fourth, and I waited, holding my hand over my heart lest its loud
beating should give token of our whereabouts, for them to begin their
work; but to my surprise and utter amazement, instead of making any
search whatsoever of the cellar, they were seemingly content with
crouching on the floor where we lads had been hidden while they were on
the outside.
One, two, three minutes passed, and yet they remained motionless,
conversing in whispers. Then, suddenly, it was only with the greatest
difficulty I could prevent myself from laughing aloud, for now it was
I understood that these brave soldiers of the uniform of the king were
hiding, fearing lest that rag-tag and bobtail of an army was near
enough to do them harm.
There was seemingly no longer in their minds any thought of the
prisoner whom they ought to have guarded, or of the approaching force
that should have been warned if indeed the Americans were nearabouts;
but only the desire to save their own skins.
Now indeed were they playing much the same part that we rebels had been
forced to play, and I shook Jeremy by the shoulder again and again,
striving to make him understand how much of mirth there was in my heart
because the lobster-backs were so completely fooled.
It did not seem possible they could remain there many moments in hiding
without coming to understand somewhat of the truth, and yet never a
move was made by them as the moments passed.
At first they talked in whispers, as if fearing some of that rag-tag
and bobtail might be lurking close around outside, and then, when
nothing came to harm their precious bodies, they were less guarded in
speech, while we lay there shaking with mirth to hear them discussing
the chances of being able to rejoin their regiment.
As the time passed, however, these valiant soldiers of the king came
to have some little regard for the safety of their fellows, and began
speculating as to how it might be possible to give warning that the
Americans were close about in the vicinity of Germantown.
One man faintly suggested that some other rather than himself, go
out to meet the regiment which it was known would soon come into the
village; but no fellow among them was disposed to take upon himself
such a dangerous task.
Then came that suggestion which drove from my mind all thought of
merriment, and sent the blood cold through every vein.
“We might set these half-burned buildings on fire, and our people,
seeing the flames, would know that the rebels were somewhere nearabout,
or at least be cautious in their advance.”
“And what about ourselves?” one of the men asked, whereupon he who had
made this suggestion which was like, if carried out, to bring to a
speedy end the Minute Boys of Philadelphia, replied:
“We can doubtless find many such a hiding place as this, for ruins are
plenty nearabout. At all events, the light of the flames will give the
alarm, and our forces must of a certainty come up from Philadelphia to
learn the meaning of the fire.”
They discussed the matter from every point, but dwelling chiefly upon
their own safety, until having fully decided to build a fire under the
charred timbers, go out through the cellar window, and trust to fortune
for keeping clear of the American force which their imaginations had
conjured up.
Then I strove as never before, to decide whether we should take the
chances of a hand-to-hand struggle with four men who were armed, while
we had not even a club in the way of a weapon, or remain there amid the
timbers to be burned like mice in the grass.
CHAPTER XIV
A WARM PLACE
It is needless for me to say my comrades had heard the same which
came to my ears, and I had good proof that at least one of them was
seriously disturbed in mind, when Jeremy clutched me by the shoulder
so suddenly and with such a grip that it was all I could do to prevent
myself from crying outright.
Until this moment Skinny Baker had made no attempt at throwing out the
gag which was fastened so securely, nor had he resisted me in any way;
but now it was that he began to squirm about vigorously, as if using
all his strength in an effort to free himself from the bonds, for the
cowardly cur began to understand there was good chance he would be
burned to death by those same lobster-backs whom he counted as his
friends.
As a matter of course I understood, as did we all, that if so be the
Britishers set fire to the ruins while we were among the timbers, then
there was no help for us save we came out to struggle empty-handed
against armed men, which would be much the same as delivering ourselves
over as prisoners.
The one question was, what we should do, and that, I realized, remained
for me to answer since I called myself the captain of the Minute Boys;
but for the life of me I could hit upon no plan whatsoever.
To make any attempt at a battle with these lobster-backs was worse
than useless; we had far better walk out humbly and deliver ourselves
into their hands, than stand the chance of being mauled about cruelly
without hope of gaining anything whatsoever in the fight.
There was little time for a fellow to cast about him as to the
best course, even if there was any best in that situation, because
straightway, without further argument, the lobster-backs began moving
here and there in search of dry stuff with which to kindle a blaze,
and there was no question that within the next five minutes our frail
hiding place would be in flames.
Meanwhile Jeremy was gripping me yet more tightly by the shoulder, and
I, irritated by this seeming insistence that I should say what ought to
be done, moved ever so cautiously toward him until I could speak in his
very ear, when I asked impatiently:
“What would you have me do? What chance have we, save to go out and
give ourselves up?”
“That is to be done only at the last minute,” the lad replied in a
cautious tone, and I added angrily:
“Is it in your mind that the last moment has not yet come? It seems to
me we are at the end of our tether. There yet remains the poor hope of
fighting, with the certainty of being made prisoners.”
“I would do nothing of the kind,” Jeremy replied, and although he spoke
in a whisper I fancied I detected in his tone a ring of hope. “When
the fire has been kindled the lobster-backs must, perforce, leave the
cellar without loss of time.”
“Ay, and then shall we remain here to burn, or to follow them, as seems
for the moment best,” I added despondently, for I no longer had any
hope whatsoever.
“We shall at least be able to remain alive during a few moments,
and if so be death must come, it will not overtake us while the
lobster-backs can gloat over our sufferings,” the lad said, and I asked
incredulously, for his words, so far as he had spoken, seemed most
foolish:
“Then you would remain here in hiding until they have done their will?”
I asked.
“Ay, until they have built the fire, and after that there is still
a fighting chance. You must remember there is more than one opening
through which we can leave this trap, and I count on taking the risk
rather than giving myself up like a lamb to the slaughter,” Jeremy
replied boldly, and at the same time he kicked Skinny vigorously as
token that the Tory cur must cease his struggles, else might the
lobster-backs have token of our whereabouts before they had made ready
to depart.
If it so chances that anyone reads these lines which I have set down,
then I would ask him to strive in his imagination to put himself in our
place just for a moment.
Directly below us were four soldiers making ready to build a fire,
most likely under the very spot where we were hidden, and if Jeremy
Hapgood’s plan was carried out, then must we suffer from smoke as well
as heat until the Britishers had left the place. The cellar, at its
deepest part, was not more than five feet, and such a blaze as they
were likely to kindle would reach us almost at the same moment it
fastened itself upon the timbers, therefore were we likely to get a
scorching before the flames had made any headway, if peradventure we
were not first stifled by the smoke.
However, I was of the mind to do as Jeremy had said. From the time
this company of Minute Boys had been formed, his was ever the wisest
judgment regarding what should or should not be done, and verily even
though it had been young Chris who suggested it, must I have followed
the plan because there was none other, save that of meekly yielding
ourselves prisoners.
It seemed to me that the lobster-backs had no sooner begun hunting for
dry wood than the fire was started, and, as I had feared, the first
tongues of flame, which came up from a huge pile of charred lumber they
had dragged together, appeared between the timbers almost directly
beneath where I lay, therefore was it that my situation seemed likely
to prove the most disagreeable, if not the most dangerous.
Meanwhile Skinny continued to struggle as best he might, Jeremy and
Tim kicking him now and then; but without avail. The Tory cur was so
frightened, as well he might be, that he gave no heed to the punishment
inflicted upon him by our lads, but thought only of what seemed a
fact--that he, as well as we, would be burned until we were dead.
I strove to divert my mind from the pain and from the danger, by
listening intently for the movements of the soldiers, and soon came
to understand that they had lost no time in crawling out through the
cellar window.
Jeremy had been equally watchful, for when the last fellow went
through the aperture he began crawling toward the end of the timbers
where they had lodged against the cellar wall on the north side, and
at the same time he dragged the struggling Tory with him, as if having
more care to save Skinny Baker from pain than to shield himself.
