Chapter 11

"Though the distance of the Delaware was not great, they had now been twelve days on the road, and such was the vigilance and suspicion prevailing throughout the country, that they almost despaired of effecting their object. The conductor grew impatient, and Lee's companions, at least one of them, became ferocious. There was, as we have said, something unpleasant to him in the glances of this fellow towards him, which became more and more fierce as they went on; but it did not appear whether it was owing to circumstances, or actual suspicion. It so happened that, on the twelfth night, Lee was placed in a barn, while the rest of the party sheltered themselves in the cellar of a little stone church, where they could talk and act with more freedom; both because the solitude of the church was not often disturbed even on the Sabbath, and because even the proprietors did not know that illegal hands had added a cellar to the conveniences of the building.

"Here they were smoking pipes with great diligence, and, at intervals not distant, applying a huge canteen to their mouths, from which they drank with upturned faces, expressive of solemn satisfaction. While they were thus engaged, the short soldier asked them, in a careless way, if they knew whom they had in their party. The others started, and took their pipes from their mouths to ask him what he meant. 'I mean,' said he, 'that we are honoured with the company of Capt. Lee, of the rebel army. The rascal once punished me, and I never mistook my man when I had a debt of that kind to pay.'

"The others expressed their disgust at his ferocity, saying that if, as he said, their companion was an American officer, all they had to do was to watch him closely. As he had come among them uninvited, he must go with them to New York, and take the consequences; but meantime it was their interest not to seem to suspect him, otherwise he might give an alarm--whereas it was evidently his intention to go with them till they were ready to embark for New York. The other person persisted in saying that he would have his revenge with his own hand; upon which the conductor, drawing a pistol, declared to him that if he saw the least attempt to injure Capt. Lee, or any conduct which would lead him to suspect that his disguise was discovered, he would that moment shoot him through the head. The soldier put his hand upon his knife, with an ominous scowl upon his conductor; but he restrained himself.

"The next night they went on as usual, but the manner of their conductor showed that there was more danger than before; in fact, he explained to the party that they were now not far from the Delaware, and hoped to reach it before midnight. They occasionally heard the report of a musket, which seemed to indicate that some movement was going on in the country.

"When they came to the bank there were no traces of a boat on the waters. Their conductor stood still for a moment in dismay; but, recollecting himself, he said it was possible it might have been secured lower down the stream; and forgetting every thing else, he directed the larger soldier to accompany him. Giving a pistol to the other, he whispered, 'If the rebel officer attempts to betray us, shoot him; if not, you will not, for your own sake, make any noise to show where we are.' In the same instant they departed, and Lee was left alone with the ruffian.

"He had before suspected that the fellow knew him, and now doubts were changed to certainty at once. Dark as it was, it seemed as if fire flashed from his eye, now he felt that revenge was within his power. Lee was as brave as any officer in the army; but he was unarmed; and though he was strong, his adversary was still more powerful. While he stood, uncertain what to do, the fellow seemed enjoying the prospect of revenge, as he looked on him with a steady eye. Though the officer stood to appearance unmoved, the sweat rolled in heavy drops from his brow. Lee soon took his resolution, and sprang upon his adversary with the intention of wresting the pistol from his hand; but the other was upon his guard, and aimed with such precision that, had the pistol been charged with a bullet, that moment would have been his last. But it seemed that the conductor had trusted to the sight of his weapons to render them unnecessary, and had therefore only loaded them with powder. As it was, the shock threw Lee to the ground; but fortunately, as the fellow dropped the pistol, it fell where Lee reached it; and as his adversary stooped, and was drawing his knife from his bosom, Lee was able to give him a stunning blow. He immediately threw himself upon the assassin, and a long and bloody struggle began. They were so nearly matched in strength and advantage, that neither dared unclench his hold for the sake of grasping the knife. The blood gushed from their mouths, and the combat would have probably ended in favour of the assassin--when steps and voices were heard advancing, and they found themselves in the hands of a party of countrymen, who were armed for the occasion, and were scouring the banks of the river. They were forcibly torn apart, but so exhausted and breathless that neither could make an explanation; and they submitted quietly to their captors.

"The party of the armed countrymen, though they had succeeded in their attempt, and were sufficiently triumphant on the occasion, were sorely perplexed how to dispose of their prisoners. After some discussion, one of them proposed to throw the decision upon the wisdom of the nearest magistrate. They accordingly proceeded with their prisoners to his mansion, about two miles distant, and called upon him to rise and attend to business. A window was hastily thrown up, and the justice put forth his night-capped head, and with more wrath than became his dignity, ordered them off; and in requital for their calling him out of bed in the cold, generously wished them in the warmest place. However, resistance was vain: he was compelled to rise; and as soon as the prisoners were brought before him, he ordered them to be taken in irons to the prison at Philadelphia. Lee improved the opportunity to take the old gentleman aside, and told him who he was, and why he was thus disguised. The justice only interrupted him with the occasional inquiry, 'Most done?' When he had finished, the magistrate told him that his story was very well made, and told in a manner very creditable to his address; and that he should give it all the weight it seemed to require. And Lee's remonstrances were unavailing.

