Part 15

But Washington did not linger there long. Suspecting that Howe's next attempt would be to seize New York, and fearing lest he might have gone there straight from Boston, Washington soon hurried away. Just before he left the city, a British ship, laden with powder, sailed into the harbor, as its captain thought the British were still there. Its cargo was quickly seized, and provided the American army with seven times more powder than they had been able to secure by any other means.

About three months later a second British fleet, under Clinton, suddenly appeared off Charleston, where it began bombarding Fort Moultrie (moo´trī). The governor of Charleston having sent word to the general, "Keep cool and do mischief," the fire was promptly returned. Besides, the British were greatly dismayed to see their cannon balls burying themselves harmlessly in the soft palmetto logs and the big sand heaps of which the fort was composed. But the balls from the fort crippled the British vessels so badly that they had to sail away again without taking possession of Charleston.

In the midst of this battle, a British cannon ball cut Fort Moultrie's flagstaff in two, and brought down the flag. The enemy cheered loudly at this lucky shot; but a sergeant named Jasper quickly jumped over the parapet, caught up the fallen flag, and set it up again, notwithstanding the hail of bullets falling around him; so that it was now the Americans' turn to raise a cheer of triumph. In reward for his daring action, Jasper was offered the rank of lieutenant; but as he could neither read nor write, he sadly refused it, saying: "I am not fit for the company of officers."

LXVI. DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE.

In June, 1776, Richard Henry Lee brought into Congress a resolution "that these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent States." This was now the opinion of the principal men in our country, and Washington wrote: "When I took command of the army, I abhorred the idea of independence; now I am convinced nothing else will save us."

The minds of the people having been prepared for the change by a little pamphlet called "Common Sense," Congress appointed five men to draw up a Declaration of Independence. These five men were Thomas Jef´fer-son, Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, Roger Sherman, and Robert Liv´ing-ston; but as the paper, with the exception of a few words, is the work of Jefferson, he is generally called the "Father of the Declaration of Independence."

On July 4, 1776, this paper was adopted by Congress, after hours of discussion. In the meantime, crowds of people were anxiously waiting in the street in front of the old statehouse in Philadelphia to hear the decision of the Congress. A story says that the old bell ringer was at his post, ready to proclaim the glad news as soon as he received the signal from a grandson stationed below But time seemed so long to the old man that he muttered again and again: "They'll never do it." All at once, however, a little lad darted out of the statehouse, clapping his hands and shouting: "Ring, grandpa! Ring!"

Then the Independence Bell, which, strange to relate, bore the inscription, "Proclaim liberty throughout all the land unto all the inhabitants thereof," pealed out loud and clear, announcing the birth of the United States of America! All the other bells took up the joyful strain, and the news, flying from place to place, was welcomed everywhere.

John Hancock, president of Congress, was the first to sign the Declaration of Independence, writing his name in large, plain letters, and saying: "There; John Bull can read my name without spectacles. Now let him double the price on my head, for this is my defiance." Then he turned to the other members, and solemnly added: "We must be unanimous [of one mind]; there must be no pulling different ways; we must all hang together."

"Yes," said Franklin, quaintly: "we must all hang together, or most assuredly we shall all hang separately."

We are told that Charles Carroll, thinking his writing looked shaky, added the words "of Carrollton," so that the king should not be able to make any mistake as to whose name stood there.

Copies of the Declaration of Independence were promptly sent to every colony, where it was solemnly read. In Pennsylvania this reading took place in the yard in front of the statehouse, which has ever since then been known as Independence Hall. It was there that the Liberty Bell hung, and pealed out the happy news. When the tidings reached New York, they were joyfully received by the army, and the Sons of Liberty pulled down King George's leaden statue. They later sent it to Connecticut, where patriot women broke it up and melted it to make bullets for the army.

At the same time, fault began to be found with the name of King's College, which had been established in New York over twenty years. But nothing was done till after the war, when the name was changed to Columbia College.

In the summer of 1776 Howe came into New York Bay with twenty-five thousand men, and soon after landed on Stat´en Island. In coming to New York, Howe was carrying out part of a great plan which had been made to separate the southern from the New England colonies. To do this, he was to march up the Hudson, while Carleton came south from Canada by way of Lake Champlain.

This plan was, as you see, very cleverly laid; but it was not so easy to carry out as the British expected. Although Carleton marched south and won a victory over Arnold at Valcour (val-coor´) Island, in Lake Champlain, it was at such a cost that he soon retreated in haste, instead of pressing on.