I would have followed close on his heels but that young Chris had begun
to move almost at the same moment, and, following him, went Tim and
Sam, therefore was I left the last, as most like was right, since I
counted myself to be the leader and therefore should occupy the post of
greatest danger or greatest pain.
While Jeremy dragged at Skinny, the other lads pushed the fellow along,
taking no special heed as to gentleness, and even while the smoke was
curling above me, causing my throat to smart and my eyes to burn, I had
a feeling of gratification that the Tory cur was suffering even more
than were we, for in addition to the discomfort caused by the blaze,
was the rough handling he received from those who were trying to force
him into a place of comparative safety.
I have no very clear idea of how I came out amid the network of timbers
to the bottom of the cellar, and there lay at full length with my face
pressed against the floor of beaten earth, striving to free my lungs
from smoke.
The lads afterward told me that I would have smothered to death,
but for their pulling at me even as they had at Skinny, because,
before Sam, who was next ahead of me, had gotten out, I was well-nigh
suffocated and had nearly lost consciousness.
It was Jeremy who forced me to get to my feet that we might go to the
other end of the cellar, where was the aperture through which we had
crept when making ready for the attack upon Skinny, and once there we
were able to breathe the comparatively fresh air, giving the greatest
relief, I think, I ever experienced in all my life.
The cellar was not large. Already were the timbers aflame and the heat
was growing exceeding painful, yet we gave little or no heed to it,
owing to the pleasure of filling our lungs with that sweet night air.
I noted that the gag had been taken from Skinny’s mouth, and young
Chris, the last member of the party whom I would have credited with
kindly feelings toward the Tory cur, explained, when he saw I noticed
the fact, that he had removed it with threats to kill the lad if
he made an outcry, because of wanting to save him from the pain of
suffocation such as we had all experienced.
During an instant I believed such a move to be unwise in the
extreme, for Skinny had but to raise his voice in order to give the
lobster-backs to understand that someone remained in the cellar; but
Jeremy whispered:
“Have no fear he will try to give an alarm. He knows full well what
will be the result, for I have promised to kill him in cold blood if
he makes the slightest noise, and, besides, he is so nearly suffocated
that I question if he could do very much more than squeak.”
Well, we stood there breathing in the sweet air, and feeling
uncomfortably warm, while one might have counted twenty, and then I
was so far recovered from the effects of the smoke as to realize that
now was come the time when we must run some risks if we would save
ourselves from a most painful death.
Therefore it was I said to the lads, not fearing to speak in an
ordinary tone because the crackling of the flames would drown my voice
from any who might be outside:
“I count on venturing forth now. If so be you hear an outcry, then
look about you for some other means of escape, even though I question
if there be any, for you will know that I have been taken prisoner.
If peradventure the coast be clear, you shall hear of it at once, and
must follow without loss of time, for if we are to make our escape this
night, it is to be done in short order, before the flames have gotten
sufficient headway to light up the village.”
No one made any attempt at staying me as I crept out through the
aperture. All knew that this was the only course to be pursued, and
perhaps he who might be taken prisoner by the Britishers would suffer
even less than those who remained behind too long.
So eager was I to learn what we might expect on the outside, that I
gave but little heed to caution, forcing myself out through the narrow
opening as rapidly as possible, and once beyond the wall of the cellar,
I stood up, regardless of whoever might see me, in order to have a
better view of the surroundings.
Verily it seemed as if the same kindly fortune which had watched over
us thus far, still had us lads in mind, for never a living being was
in sight. The lobster-backs must have fled in the opposite direction,
and if so be we could get beyond the rays of light within a short time,
then was there yet a possibility of our going free.
I could have cried aloud with joy because of this fortunate
circumstance; but there was no time in which to rejoice just then, and,
bending down with my face to the aperture, I said hurriedly to Jeremy,
who was standing by to learn what I might have discovered:
“No one is in sight. Come as quickly as you can, for as yet the flames
are not casting any light in this direction, the ruins being afire only
at the further end.”
There was no need for me to say more. Almost before I had ceased
speaking was Skinny Baker thrust through without ceremony, and as he
came out much like a log of wood, I grasped him by the throat lest he
make an outcry.
“You needn’t fear that I’ll try to do you any harm,” the cowardly cur
said whimperingly when I relaxed my hold sufficiently for him to speak.
“I have had enough of this fighting for the king, and am done with it
from now on.”
“Don’t fancy for a single moment, Skinny Baker, that I or any of our
party are afraid of what you may do, and as regards your fighting for
the king, you never have done so thus far. Your work, whatsoever it has
been, was that of a sneak’s, and if you fancy I am inclined to believe
you are done with meddling in this trouble ’twixt the king and the
colonies, then you take me for a greater simple than I really am.”
By this time the other lads were out of the cellar, and Jeremy seized
Skinny by one arm while I held him by the other, forcing him to bend
low that we might thereby stand less chance of being seen.
Then we three, followed by our comrades, ran at full speed straight
away from this place of refuge which had like to have been our tomb,
heeding not where we went so that we might gain the cover of darkness
amid the bushes beyond.
I believe we ran a full half-mile without stopping, and then were come
to a bunch of willows growing by the side of a small brook, where we
threw ourselves down, not only to rest and regain breath, but to decide
upon some course of action, for this travelling at random was like to
be dangerous work while the Britishers were nearabout, as we had good
reason for believing.
However, the enemy was not so near our halting place that we could hear
or see anything of him, and straightway, as soon as it was possible to
speak, Jeremy said to me:
“I’m thinking, Richard, that our best course is to make an attempt at
getting to Valley Forge, unless the lads are minded that we shall set
this Tory free.”
“That we won’t do,” young Chris cried quickly and stoutly. “I am
determined that he shall be held a prisoner so long as pleases me, even
though I take the chances of going to the gallows every hour in the
day.”
“But what will you do with him?” Jeremy asked, and I replied:
“We might send him to Valley Forge, and if so be the Weaver of
Germantown yet remains there, I guarantee that he will hold him close
prisoner during a certain time at least.”
“_Send_ him back,” Timothy repeated. “Have you no idea of going
yourself, Richard Salter?”
“No,” I replied, and my plans were made on the instant. “We were
ordered to go back to Philadelphia that we might be there in case
of need, and I count on obeying the command, regardless of any such
miserable whelp as Skinny Baker.”
“I will go with you, as a matter of course,” Jeremy said quietly, as
if there could have been no question as to what he would do. “Why not
let the other lads take charge of Skinny, and find their way either to
Swede’s Ford, or Valley Forge, as the case may be?”
Not only did this appear to be a good plan, but it was the only thing
I could think of at the moment. Although it was impossible to guess
how we might be of service to the colonies when we were once hiding in
the Jolly Tar inn, I felt that we must go there because of having been
sent, and owing to the fact that the Weaver of Germantown, believing us
to be there, might lay out some important work for us to do.
It would be more easy for two of us to gain that hiding place while
the lobster-backs were stirred up, as we had every reason to believe
they must be, than for the entire party, and surely we could not hope
to take Skinny with us, nor would it be safe to make the attempt. As I
looked at the matter, I could say in the words of the old adage, that
the game was not worth the candle.
Better that Tory scoundrel went free and unpunished, than that we
should fail of being at our post of duty whenever we were needed, and
just at the moment I had little care what became of Skinny; but young
Chris settled the matter without much parley, by saying:
“I am more inclined for Valley Forge than Philadelphia, just now, and
count that Skinny shall have ample knowledge of what it means to be
a prisoner. If so be none of the rest of you are of the same mind, I
shall go on with him alone; but certain it is that whatever plans you
may make, it will be necessary to count me out, unless they are formed
with the idea of holding this young cur in our power.”