"As soon as they were fairly lodged in the prison, Lee prevailed on the jailor to carry a note to Gen. Lincoln, informing him of his condition. The general received it as he was dressing in the morning, and immediately sent one of his aids to the jail. That officer could not believe his eyes that he saw Capt. Lee. His uniform, worn-out when he assumed it, was now hanging in rags about him; and he had not been shaved for a fortnight. He wished, very naturally, to improve his appearance before presenting himself before the secretary of war; but the orders were peremptory to bring him as he was. The general loved a joke full well: his laughter was hardly exceeded by the report of his own cannon; and long and loud did he laugh that day.

"When Capt. Lee returned to Lancaster, he immediately attempted to retrace the ground; and so accurate, under all the unfavourable circumstances, had been his investigation, that he brought to justice fifteen persons who had aided the escape of British prisoners. It is hardly necessary to say, to you who know the fate of revolutionary officers, that he received, for his hazardous and effectual service, no reward whatever."

"A perilous adventure," observed Warner, as Kinnison concluded his narrative.

"It was," replied Davenport. "It seems rather strange how Capt. Lee could so disguise himself and impose upon the enemy. But he knew a thing or two more than common men, and I shouldn't wonder."

"The British had many useful friends in every part of the country, during the war, and were enabled to do many such deeds," remarked Colson.

"Fill up, my friends, another glass of ale, and drink the health of Capt. Lee!" added Hand, rising. The company filled their glasses and drank the toast. The veterans were not as deep drinkers as their young and vigorous friends, and therefore they merely sipped their ale and sat it aside.

GENERAL DANIEL MORGAN.

"Speaking of brave men," observed Colson, "I suppose there is not one of the company who will doubt the bravery of Gen. Morgan, the hero of so many fields."

"The man who does doubt it knows not what courage is," remarked Ransom, taking another sip of the ale.

"Well, I'm going to tell you something about his bravery," said Colson. "Men have different ideas of that particular thing."

"This 'thunderbolt of war,' this 'brave Morgan, who never knew fear,' was, in camp, often wicked and very profane, but never a disbeliever in religion. He testified that himself. In his latter years General Morgan professed religion, and united himself with the Presbyterian church in Winchester, Va., under the pastoral care of the Rev. Dr. Hill, who preached in that house some forty years, and may now be occasionally heard on Loudon Street, Winchester. His last days were passed in that town; and while sinking to the grave, he related to his minister the experience of his soul. 'People thought,' said he, 'that Daniel Morgan never prayed;'--'People said old Morgan never was afraid;'--'People did not know.' He then proceeded to relate in his blunt manner, among many other things, that the night they stormed Quebec, while waiting in the darkness and storm, with his men paraded, for the word 'to advance,' he felt unhappy; the enterprise appeared more than perilous; it seemed to him that nothing less than a miracle could bring them off safe from an encounter at such an amazing disadvantage. He stepped aside and kneeled by the side of a cannon--and then most fervently prayed that the Lord God Almighty would be his shield and defence, for nothing less than an almighty arm could protect him. He continued on his knees till the word passed along the line. He fully believed that his safety during that night of peril was from the interposition of God. Again, he said, about the battle of the Cowpens, which covered him with so much glory as a leader and a soldier--he had felt afraid to fight Tarleton with his numerous army flushed with success--and that he retreated as long as he could--till his men complained--and he could go no further. Drawing up his army in three lines, on the hill side; contemplating the scene--in the distance the glitter of the advancing enemy--he trembled for the fate of the day. Going to the woods in the rear, he kneeled in an old tree-top, and poured out a prayer to God for his army, and for himself, and for his country. With relieved spirits he returned to the lines, and in his rough manner cheered them for the fight; as he passed along, they answered him bravely. The terrible carnage that followed the deadly aim of his lines decided the victory. In a few moments Tarleton fled. 'Ah,' said he, 'people said old Morgan never feared;'--'they thought Morgan never prayed; they did not know;'--'old Morgan was often miserably afraid.' And if he had not been, in the circumstances of amazing responsibility in which he was placed, how could he have been brave?"

"We seldom hear of a man admitting that he was ever afraid," observed Hand. "But the man who never knew fear must be possessed of a small degree of intelligence and no sense of responsibility; neither of which are creditable. Great generals, and soldiers, in all ages, have boasted of their freedom from dread under all circumstances. But it is a mere boast. Fear is natural and useful, and I have ever observed that the man of most fear is the man of most prudence and forecast."

"Do you mean to say that the coward is the wisest man?" enquired Kinnison, in astonishment.