Soon after General Howe reached New York Bay, his brother, Lord Howe, made a proclamation offering pardon to all who would lay down their arms and promise to obey the king. Next, he sent an officer to the American camp, with this proclamation in a letter addressed to "George Washington, Esq." Washington, knowing that he must uphold the dignity of his country, rightly refused to receive any letter addressed to him as a private citizen. He said that George Washington, the Virginia planter, would not be at home to receive letters until the war was over, and that the general in chief of the American army could not receive any letters unless they bore the proper address.

Lord Howe now sent a second missive, addressed to "George Washington, Esq., etc., etc.;" but Washington also refused that. Seeing that the American general would not yield, Lord Howe ever after sent his letters properly directed, although he hated to do so, because it seemed to acknowledge the new government.

We are told that it was sometime during Washington's sojourn in New York that the British bribed a man to throw poison into the general's dish of pease. But, thanks to the warning of a faithful servant, Washington, although very fond of them, did not eat any, and thus escaped death.

LXVII. A LADY'S WAY OF HELPING.

While Washington was in New York, Putnam had charge of the troops on Long Island. Here General Howe suddenly came upon him with such a large force that Putnam was beaten and forced to retreat. Washington, who saw the battle of Long Island from a distance, is reported to have wrung his hands, and to have cried, with tears running down his cheeks: "My God! what brave fellows I must lose this day!"

At nightfall, the Americans were intrenched on Brooklyn Heights, where Howe planned to take the "nest of rebels" by siege. But, thanks to a fog which rose over the bay, Washington cleverly and noiselessly drew off these troops, and when the sun rose on the second day, Howe found that the Americans were all on the other side of the East River. Knowing that Howe would pursue him, and not wishing to expose New York city to the enemy's cannon, Washington began to retreat up the Hudson.

While part of the British army landed near the Battery, the rest, under Howe himself, crossed the East River higher up, so as to cut off the retreat of the Americans under Putnam. To prevent this, Washington stationed troops at the landing at Kips Bay (where East Thirty-fourth Street now ends), bidding them hold the British at bay long enough to enable Putnam to retreat. But the Americans fled at the first fire, although Washington tried to stop them. In his rage and despair over their cowardice, Washington is said to have flung his hat on the ground, and bitterly cried: "Are these the men with whom I am to defend America?"

Still, one man could not hold an army in check; so Washington rode northward, sending word to Putnam to hurry, and begging Mrs. Murray, a lady living on a hill near by, to use her woman's wit to detain the enemy. Mrs. Murray bade her servants prepare refreshments, and when General Howe rode past her gate, she stepped out to invite him into her house.

It was a very warm day, the house looked cool and inviting, and Howe accepted, thinking a few moments' delay would not do any harm. But the ladies proved so entertaining, and the food they set before the officers so welcome, that instead of staying only a few moments, they lingered there several hours. Finally a servant came in and whispered something to Mrs. Murray, who, rising from her seat, begged Howe to accompany her to see something which she thought might interest him.

We are told that she then led the British general to an upper window, and pointed out Putnam's army vanishing in the dim distance. The delay had enabled the Americans to escape to a point higher up, where they still held Forts Lee and Washington, on either side of the river.

While the battle of Long Island was raging, Washington, needing information, sent Nathan Hale, a Yale graduate, into the British ranks. This brave youth was betrayed by a former friend, and the British, having taken him captive, condemned him to be hanged as a spy. This was no more than the young man expected; but they cruelly refused him a Bible or a minister to prepare for death.

We are told that even his last letters to his mother and betrothed were torn to pieces before his eyes, as they dragged him off to the gallows. But as the young patriot stood there, surrounded by foes, he firmly said: "I regret only that I have but one life to lose for my country." These noble words are carved on the pedestal of his statue, which now stands in one of the principal squares of New York city.

Howe and Clinton were now both in New York, where they were warmly welcomed by a few persons who were still faithful to King George. But as they had failed to secure the American army, they soon set out to pursue Washington, who slowly retreated before them.

Washington did not try to do more than check their advance, because he knew their ships could sail up the Hudson, across which he had vainly tried to make a barrier by sinking some old ships. Step by step, therefore, Washington withdrew until he came to White Plains. There a battle was fought; but, while the Americans were defeated, the British retreated on the next day, rather than renew the fight and lose more men.

Washington had left General Nathanael Greene in charge of Fort Washington, telling him to forsake it rather than run any risk of losing his troops. But Greene thought it would be safe to remain there awhile longer. Unfortunately, however, a traitor gave General Howe the plans of the place, thus enabling him to surprise and capture Fort Washington, together with three thousand men.