“Timothy and Sam shall go with you,” I replied promptly, as if having
already decided upon such course. “Jeremy and I will strike out for
Philadelphia, and if so be you come upon the Weaver of Germantown in
the camp, tell him that we count on gaining the Jolly Tar inn if we
live sufficiently long.”
Then I would have given the lads instructions as to how they should
proceed, and perhaps very much advice that might not have been of any
avail, for it seemed to me that as captain of the Minute Boys it was
my duty to instruct each and every one of them, even though they might
know more concerning the matter under discussion than did I; but young
Chris was not minded to listen.
His one fear was that the Britishers might come stealthily upon us,
thus giving Skinny an opportunity to escape, and just at that time the
baker’s son had more care to holding the young Tory prisoner, than he
had for his own safety.
Without a word of farewell, or even waiting to learn what Tim and Sam
thought of the proposition, he pulled Skinny Baker roughly to his feet
and started off, crossing the stream and going, as I fancied, in the
direction of the river, which would be his proper course since it must
bring him directly to Swede’s Ford, from which place he could get
information as to the location of Valley Forge.
“I suppose it is our duty to follow him,” Tim said ruefully as he rose
to his feet. “You are right, Richard, about its being easier for two
lads to go through the city of Philadelphia just now, than for five,
therefore am I minded to do as you commanded; but it would please me
much better to share with you and Jeremy all the dangers.”
“There is an equal amount of danger in making the attempt to gain
Valley Forge,” I replied, striving hard to speak in a cheery tone. “You
know full well that the Britishers are nearabout; they may be between
us and Swede’s Ford even now, therefore are you as likely to come upon
them to your grief, as are Jeremy and I.”
Tim turned quickly and followed young Chris, as indeed he had need to,
for the baker’s son was moving so swiftly that in a few seconds he
would have been lost to view in the gloom.
Then Sam wheeled about as if unwillingly, and finally he also
disappeared from our view, while Jeremy and I lay there on the ground,
each striving to read the thoughts of the other concerning the attempt
to gain the Jolly Tar inn, for verily, after all that had happened, it
would be a most dangerous venture.
By this time our late hiding place was in flames; we could see in the
distance the sky lighted up as if by a great conflagration, telling
that more than one of the ruins had been fired by the lobster-backs,
and there was every reason to believe that their scheme of alarming
the Britishers in Philadelphia would be successful.
At that particular time, after having been nearly frightened to death
and then outwitted by a mere boy, General Howe would not be in an
enviable mood, and I could well fancy that all in the city who wore
the king’s uniform and carried muskets, would be called out to defend
his high mightiness against the rag-tag and bobtail that were suddenly
becoming so active.
Were it not that I must cut this story short because of knowing that
the time is near at hand when I, who am now regularly enlisted in the
Continental army, will be called upon for service, I could set down
many words concerning our efforts to gain the Jolly Tar inn, for the
way was not smooth nor readily traversed.
I hardly need say that we followed down the river, not only because it
seemed to us to be out of the way of the Britishers, if so be they came
up to Germantown to learn the cause of the conflagration, but also that
we might come upon the city on a course that was familiar to us.
Even though we were thus beyond what would naturally be the line of
march for those who were going to Germantown, did we come upon squad
after squad, company after company, of lobster-backs, who were hurrying
forward as if believing the Americans were ready to give them battle.
At such times Jeremy and I hid ourselves in the thicket, or plunged
into the river and remained there with only our heads above the
surface, oftentimes forced to halt a full hour until the enemy had
passed.
When morning came we were yet a considerable distance from our
destination, and it was not needed any should tell us that we must
remain in hiding during the hours of daylight.
We went back from the river near to half a mile before finding a
thicket which would seem to serve our purpose, and there, without food,
and suffering from the heat, for the day was exceeding warm even though
so early in the spring, we remained with more or less of patience until
another night had come, when we set out, forced to make many a detour
before finally arriving at the tavern.
We gained the rear of the building early in the morning--perhaps two
o’clock,--and it was in my mind that we would not be able to arouse
Master Targe without danger of being overheard by some of his Tory
neighbours; but, greatly to my surprise, no sooner had I tapped on the
door ever so gently, than it was opened, and the sour-visaged landlord
bade us enter quickly that he might not seem to have his inn open at
such an hour.
“Were you expecting us, Master Targe?” I asked in surprise, and he
replied gruffly:
“I counted on your being here last night.”
“Why could you have supposed we would have come then?” Jeremy asked in
amazement, and the man gave answer as if he was unwilling even to speak:
“Those of us who are striving to lend a hand to the colonies, have
means of communicating with each other now and then. You lads must not
hug to yourselves the idea that you are the only messengers which come
’twixt Philadelphia and Valley Forge. Now you will get into the room
you know so well, in order to be prepared for to-morrow’s work.”
“Do you know what there may be for us to do, sir?” I asked in
astonishment, yet striving to figure out how this man could have heard
that we should have arrived the night previous.
“You will be told when the time for work comes,” was all the reply he
would make, and when we made to linger, he actually forced us along
the passage and up the stairs as if afraid we might be seen by someone
already in the house, or that we might see more than he intended for
our eyes.
I took notice of the fact that Master Targe locked the chamber door on
the outside, thus making us much the same as prisoners, and although we
had good reason for knowing the innkeeper was a friend to the Cause,
else the Weaver of Germantown would not have made of this house a
rendezvous, yet was there an unpleasant suspicion in my mind that foul
play might be intended, therefore I said as much to Jeremy when we had
thrown ourselves down on the bed of straw.
“There is neither need nor sense in borrowing trouble, Richard Salter.
We have been sent to this place, and I would have come even though
knowing beyond a peradventure that Master Targe was a Tory who would
do us all the harm in his power. We have obeyed orders as Minute Boys
should, and without question, therefore, since we have been so lucky as
to escape the lobster-backs all the way from Germantown here, let us be
satisfied.”
“I can easily be satisfied with what we ourselves have done, and at
the same time feel disagreeable in mind concerning the future,” was
my reply; but Jeremy had no mind to continue the conversation, and
within five minutes his loud breathing told that he had fallen asleep,
therefore I could do no less than follow his example.
When I was next conscious of my surroundings Master Targe had entered
the room and was shaking me roughly, saying when I opened my eyes in a
dazed manner, as does one who is rudely aroused:
“It is time for you to be moving, Richard Salter. There are no minutes
to be lost just now, for verily has the time come when we who love the
Cause must bestir ourselves.”
“What would you have me do?” I asked, springing to my feet on the
instant and thoroughly wide awake, for such a speech as this was well
calculated to put a fellow in possession of all his faculties, and the
reply which the innkeeper gave was such as caused me to start back in
astonishment and fear.
“I would have you go at once to your mother’s home. The lobster-backs
who lodge there are now at headquarters, as I have just received
information, and if so be you meet with no one on the street who knows
you, then will it be possible to gain admittance unobserved by the
enemy.”
“But surely I will be made prisoner as soon as the officers come back,”
I replied, and it is not certain but my voice trembled, for it seemed
to me that of all the work which we lads who called ourselves Minute
Boys had done, this venturing into my own home where were lodging three
of his majesty’s officers, was the most perilous.
“If your mother cannot find a hiding place for her son, then we may
truly say there is none on this earth for him,” Master Targe replied
grimly, and after an instant’s hesitation I asked:
“Once there, what would you have me do?”
“It is positive that the Britishers are about to make some move, most
like against our people at Valley Forge. Your mother will do all she
may to overhear what is said between her lodgers; but it would not be
possible, under ordinary circumstances, for her to get out of doors at
a late hour in the night to tell us of that which has been learned,
therefore you are to stay there and act as her messenger.”