"Oh, no. A coward is one who will not grapple with danger when he meets it, but shrinks and flies. A man who is conscious of dangers to be met, and feels a distrust of his own power to meet them, is a different sort of person," replied Hand.

"Well, that's a very nice distinction," remarked one of the young men.

"There's truth in what he says, however," said Ranson. "I have felt a fear of consequences many a time, yet I know that I am not a coward; for my conduct in the time of battle, and when death was hailing around me, proves it."

"I can't see any distinction between a coward and a man of many fears," remarked Davenport; "though, of course, I don't know enough of words to argue the point."

"To make it clearer," replied Hand, "I will assert that Washington was a man fearful of consequences, and some of those who refused to go to the aid of the heroes of Bunker Hill were cowards."

"It's all plain enough to me," observed Colson. But the rest of the company, by shakes of the head and meditative looks, indicated that the distinction was not perceptible to their mental vision.

THE BATTLE OF ORISKANY.

"Well now, my friends, I can tell you of a brave man who was not fearful enough to be prudent," observed Colson. "I allude to Gen. Herkimer. No man can dispute his courage; and it is clear that if he had possessed more fear of Indian wiles, he would not have fallen into an ambuscade."

"Will you tell us about the battle in which he fell?" enquired Hand.

"I was about to do so," replied Colson. "Brig. Gen. Herkimer was the commander of the militia of Tryon County, N.Y., when news was received that St. Leger, with about 2,000 men, had invested Fort Schuyler. The General immediately issued a proclamation, calling out all the able-bodied men in the county, and appointed a place for their rendezvous and a time for them to be ready for marching to the relief of Fort Schuyler.

"Learning that Gen. Herkimer was approaching to the relief of the garrison, and not being disposed to receive him in his camp, St. Leger detached a body of Indians and tories, under Brant and Col. Butler, to watch his approach, and to intercept, if possible, his march. The surrounding country afforded every facility for the practice of the Indian mode of warfare. In the deep recesses of its forests they were secure from observation, and to them they could retreat in case they were defeated. Finding that the militia approached in a very careless manner, Butler determined to attack them by surprise. He selected a place well fitted for such an attack. A few miles from the fort there was a deep ravine sweeping toward the east in a semicircular form, and having a northern and southern direction. The bottom of this ravine was marshy, and the road along which the militia were marching crossed it by means of a log causeway. The ground thus partly enclosed by the ravine was elevated and level. Along the road, on each side of this height of land, Butler disposed his men.

"About ten o'clock on the morning of the 6th of August, 1777, the Tryon County militia arrived at this place without any suspicions of danger. The dark foliage of the forest trees, with a thick growth of underbrush, entirely concealed the enemy from their view. The advanced guard, with about two-thirds of the whole force, had gained the elevated ground, the baggage-wagons had descended into the ravine--Col. Fisher's regiment was still on the east side--when the Indians arose, and with a dreadful yell poured a destructive fire upon them. The advanced guard was entirely cut off. Those who survived the first fire were immediately cut down with the tomahawk. The horror of the scene was increased by the personal appearance of the savages, who were almost naked and painted in a most hideous manner. They ran down each side, keeping up a constant fire, and united at the causeway; thus dividing the militia into two bodies. The rear regiment, after a feeble resistance, fled in confusion, and were pursued by the Indians. They suffered more severely than they would have done had they stood their ground, or advanced to the support of the main body in front.

"The latter course would have been attended with great loss, but might probably have been effected. The forward division had no alternative but to fight. Facing out in every direction, they sought shelter behind the trees and returned the fire of the enemy with spirit. In the beginning of the battle, the Indians, whenever they saw that a gun was fired from behind a tree, rushed up and tomahawked the person thus firing before he had time to reload his gun. To counteract this, two men were ordered to station themselves behind one tree, the one reserving his fire until the Indian ran up. In this way the Indians were made to suffer severely in return. The fighting had continued for some time, and the Indians had begun to give way, when Major Watson, a brother-in-law of Sir John Johnson, brought up a reinforcement, consisting of a detachment of Johnson's Greens. The blood of the Germans boiled with indignation at the sight of these men. Many of the Greens were personally known to them. They had fled their country, and were now returned in arms to subdue it. Their presence under any circumstances would have kindled up the resentment of these militia; but coming up as they now did, in aid of a retreating foe, called into exercise the most bitter feelings of hostility. They fired upon them as they advanced, and then rushing from behind their covers, attacked them with their bayonets, and those who had none, with the butt end of their muskets. This contest was maintained, hand to hand, for nearly half an hour. The Greens made a manful resistance, but were finally obliged to give way before the dreadful fury of their assailants, with the loss of thirty killed upon the spot where they first entered. Major Watson was wounded and taken prisoner, though afterwards left upon the field.