These soldiers, like many other American prisoners, were sent on board a rotting ship in New York harbor, where, in the course of the Revolutionary War, more than eleven thousand men died from bad food, bad water, and bad air. These victims of British cruelty were first buried in the mud at low tide, but their remains now rest in Washington Park, Brooklyn. A memorial monument has also been erected in their honor in Trinity Church, bearing the inscription: "To those great and good men who died while imprisoned in this city, for their devotion to the cause of American Independence." This honor was well deserved, for soldiers who die of disease or in captivity are just as likely to be heroes as those who fall on the battlefield.

Washington, seeing his fort taken, now went to Hack´en-sack, sending orders to General Charles Lee to cross the Hudson and join him in New Jersey. But instead of obeying promptly, Lee delayed so long that, as you will soon see, he hampered Washington greatly. The British, in the meantime, crossed the river, and Greene was obliged to leave Fort Lee in hot haste. Indeed, the enemy were so near that they found the soup pots still boiling on the fire, and merrily ate the dinner which was to have been served for the Americans.

Still faithful to his plan to worry and check the British, without meeting them in open battle, Washington now slowly retreated across New Jersey. We are told that he often left a place as the enemy came in; and because he thus imitated the tactics of a Roman general, you will often hear him called the "American Fā´bi-us."

Corn-wal´lis, the British general now in charge, pursued the Americans as fast as he could, in order to force them to meet him in pitched battles. But while the armies were often close enough to hear the music of each other's bands, and there were many small skirmishes, no real battle took place.

In one of these small engagements the wads used in loading the guns gave out. The chaplain of the regiment, who hated the British because they had cruelly shot his wife and baby, rushed into a church, tore up some hymn books, and, carrying the leaves to the soldiers for wads, said: "Give 'em Watts, boys! Give 'em Watts!"

LXVIII. CHRISTMAS EVE.

While retreating before Cornwallis, Washington kept sending stern orders to Lee to hasten and join him, so that their combined forces could be used against the British. But Lee did not obey, and came on very slowly. Indeed, he said freely that he did not consider Washington a good general, and often boasted that if _he_ were only at the head of the army the war would soon be over.

Lee was in a little inn in New Jersey, writing a letter to General Gates expressing his opinion of Washington, when he was suddenly surrounded by the British and made a prisoner. Without giving him time to change his dressing-gown and slippers, or get into his uniform, the British bore him off in triumph, thinking they had taken the most clever of all the American generals. But Lee was really no loss, and his army, having fortunately gone on ahead, joined Washington sooner without a general than it would have done had Lee been there.

Many of the Americans now fancied, like the British, that since Lee was a prisoner their mainstay was gone. Besides, the British began to threaten to illtreat Lee, and as the Americans held no British generals as prisoners, they could not offer an exchange. Knowing this, a Rhode Island officer named Barton made a bold plan.

He had heard that the British General Prescott was quartered on the seashore not very far from Newport. Taking a party of forty brave seamen and soldiers, he rowed with muffled oars right through the British fleet, one dark night. Then a sentinel was noiselessly killed, and the small force surrounded the house where Prescott lay asleep. A moment later the Americans burst into his bedroom, bore him off half clothed to their boats, and, rowing away in safety, sent word to the British that Prescott should receive just the same treatment that they gave Lee. Nine months later an exchange was made, and Lee and Prescott went back to their posts (1778).

In the meantime Washington still avoided a battle, and retreated to the Delaware. There, having cleverly secured every boat within a hundred miles, he took his army over the river. When the British came up, not a single boat was to be had; so they camped near the stream, thinking it would soon freeze hard enough to allow them to cross on the ice and seize Philadelphia.

This was a time of great trial for the Americans, and Washington was the only man who did not despair. Still, the British had set a price upon his head, and were loudly boasting that they would soon hang him. Speaking of this, Washington once told his friend Joseph Reed: "My neck does not feel as though it were made for a halter." Then he added that if things came to the worst they would have to retreat into Virginia, or even over the Alleghanies, but that they must never give up the struggle they had begun.

Congress, fearing the British would carry out their plan and seize Philadelphia, now hastily withdrew to Baltimore. But before leaving, Samuel Adams wrote: "Let America exert her own strength, and He who cannot be indifferent to her righteous cause will even work miracles, if necessary, to establish her feet upon a rock."

Washington, as we have seen, was very prudent; but he was not lacking in courage. Seeing that the British forces were scattered, he now thought it a fine chance to win a victory, which would rekindle the ardor of his men and give new courage to all the nation.

He therefore planned to surprise the Hessians at Trenton by crossing the river, in spite of huge cakes of floating ice which nearly blocked it. Marblehead fishermen were put in charge of the boats, and such was their skill and daring that they took twenty-four hundred men safely over. This crossing of the Delaware on Christmas night (1776) was one of the most daring feats ever performed. Besides, the men were only half clad, and so badly shod that they left bloody footprints in the snow; and the cold was so intense that night, that two of their number were actually frozen to death.