I breathed more freely, knowing that the lodgers never went around
the house, save from the street-door to their own rooms, and had no
question but that if it was simply a matter of remaining hidden, it
could readily be done. Besides, I had for the instant forgotten the
pleasure which would be mine in being with my mother once more, and now
was I as eager to set off as a moment previous I had been halting.
“Be very careful, Richard Salter, even as you walk through the streets,
for word has come to me since daylight that we who have tried to
aid the Weaver of Germantown are in great danger. I have sent out a
messenger to meet him, fearing lest he should come down from Valley
Forge without giving due warning.”
“Do the lobster-backs know that he has been playing the spy?” Jeremy
asked in a tremulous voice, and Master Targe replied, as he let his
hands fall by his side in token of helplessness:
“Ay, lad, God help him and us, they do. How the suspicion can have been
set on foot I fail of understanding.”
I would have lingered to ask further questions, but that Master Targe
pushed me roughly toward the door as he said:
“Go out by the rear entrance; your comrade will stay here, and if so
be you have word to bring me in the night, knock softly twice on the
window of the tap-room. You may be certain I shall remain on guard
there to await your coming.”
Then it was that I hurried home, taking due care, as I was well like
to do after having been warned by the innkeeper, lest I come upon the
lobster-backs.
It was not a difficult matter for a lad who knew the city as well as
did I, to avoid Britishers, for one could go across this garden or
through that alley without much risk of being looked upon as a fugitive
during the time of daylight.
Of the meeting with my mother I shall say nothing. It can readily be
fancied how joyful it was, and how great was my pleasure at being with
the dear woman once more.
It was a full half-hour that she held me in the kitchen, asking what I
had done and how much of danger I had been in, and pressing me now and
then against her breast fervently as she prayed aloud that I might be
spared to her--to her, a widow, whose only son I was.
As for the hiding place, that was arranged in a simple manner. Directly
over the kitchen was a loft which we used as a store-place for odds and
ends, and there I made for myself a bed where it was possible to hear
my mother as she moved to and fro.
For the first time since I had pledged myself to act as one of the
Minute Boys of Philadelphia, did I feel that I was no longer in danger
from those who served the king.
I believe I had thus remained in fancied security no more than one
hour, hugging myself mentally because of finding that my work as Minute
Boy was cast in such pleasant places so suddenly, and then came those
tidings which well-nigh caused my heart to stand still.
I heard the kitchen door open suddenly, and a hoarse voice ask
hurriedly:
“Are you alone, Mistress Salter? Are your lodgers in the house?”
“They have not been here since morning.”
“And Richard?”
“He is nearabout,” my mother replied guardedly.
Then it was that I recognized Baker Ludwig’s voice, as he said
sufficiently loud to be heard in my hiding place:
“God help us who love the Cause, and may God help the colonies! Much
that we in Philadelphia have done is known to General Howe, by what
means I cannot say. Within the hour Master Targe, landlord of the Jolly
Tar inn, has been arrested, and there was found in his house, hiding in
one of the back rooms, Jeremy Hapgood, who, as I know, was concerned
with your son and mine aiding the Weaver of Germantown in his work.”
CHAPTER XV
A NARROW ESCAPE
There is little need for me to speak of the terror which flooded my
heart as I heard this announcement of Master Ludwig’s, for verily
did it seem as if the end was come for us who had striven to aid the
colonies.
From what Skinny Baker had told when he was released from imprisonment
under the lumber pile, the Britishers knew that a certain number of
us lads were banded together as Minute Boys for the purpose of doing
whatsoever might come to hand that would aid the Cause; but most like
up to that time they had not been aware of the part played by the
innkeeper of the Jolly Tar.
Now, however, all this had been made known to them in some mysterious
manner, and I had no doubt but every last one of us would be hunted
down that we might be brought to answer for what had been done against
the king, even though it was so slight and so poor in results.
My brain was in such a whirl, and the terror which beset me was so
overwhelming, that during a certain time I was hardly aware of what
took place around me, and then I realized that Master Ludwig was giving
my mother yet further information regarding all this trouble that had
come upon us.
Striving to put behind me the fear which caused every limb to tremble
as if I was afflicted with an ague fit, I threw myself at full length
on the floor in order that I might hear the better.
I could only guess at what Master Ludwig had said during that time when
I was entirely given over to fear; but that which he was saying now
threw a little light on the terrible matter.
“Something happened at Germantown last night which gave the Britishers
a fine fright, and perchance your son may be able to tell us what it
was. At all events, several of the half-burned houses were set on fire,
and when the Britishers gathered there, believing our people were about
to make an attack, it was learned that a party of boys--yours and
mine among them, Mistress Salter--had rescued a prisoner from a squad
of lobster-backs. What was more to the purpose, they took another in
exchange, disappearing almost immediately afterward. How it chanced
that they were tracked to the Jolly Tar inn I cannot say; but some
friend to the king must have seen them entering that tavern, and Master
Targe was arrested. We will hope they have no other proof that he has
served us of the colonies.”
Then it was my mother told Master Ludwig where I was hidden, and
straightway the baker came up into the loft, asking anxiously if I knew
aught concerning young Chris.
As a matter of course, I told him how we had rescued the lad after
Skinny Baker had succeeded in causing his arrest, and the story pleased
Master Ludwig amazingly.
He clapped me on the shoulder again and again, chuckling meanwhile
to himself as if he had heard something most comical, and seemingly
forgetting for the time the peril which surrounded us.
As a matter of fact, he need have had no concern for young Chris, who
was most likely at that moment safe at Valley Forge. But it seemed to
me in my fearsome trouble, that he should have taken into account that
Jeremy was a prisoner with the awful charge of being a spy hanging over
him, while I must flee for my life, for if peradventure the Britishers
knew I was concerned in this last matter, or if I was one of the
two who entered the Jolly Tar inn the night previous, then would my
mother’s house be searched without loss of time.
As this idea came into my mind I started up feverishly, crying out,
with little heed as to who might hear me:
“I must make every effort to leave the city, and at once! There is no
safety for me now save with our army!”
“Sit ye down, lad,” Master Ludwig said kindly, as he forced me back
upon the makeshift for a bed which I had arranged. “It is certain the
lobster-backs have not mixed you up in this business, else would your
mother’s house have been searched long ere this. I grant you there is
but one course, and that to join our forces at Valley Forge; but let
us consider how it may best be brought about, for I warrant you agree
with me that it is not exactly safe for you to walk boldly through the
streets of the town.”
“But I dare not wait until nightfall!” I cried, and now so great was my
fear that most like I acted as if having lost all my wits.
Young Chris’s father took me by the hand, as he said in a most kindly
tone:
“I would not ask you, Richard Salter, to remain here a single moment
if I did not believe it to be for the best. When I heard that Master
Targe had been arrested, the fear in my mind was that everything had
been discovered by the enemy. Now, however, I am inclined to believe
it was a matter of accident--that you two lads were seen by some
sneaking Tory to enter the house, and the innkeeper taken into custody
on suspicion, else would the lobster-backs have been here in Drinker’s
alley long since.”
“But even though all this be true, it stands me in hand to leave the
city as soon as may be, if for no other purpose than that I may warn
the Weaver of Germantown,” I cried. “It was his purpose to come into
Philadelphia soon--I believe within the next four and twenty hours, and
unless he can be told of what has taken place, then is he certain to go
directly to the Jolly Tar. Having done so, he will be made a prisoner
on the moment, for it stands to reason the lobster-backs are watching
that place, holding it open as they would a trap, for those who have
been in the custom of visiting Master Targe.”