"In this assault Col. Cox is said to have been killed; possessing an athletic frame, with a daring spirit, he mingled in the thickest of the fight. His voice could be distinctly heard, as he cheered on his men or issued his orders, amid the clashing of arms and the yells of the contending savages.

"About one o'clock, Adam Helmer, who had been sent by Gen. Herkimer with a letter to Col. Gansevoort, announcing his approach, arrived at the fort. At two o'clock, Lieut. Col. Willet, with 207 men, sallied from the fort for the purpose of making a diversion in favour Gen. Herkimer, and attacked the camp of the enemy. This engagement lasted about an hour, when the enemy were driven off with considerable loss. Col. Willet having thrown out flanking parties, and ascertained that the retreat was not feigned, ordered his men to take as much of the spoil as they could remove, and to destroy the remainder. On their return to the fort, above the landing, and near where the old French fort stood, a party of 200 regular troops appeared, and prepared to give battle. A smart fire of musketry, aided by the cannon from the fort, soon obliged them to retreat, when Willet returned into the fort with his spoil, and without the loss of a single man. A part of that spoil was placed upon the walls of the fortress, where it waved in triumph in sight of the vanquished enemy.

"This timely and well-conducted sally was attended with complete success. A shower of rain had already caused the enemy to slacken their fire, when finding by reports that their camp was attacked and taken, they withdrew and left the militia in possession of the field.

"The Americans lost in killed nearly 200, and about as many wounded and prisoners; they carried off between 40 and 50 of their wounded. They encamped the first night upon the ground where old Fort Schuyler was built.

"Among the wounded was Gen. Herkimer. Early in the action his leg was fractured by a musket-ball. The leg was amputated a few days after, but in consequence of the unfavourable state of the weather, and want of skill in his surgeons, mortification ensued, and occasioned his death. On receiving his wound, his horse having been killed, he directed his saddle to be placed upon a little hillock of earth and rested himself upon it. Being advised to choose a place where he would be less exposed, he replied, 'I will face the enemy.' Surrounded by a few men he continued to issue his orders with firmness. In this situation, and in the heat of the battle, he very deliberately took from his pocket his tinder-box and lit his pipe, which he smoked with great composure. He was certainly to blame for not using greater caution on his march, but the coolness and intrepidity which he exhibited when he found himself ambuscaded, aided materially in restoring order and in inspiring his men with courage. His loss was deeply lamented by his friends and by the inhabitants of Tryon County. The Continental Congress, in October following, directed that a monument should be erected to his memory, of the value of five hundred dollars. But no monument was ever erected."

"I will face the enemy," said Kinnison, repeating the words of the brave Herkimer.

"Heroic words. But the General should have possessed more prudence. He had lived long enough in the neighbourhood of the Indians to know their mode of warfare, and he should have sent out rangers to reconnoitre his route," remarked Colson.

"However," observed Kinnison, "the enemy didn't get off whole-skinned. I have heard that they had more than 200 killed. It was a hard-fought battle, and considering all circumstances, no men could have behaved better than our militia did. You see, young men, after they recovered from the confusion of the first attack, they found they had no ammunition save what they had in their cartouch-boxes. Their baggage-wagons were in possession of the enemy, and they could get no water, which was in great demand in such warm weather. To fight five or six hours under such circumstances was certainly noble conduct."

"Another point is to be taken into consideration. The enemy were much superior in numbers," said Colson.

"Of course; that's very important," replied Ranson.

"I suppose there was little mercy shown by either party. There was too much hateful fury," said Hand.

"You're right," remarked Colson. "Few tories received quarters from the militia, and fewer of the militia asked it of the tories."

"Herkimer should have been more cautious. Though a brave soldier, we cannot consider him a good commander," said Pitts.

"Nay, I think he was a good commander, friend Pitts," replied Hanson. "He was cool-headed and skilful in the hottest battle; and because he neglected sending out scouts on one occasion, you should not conclude that imprudence was part of his character."

"But a commander, acquainted with Indian warfare, as Herkimer was, must be considered imprudent if he neglects such a common precaution as sending out scouts," observed Kinnison.

CONCLUSION.

"Well, we won't argue the matter now. It's getting late, and we had better break our company," said Warner.

"But first we'll have a toast and a song," replied Hand. "Fill your glasses, friends. Heaven knows if we may ever meet again; and your company has been too amusing and instructive for us to part suddenly."

"The ale has made me feel very drowsy," said Kinnison.

"But you may sip our toast. Gentlemen, this is the Fourth of July; and surely it becomes us, as Americans, to toast the memory of the men who, on this day, pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honors for the support of our independence. I therefore propose, 'The memory of the Signers of the Declaration of Independence. May the brightness of their fame endure as long as patriotism and the love of freedom burn in the breasts of mankind!'" exclaimed Hand. This was drunk standing, and a short silence ensued.