In spite of drifting snow and driving wind, Washington's force marched bravely on, and surprised the Hessians at Trenton. The wounded commander, Rahl, was forced to surrender, and his whole army was seized. We are told that the Hessian soldiers had been so busy keeping Christmas that they were all half drunk, and that Rahl himself was too absorbed in a game of cards to read a note sent to warn him of his peril. Thinking it a matter of no importance, he thrust it into his pocket unread, and thus he and his men fell into Washington's hands.

The news of the victory of Trenton filled the hearts of the Americans with great joy, but it proved a bitter disappointment to Cornwallis. Fancying the war all over, he had packed his trunks and gone on board a vessel to return to England. But now General Howe sent him back in haste to Trenton to fight Washington. Hedged in between a river full of floating ice and a large army, it now seemed as if Washington could not escape.

One evening, therefore, Cornwallis gleefully told one of his officers that they would "bag the old fox" on the next day. The officer suggested that it might be better not to postpone it till the morrow; but Cornwallis answered that this time the Americans could not escape. That same night, however, Washington took advantage of the fact that the roads froze hard enough to enable him to remove his cannon, and slipped away by back roads, leaving his camp fires burning brightly so as to deceive the enemy. When the British awoke the next morning, the "old fox" was gone, and sounds of firing in the direction of Prince´ton soon convinced them that a battle must be going on there.

Running into Cornwallis's tent, an officer roused him, crying: "To arms, general! Washington has outgeneraled us. Let us fly to the rescue of Princeton!" But, notwithstanding all their haste, they reached Princeton only after the battle--on the present college grounds--was all over, and the victorious Washington had safely advanced to Mor´ris-town Heights. This campaign, in the dead of winter, was so wonderful that it won for Washington the title of "Savior of his Country," and Frederick the Great of Prussia once said that it was the most brilliant piece of generalship in the pages of history.

LXIX. THE FIGHT AT BENNINGTON.

While Washington was spending the rest of the winter at Morristown, the news of his triumphs reached France. Franklin had been sent there, in 1776, to secure help, if possible. His reputation as a man of science, his great talents, and his affable manners made him a great favorite in Paris, where the fashionable ladies and gentlemen carried fans and snuffboxes decorated with his portrait. But although both king and queen received Franklin very graciously, they would not at first promise him any aid.

A young French nobleman named La-fā-yette´, longing to help the Americans, now decided to leave his young wife and home. But as the king forbade him to leave court, he secretly embarked upon a vessel he fitted out himself, and crossed the Atlantic. Then, as soon as he landed, he went straight to Congress and offered to serve the United States without pay. A few days later he met Washington, whose helper he became, and who soon learned to love him as dearly as if he had been his own son.

Several other illustrious foreigners came in the same way to fight for America and freedom. The bravest among them were the Germans De Kalb´ and Steu´ben, and the Poles Pu-las´kĭ and Kos-ci-us´ko. It is said that when Kosciusko first presented himself, and was asked what he could do, he briefly answered: "Try me." This reply so pleased Washington that he made the young man his aid-de-camp.

Washington's victories at Trenton and Princeton, and his return toward New York, could not divert Howe from his purpose to secure Philadelphia. When summer came on, therefore, he set out with his fleet to take that city. Washington began retracing his steps, and, knowing that Howe could not sail up the Delaware,--which was defended by forts,--went to meet him at Chadds Ford on the Bran´dy-wine (1777). Here a battle was fought, and not only were the Americans defeated, but Lafayette was sorely wounded.

Although beaten, Washington's army retreated in good order to Philadelphia, which was soon taken by Howe and the British forces. Hoping to drive them away, Washington surprised them, one morning, at Germantown. Here he would have won a brilliant victory, had not a dense fog made two divisions of his men shoot each other before they discovered their mistake, thus creating a panic.

As there was nothing to be gained by fighting with exhausted troops, Washington now withdrew, and before long went to Valley Forge for the winter. Meanwhile, Howe attacked the forts on either side of the Delaware River. One of these held out bravely for six days, refusing to surrender until it had been battered to pieces. Then, as one fort alone could not check the British fleet, the second surrendered also.

Hoping to damage some of the British vessels at Philadelphia, the patriots made rude torpedoes, which were placed inside of small kegs and sent floating down the river. One of these engines struck a cake of ice and exploded, and the British, thus warned of danger, shot at every floating object they saw, thus waging what has been called in fun the "Battle of the Kegs."