“I understand full well, Richard Salter, that you must not only leave
the city as soon as may be, but also get word to Valley Forge. Before
you make the attempt, however, I will go out around the town with my
ears open, and hear what is said on the streets. Wait patiently until
my return, for I promise not to be away above an hour.”
As a matter of course I could do no less than Master Ludwig suggested,
for surely a difference of sixty minutes in the time of my departure
would neither make nor mar the effort to escape.
Young Chris’s father went straightway out into the street, my mother
coming into the loft as soon as he had gone and taking me in her arms
as if I was once more a baby, rocked herself to and fro as she pressed
me tightly to her breast, much as though believing my last hour on this
earth was near at hand.
So great was her grief and so vivid her terror, that I longed most
ardently for the return of the baker that I might set off without loss
of time. Action, however dangerous, was far preferable to remaining
there witnessing the dear woman’s grief and hearing her forebodings in
my behalf.
I dare say young Chris’s father returned speedily, although it seemed
to me he had been gone a full half-day. On returning, instead of
knocking at the kitchen door to warn us of his coming, he entered
without ceremony, making his way directly to the loft, and saying as
soon as he was there:
“I believe, Richard, that you had best make the venture now. I
have visited all the coffee-houses where the lobster-backs most do
congregate, and failed to hear anything to cause great alarm. It is
true that you and Jeremy Hapgood were seen to enter the Jolly Tar inn
at a late hour last night, or, perhaps I should say, at an early hour
this morning, and the fact that the door was opened immediately you
arrived, showed the watcher, whoever he might be, that your coming was
expected. Therefore it was reasonable to suppose you were engaged in
some business which was unlawful in the sight of the king’s soldiers.”
“And they know no more than that Jeremy and I visited the tavern this
morning?” I cried, feeling as if a great burden had been rolled from my
shoulders.
“Ay, lad, that seems to be the substance of it; but from what I heard
here and there, it appears that the lobster-backs have an idea they
may be able to get more information, if peradventure they can find the
second boy, meaning you. It is evident that neither Master Targe nor
Jeremy Hapgood have thus far been induced to tell who you are, and the
chances for your getting away just now seem to me better than if you
waited until the thick-headed Britishers have come to suspect that
perhaps the son of Mistress Salter, who has before been detected in
treasonable acts, might have been Jeremy’s companion.”
It can well be understood that after such advice as this I did not
linger in my mother’s house. I was as eager to begin the venture as
Master Ludwig was to have me go, and, kissing my mother fervently, I
went down the narrow stairway into the kitchen, wondering whether I
would ever be able to return.
Before I could unlatch the door my mother was close by my side,
insisting that I stop sufficiently long for her to fill my pockets with
food, and I could do no less than allow her such poor comfort.
Young Chris’s father had come from the loft before I was again ready
to set off, and, shaking me heartily by the hand, bade me tell his son
to remain at Valley Forge, or wheresoever the American army might be,
until the Britishers had left Philadelphia.
“They are to leave, Richard. They are soon to evacuate this city even
though our people do not raise a hand against them, for by this time
they have begun to understand that no good can come of remaining here
in idleness. You boys are to be cautious. Do not force yourselves to
the front when a service of peril is to be performed; but, also, do
not shirk danger if so be you are called upon to meet it.”
Then I was in the alley, walking rapidly and yet striving not to appear
in a hurry; having a certain sense of relief because I was in the open
air and could no longer see the grief of my mother, and fancying that
every shadow was a lobster-back who had been sent to take me in custody.
I walked directly across the city without being molested in any way.
Those whom I passed, and you may be certain I did not allow any to come
near me if so be there was an alley-way in which to hide myself, gave
no more heed than if I had been a homeless dog.
Having gotten beyond where the houses were set thickly together, I
began to believe that all danger was over--that I had once more come
out from among the lobster-backs without harm. There was a song of
thanksgiving in my heart, and I burned to cry aloud in my joy, when
suddenly, as I passed an outbuilding nearby Isaac Norris’s storehouse,
not dreaming there was anyone in the vicinity, a man stepped out from
behind it, and, suddenly catching me by the coat collar viciously, drew
me quickly back within the shadow of the trees.
Wriggling to the best of my strength, I contrived to look up into the
man’s face, and then did my heart grow heavy as lead in my breast, for
he who held me so securely was none other than Master Baker, Skinny’s
father!
Then did I say to myself that now verily was I much the same as in the
custody of the Britishers, for this venomous Tory, knowing something of
what I had already done to his son, and most like guessing a portion of
the rest, would not allow the grass to grow under his feet, until he
had turned me over to the lobster-backs as a dangerous spy.
During a full half-minute I gazed at him and he at me, the one most
likely speculating as to how he could best avenge the injury done his
son, and the other, as I know full well, wondering whether, with such
a charge as Master Baker could make against him, he would be able to
remain long away from the gallows.
“Do you know where my son is, Richard Salter?” Skinny’s father asked
sharply as he shook me vigorously by the coat collar, and, without
stopping to reflect upon what might be the result of such an answer;
but counting only on giving proof that I was not so chicken-hearted as
his cur of a boy, I replied without hesitation:
“Ay, Master Baker, he is most like in Valley Forge, at least, he was
headed that way when last I saw him.”
“So then you have been concerned again in treasonable acts against the
king?” the man snarled, and although my peril was great, it pleased me
wondrously that I could thus aggravate him.
“How long since has it been an act against the king to serve Skinny out
as he deserves?” I cried mockingly. “Verily his majesty will be kept
busy if he concerns himself with those who would give your son that
which he has earned.”
“It is not well for you to be so flippant, Richard Salter, for now is
it in my power to send you to prison, and from there, mayhap, to the
gallows.”
“I grant you all that, Master Baker,” I replied, and was even myself
astonished because the fear which previously beset me had now passed
away, leaving my mind as free from care as if there had never been
such a person in all the world as Skinny Baker’s father, or his majesty
of England. “I grant you all that, and if so be it is brought about,
then may you count to a certainty your son will be served the same
dose, for I guarantee he will be closely guarded until I am once more
at Valley Forge to show that I have come through this city in safety.
What happens to me here, will happen to Skinny at Valley Forge, make no
mistake regarding that, Master Baker.”
It was a threat uttered at random; an idea which had come into my mind
on the spur of the moment, and yet it told as if the words were true as
Holy Writ.
Master Baker half staggered back while his face paled, and I understood
he fully believed all I had told him, for indeed it would not have been
strange had we lads agreed with the Weaver of Germantown that Skinny
should be held as hostage for the safe return of Jeremy and me.
In fact, if we had not been thick-headed, we might have hit upon some
such plan; but even though we had not, the threat which I thus made at
random served nearly as good a purpose as if it had been the truth.
Master Baker shook me violently, as if he would thus relieve his
feelings and perhaps force a different story from my lips, and when he
was done with such exercise, I, looking him full in the face, asked
tauntingly:
“Well, why do you not take me to General Howe’s headquarters, and
repeat that which I have just told you?”
“Did my son know that whatsoever was done to you here in Philadelphia
would be meted out to him?” Master Baker asked after a brief pause,
and I replied without hesitation, as if it was a well-known fact:
“Ay, he must have, else had he lost his ears. I dare say it will please
him greatly to know that whatsoever comes to him is due to the act of
his father.”
If I had struck Master Baker full in the face he could not have shrunk
back more quickly, or given evidence of keener pain, and I fancied his
grip on my collar was slightly relaxed.
Like a flash of light came to me the idea that it might yet be possible
to escape from Skinny’s father, and, exerting all my strength, I
wheeled about even as he held me firmly, lowering my head and butting
him full in the pit of the stomach with such force that he was thrown
against the side of the building with a thud that caused him to grunt
like a pig.
You can well fancy that I did not lose a single second before setting
off in flight.
Whether it was that I had dealt the man such a blow as to render him
incapable of pursuit, or if he hesitated to raise the hue and cry
against me because of that fate which might come to his son, I cannot
say; but certain it is that within two minutes after having delivered
the blow, I was running behind the ropewalk toward the river a good two
squares away from Skinny’s father, while never a sound could I hear
from the rear.
It seemed hardly possible, when Master Baker had his grip on my coat
collar, that I could escape, for the venomous Tory was bent on gaining
revenge because of what had been done to his son.
[Illustration: BUTTING HIM FULL IN THE PIT OF THE STOMACH.]
Yet I had given him the slip, although it could not have been done but
for the fact that he, like Skinny, was a coward, and when I had made up
that story which shall not be set down against me as a lie, because my
life was trembling in the balance, he was not brave enough to say that
his son should bear, for the good of the king, what might come to him.
Instead of showing himself a man, he was so far overcome by my words,
together with the blow which I gave him in the stomach, as to literally
be reduced to helplessness.
However, now that I was free it might be only for the moment, and I
had no reason for loitering anywhere in the vicinity of Philadelphia,
therefore set off stoutly, yet not rapidly because of the necessity of
keeping a sharp lookout ahead.
To run into a squad of lobster-backs just at this time would have
been much the same as if Master Baker had taken me to headquarters,
and however good an excuse I might have presented for being in that
vicinity, I knew full well it would not be received by whosoever came
across me.
It was certain now, after all which had happened, that anyone caught
while seemingly making an attempt to leave the city, would be forced to
give a mighty strict account of himself.
Therefore it was I kept on steadily but slowly, until when, as nearly
as I could say, it was nigh to noon, I saw in the distance, and coming
toward me, a figure which looked strangely familiar, yet I dared not
risk the chance of being seen.
Taking advantage of the first clump of bushes which grew near at hand,
I hid myself in a clumsy fashion and waited mayhap ten minutes, when
I saw that he from whom I had thus screened myself was none other than
Timothy Bowers.
One can well fancy the joy which came into my heart when I sprang out
of the hiding place, startling Timothy nearly into shrieking, and we
two lads, clasping hands, went back amid the thicket where we could
talk without danger of being seen.
I was eager first to know why he had left Valley Forge when there was
so little he could do in Philadelphia, and so much of danger to be
encountered; but straightway learned that so far no information had
been taken to the American camp of Master Targe’s arrest, and indeed,
had I given the matter proper consideration, I would have understood
that there had not been time for any friend of the Cause, however
zealous, to have gained the American army.
Timothy had been sent by the Weaver of Germantown with a message to the
innkeeper, which was to the effect that he should meet the Weaver among
the ruined buildings of Germantown on the following morning; but for
what purpose, as a matter of course, the lad did not know.
Then it was I told my comrade of all which had occurred in the city,
and his face grew pale because of the danger to which I had been
exposed, though I dare venture to say he gave not a single thought to
the possibility that he himself was in the greater peril because of
Master Targe’s having been taken into custody.
Of course there was now no reason for Timothy to continue on. He could
not come upon the innkeeper save he was carried into prison under
arrest, and it appeared to both of us as of the highest consequence
that information concerning the trouble be taken to Valley Forge
without delay.
Having arrived at this decision we set off at once, and had walked
well-nigh to two miles before realizing that if the Weaver of
Germantown kept the appointment he would have supposed to be made
with Master Targe, then might we pass him in the night, for it was
reasonable to believe he would leave Valley Forge before sunset.
Therefore I said to Timothy that we might save ourselves both labor and
time by halting at Germantown, and waiting there for the coming of the
man who was doing so much, as a spy, in aid of the Cause.
When we had decided that this would be the proper course, then came the
thought that we might not be able to find the Weaver, because it was
likely he had some hiding place there, and we could come upon him only
by merest chance.
However, it seemed necessary we should strive to get this chance, since
there was but little question that if we kept on to Valley Forge during
the hours of darkness we would be likely to pass him on the road, and
thus he be allowed to run into danger without knowing what awaited him
since the arrest of Master Targe.
In this case fortune favoured us Minute Boys as it seemed she had since
the first day we agreed to do whatsoever we might in behalf of the
Cause.
We were hardly more than come to Germantown, and were roaming around
amid the half-burned buildings trying to decide where we would seek a
shelter, when we came full upon the man we were seeking.
It appeared, as we learned afterward, that he had been securely
hidden in a snug place well-known to himself, and saw us approach that
building where we were so nearly burned to death, therefore came out to
greet us.
In the fewest words possible, I told him of all that had happened in
Philadelphia since I arrived there.
To my great surprise he did not appear deeply concerned regarding the
matter. I had supposed he would at least show some signs of grief
because Master Targe was in peril of his life, and instead he said
quietly and in a matter-of-fact tone:
“Then we must make the move so much the sooner, and depend upon others
for information.”
As a matter of course, I supposed he meant that it would be necessary
to depend upon someone for further information from Philadelphia,
therefore was more than astonished when he said, as if fancying we
understood the entire situation:
“There is no longer any reason why we linger here. I had best retrace
my steps, and you shall come with me. Although the British are not
overly fond of loitering around the ruins which they themselves have
made, it will be better if we put a greater distance between them and
us.”
“Meaning that you will go where, sir?” Timothy asked, and the Weaver
of Germantown replied as if surprised because such a question was
necessary:
“To Valley Forge, as a matter of course. There we will make our
preparations for the next step, and the work cannot be pushed forward
any too quickly, for, unless all signs fail us, General Clinton will
make a movement of some kind right speedily.”
“General Clinton, sir?” I asked.
“Ay, lad. Do you not know that he has taken over the command of the
British forces in Philadelphia?”
I had heard somewhat of the kind, and yet gave no particular heed to
the fact. It mattered little to us rebels, as I believed, who held
command of the lobster-backs, so that it was one of the king’s officers
who would do whatsoever he might toward working us an injury.
Without waiting for further conversation the Weaver of Germantown set
off at a rapid pace in the direction of Valley Forge, and we lads
followed perforce, since there was nothing else for us except to seek
refuge with those who would do what they might toward saving us from
the enemy.
By this time I was beginning to know thoroughly well the trail
between the headquarters of the American army, and our captive city
of Philadelphia. It was to me as if I had spent half a lifetime doing
nothing more than walking to and fro between these two points, and now
I followed my leader in a listless manner.
It seemed to me that I no longer had any part or parcel in this work
of aiding the colonies, for surely I could not venture into the city
again without being taken into custody, and therefore had my time of
usefulness as a spy come to an end.
If we Minute Boys were to continue striving to do something in behalf
of our distressed country, then must we enlist as soldiers, despite
the fact that we were not of the required age, and I welcomed such a
possibility, for the trade of a spy was not pleasing to me.
I felt that it would be much more manly to stand up bravely as a
soldier, face to face with the enemy, rather than sneaking here and
there under cover of darkness, hiding at the approach of either friend
or foe, even though by such work I succeeded in doing somewhat of
consequence in behalf of those who were struggling to win for us our
freedom.
“If all things go well, we will leave camp again early to-morrow
morning,” the Weaver of Germantown suddenly said after we had travelled
mayhap a couple of miles, and I asked in amazement:
“If we are to leave the camp so soon, sir, why do we go there at all?”
“Because it is not to be expected we can do this work single-handed.
Already have I been promised a squad of forty men, and with them I dare
venture to say we can accomplish our purpose.”
I was more in the dark than before, and that Timothy was also blinded I
understood when he asked impatiently:
“What may be our purpose?”
“To rescue those of our people who have been taken prisoners,” was the
reply.
“Do you count, sir, on making an attack upon Philadelphia with forty
men?” I cried in bewilderment, whereupon the Weaver of Germantown
laughed as he replied:
“If all the information which has been gained be correct, there will
be no need of our making an attack on Philadelphia if so be we would
release our friends who are in custody. There can be no question
whatsoever but that General Clinton counts on evacuating the city
within a very short time, and he will endeavour to do so before our
people can get word as to his movements. Already, it is said, he has
begun sending the heaviest of his baggage across the river, and
yesterday word was brought that orders had been given Cunningham to
forward such prisoners as had not yet had a trial, with the next
baggage-train that started out. Now it stands to reason such time
will come speedily, and I am counting on giving the lobster-backs who
accompany it the surprise of their lives.”
“With forty men, sir?” Timothy asked quickly, and the Weaver of
Germantown looked at the lad indulgently as he replied:
“More cannot well be spared. If the business is not to be done with
forty, then I question whether two hundred would accomplish it, and it
were better the smaller number sacrificed their lives, than the larger.”
“How many men, sir, do you count would be sent to guard a
baggage-train?” Timothy asked thoughtfully.
“Mayhap an hundred. I question if very many more, for the teamsters
could be counted on to take a hand in the defence of the goods if so be
the train was attacked.”
“And with the teamsters the force would amount to more than an
hundred,” Timothy said as if speaking to himself, whereupon the Weaver
of Germantown replied cheerily:
“Make it in round numbers an hundred fifty, and we count on reducing
that strength very considerably by giving them a surprise.”
“Shall you carry out such a plan, sir, before knowing absolutely
whether the prisoners are with the baggage-train or not?” I asked, and
the reply came sharply, in token that I should have had better sense
than to raise such a question:
“We shall know before the train starts whether our people will
accompany it or not, even though the Minute Boys of Philadelphia are
laid off from duty temporarily,” he added with a smile. “We still have
friends in the city who can get information as to what may be going on.”
After this reply, which was much like a reproof, I held my peace, and
we three trudged on toward Valley Forge, I saying again and again to
myself that verily were we rebels come to desperate straits when we
counted on attacking a force of an hundred fifty men with only forty,
and figuring meanwhile that it were better only so small a number
should be killed, much as if their destruction were almost certain.
Only a few moments previous I had been saying to myself that it would
be nobler for us lads to act as soldiers, being regularly enrolled in
the army, and stand face to face with the enemy, rather than playing
the spy, and yet, now that there was in the near future an action in
which I might take part, my heart grew timorous.
The odds seemed so great, even though we might surprise this train,
that I felt confident the scheme could not succeed; but believed all
who had part in it must meet with death.
Then again, there were many chances against our rescuing the prisoners
even though we held our own with those who guarded the train.
It might be possible a squad of forty men could surprise and drive back
an hundred fifty; but to so disable that number as to be able to go
into their very midst and take out prisoners, who would unquestionably
be closely guarded, was a proposition which seemed to me so wild as to
be almost ridiculous.
CHAPTER XVI
THE ATTACK
And now because I am come so nearly to the time when I must cease
setting down what we lads did--cease because we no longer hold
ourselves as Minute Boys, but have become full-fledged soldiers in
the American army,--it is necessary I hasten over events upon which I
would dearly love to linger, for there is to me a world of satisfaction
in going once more over those times when we put the lobster-backs to
confusion, even though they outnumbered us three or four to one.
The Weaver of Germantown lost no time on the journey. He increased his
pace as the moments wore on, showing that he was in haste to set about
the plan which he had in mind, and there were moments when we lads were
literally forced to run in order to hold our own with him.
It was night when we arrived at Valley Forge, and his first care was to
lead us to that hut where our comrades were sleeping, after which he
took his leave, and we saw no more of him until the following morning.
There is little need for me to say that young Chris and Sam were
thoroughly astonished when we awakened them, for both believed we were
lying at the Jolly Tar inn secure from all danger.
In my turn I was surprised because of failing to see anything of
Skinny, and the first question I asked was concerning him.
Then young Chris told us that the prisoner had been taken from them
and was confined in the guard-house as a spy, although it was hardly
probable such charge would hold against him if he should be brought to
trial.
Believing he would not be wholly safe in the custody of the Minute
Boys, and knowing that it would be in his power to carry much valuable
information to the lobster-backs if he succeeded in making his escape,
the leaders of the army had taken charge of him, and, as Sam said, we
were well rid of the sneaking cur.
Both the lads were filled with fear and apprehension when I told them
of what had taken place in the city, and you may well fancy that we
were not inclined to close our eyes in slumber during all that night,
for we speculated vainly as to what would be the result in case the
Weaver of Germantown carried out his bold plans.
Although we had had good proof of what our people could do, there
was never one of us who believed that an attack upon a baggage-train
guarded by at least an hundred lobster-backs, when our force was to
number only forty, could succeed, and before the morning came we, in
our ignorance and lack of faith, had set it down as a fact that those
who went out with the hope of releasing our people from the hands of
the Britishers, would come back to us no more in this world.
It was yet reasonably early in the forenoon when the Weaver of
Germantown came to the hut where, having breakfasted, we were sitting
idly together discussing this possibility or that as if we were old and
well versed in warfare.
“If you lads are minded to come with me, then will I show you that
which will warm your hearts in the years to come, when you look back
upon it,” the Weaver said, and I asked if his men were ready for the
venture.
“We shall set off within the hour,” he replied; “but you need not
consider it your duty to come with us. I am free to confess that there
must of necessity be much of danger in the enterprise, and perhaps it
would be well if you boys were to remain here until the work has been
done, or we have failed.”
He could have said nothing else which would have aroused us so
thoroughly as did this intimation that we might be afraid to go with
the soldiers, or would be willing to remain at Valley Forge simply
because we might otherwise come to grief.
I was not alone when I said stoutly, although there was a sinking at my
heart which I could not prevent, that I for one would follow him, and
my comrades were equally determined.
All the preparations had been made, as we learned a few moments later,
and it was only necessary for us to fall in line at the rear of the
squad.
Then was begun the march, we heading straight away for the Delaware,
counting to cross that river and lie in hiding somewhere nearabout
Camden until the baggage-train should have crossed.
All this we did and without adventure, because of the caution which was
exercised by our leader, who, as a matter of course, was the Weaver
of Germantown himself. He, knowing thoroughly well all the country
roundabout, led us at the expense of many a weary mile far out of all
possible danger of encountering the enemy, and to a point on the river
where were boats ready to carry us across, thus showing that he had
made his preparations for this venture some time before.
During that day and all the night we marched, save while crossing
the river, or when we halted five or ten minutes at a time, and when
finally he gave the word that we were come to our journey’s end, we
Minute Boys were so nearly exhausted that we flung ourselves down
wheresoever we chanced to be and speedily fell asleep, not awakening
again until the word had been passed from man to man that the moment
for action was near at hand.
It appeared, so we learned later, that if our departure from Valley
Forge had been postponed no more than six hours, then would we have
come too late to effect that for which we hoped.
The baggage-train had already been sent across the river near to
Gloucester Point, and within two hours after we had come to the end of
our march and were bivouacked in the thicket, the Britishers set off,
counting to gain New York without interference from our people, because
their movements had been shrouded with so much of secrecy.
Exactly what took place from the time we were awakened until a
veritable battle was begun, I can say very little, because of knowing
comparatively nothing.
There was much moving to and fro among our squad, and frequent
whispered consultations with the Weaver of Germantown as we marched up
the road to where an ambush was to be formed; but we lads knew nothing
whatsoever concerning the purport of this talk.
We only understood that an action was near at hand when we were
posted on either side the road in two companies of twenty each, and
then it was we had evidence of the thoughtfulness of this Weaver of
Germantown, for he brought to each of us lads a musket and ammunition,
saying that we were to obey orders so far as firing and re-loading were
concerned, the same as would the men.
When I asked how it was we had not been armed before leaving Valley
Forge, he replied that the march before us he knew to be a hard one,
and, fearing lest we might fall by the wayside with fatigue, had had
these weapons carried by some of the men to spare us so much of labour.
If anything had been needed to hearten us in the work to be performed,
this evidence of his kindliness would have been sufficient.
When he had ceased speaking all the timorousness was fled from my
heart, and, lad though I was, I felt myself capable of holding my own
against half a dozen lobster-backs, although I dare venture to say I
would have cut a sorry figure even if opposed to no more than two.
It was about seven o’clock in the morning when we concealed ourselves
in ambush along the road. Two hours later I could see, through the
foliage, the advance of a long train, consisting of no less than twelve
heavily-laden wagons each drawn by four horses, and preceded by a party
of men in red uniforms to the number of perhaps fifty.
Then as the train advanced, I saw an equal force in the rear of the
wagons, and understood that the Weaver of Germantown had not been
misinformed when he was told that a guard of nearabout an hundred would
be sent out.
In addition to these soldiers who marched, there were two men on the
seat of each wagon, therefore, as I hurriedly estimated the force, we
would oppose ourselves to no less than an hundred twenty--perhaps a
dozen more.
Although I had felt so bold when the Weaver of Germantown put the
weapon into my hands, now it was that my heart thumped until it surely
seemed that those who were advancing would be alarmed by the noise, and
my tongue had suddenly grown dry as I tried in vain to moisten my lips.
Fortunately for me, however, we had but little time, after the first
appearance of the train, before the work was begun.
In my ignorance I had believed that the full number of wagons would
be allowed to go by, and we fall upon the rear guard, where I fancied
were the prisoners, if so be there were any with the train. Instead of
which, when the first of the lobster-backs were opposite our place of
hiding the word was passed from man to man, that when the Weaver of
Germantown sprang out into the open we were to discharge our weapons,
having due regard to aim.
Then, before I could have counted ten, this man who had played the spy
in Philadelphia, came out from amid the foliage as if courting death,
and shouting to us who were concealed to take good care that every
bullet found its billet.
At the same instant, even before the lobster-backs fully understood
what the Weaver of Germantown was saying, came the order to open fire.
Strange as it may seem, I have no knowledge whatsoever concerning that
action, save such as was told me later. It seemed as if with the report
of the muskets I lost all consciousness of self. I suddenly became one
who thirsted for blood, and had forgotten that death might be dealt by
those who were in front of me.
There is in my mind a dim recollection that I loaded and fired,
re-loaded and fired again, continuing to do so until the barrel of my
musket became heated, and once I believed I heard someone say that the
rear guard had come up--that the prisoners were being driven back by
the teamsters.
I knew the horses were plunging about; that there were what looked to
be blotches of red on the dusty earth, yet hardly understood that those
crimson stains upon the yellow road was the life blood of the poor
wretches who had come from overseas, without personal reason, to whip
us colonists into subjection.
I was in a fever; consumed by the desire to add to those red, sprawling
figures that lay stretched out in the dust.
My mouth was dry; everything swam before me; the trees opposite seemed
to dance, and to have taken on a reddish hue, while before my eyes as I
loaded the musket, it appeared as if both powder and ball had suddenly
become scarlet.
The hue of blood was everywhere; the thirst to kill was overwhelming,
and during such time as the action continued I was literally insane.
Then came the time when one of our men seized the musket from my hands,
saying angrily as he flung me back toward the trees, that I should
control myself better than to fire upon those who had surrendered.
Whereupon I dully asked if the engagement was over, and someone from a
distance, as it seemed to me, replied with a cheer:
“Ay, lad, over, and with the lobster-backs surrendering like chickens
crowding around a dough-trough!”
“And the prisoners?” I cried, now suddenly coming to my senses, and
realizing for what purpose we had spilled so much of human blood as I
could see before me.
“Look yonder!” Timothy Bowers shouted, and only then did I know that
he had been by my side during all the fight; but in after days, when I
questioned him concerning it, he could tell me no more than I myself
knew.
Having become once more Richard Salter, instead of the crazy lad who
was doing his part as a soldier unconsciously, I ran to the rear where
was a throng of wretched looking men bound by the hands to a long
rope extending from the rear of one of the wagons; but before I got
there the Weaver of Germantown, who was just ahead of me, had cut the
foremost loose from their bonds, and I clasped Jeremy by the neck, so
overjoyed as not really to be able to utter the words that were in my
mind.
There was good reason why we should rejoice, for had we not beaten the
lobster-backs when they outnumbered us exactly three to one?
Yet there was no time for us to spend in words, since who could say
that the noise of the attack might not have been heard by the enemy at
Camden, and if we would save our skins after having won such a victory,
then was it necessary to get away from there without delay.
It had been the purpose of the Weaver of Germantown not only to
release the prisoners; but to capture the train for the benefit of the
Continental army, and therefore it was we took up the line of march
immediately, the British teamsters obeying the Weaver’s orders for the
very good reason that they dared not do otherwise.
We had won a great victory, but in the doing of it had lost five of our
men who were killed outright, and four others badly wounded.
Singularly enough, none of us lads had been injured, although, as we
were told afterward, we had conducted ourselves bravely. In fact, the
Weaver himself said we had won the right to be called soldiers, and
that it should be his care to see we were given an opportunity to
enlist.
Now, if you can believe me, we had not only set free Master Targe and
Jeremy; but nine others beside, all of whom were to have been tried for
various acts of so-called treason when General Clinton had got his army
to some safer point than he believed was to be found in Philadelphia.
In addition to this, after four days of hard work we actually entered
Valley Forge with the same heavy baggage-train of General Clinton’s,
which had been sent away from Philadelphia early so there might be no
possibility of its falling into our hands.
We well-nigh came to grief while crossing the Delaware in boats which
were not large enough to freight the wagons safely; but by dint of
transferring the cargoes, or, in other words, making two trips for each
load, we succeeded in gaining the Pennsylvania shore safe and sound.
It seemed to me that we were hardly more than in camp and rested from
our exertions, when came the news that General Clinton had actually
begun the evacuation of Philadelphia, and then there was so much of
seeming confusion that one found it hard to keep his wits about him.
It was General Washington’s purpose to follow the lobster-backs on
their march to New York, and no time was to be lost in setting out
after we learned that the Britishers were really on the road.
Then was the time when the Weaver of Germantown found opportunity to
fulfil his promise to us, and we lads, who a few weeks before had
agreed to call ourselves Minute Boys of Philadelphia, were allowed to
sign the rolls in due form and become soldiers of the Continental army,
being admitted to the ranks by order of the commander-in-chief himself,
whose permission was necessary because we were not yet come to the age
of men.
Thus it was that we lads who had done some little work for the Cause,
were allowed to stand shoulder to shoulder during that battle at
Monmouth, when General Clinton and his swaggering British officers came
to know full well of what stuff our rag-tag and bobtail of an army was
made.
It was after this battle, when we were ministering to the wounds of the
Weaver of Germantown, who had stood in the ranks all the day fighting
most valiantly, that we learned why he had never called himself by any
given name during such time as we had known him.
It was because he belonged to the sect called Friends, who, as you
know, are opposed to fighting, and many of whom were unfriendly to the
Cause. Were I to write his name, which we learned there on that bloody
ground, then you would know that not only he, but those nearest and
dearest to him, regardless of the fact that their faith bound them to
shun warfare, had done very much to aid the colonies in their struggle
against the king.
It was the Weaver himself, in later days, who told us lads, that
although the work which we did in Philadelphia might not have seemed
of great value, he believed the commander-in-chief would ever remember
what had been done by the Minute Boys of Philadelphia.
THE END
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.
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