WITH WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGEBy W. Bert FosterCHAPTER XThe Landing of the Enemy
WITH WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGEBy W. Bert Foster
By W. Bert Foster
The story opens in the year of 1777, during one of the most critical periods of the Revolution. Hadley Morris, our hero, is in the employ of Jonas Benson, the host of the Three Oaks, a well-known inn on the road between Philadelphia and New York. Like most of his neighbors, Hadley is an ardent sympathizer with the patriot cause. When, therefore, a dispatch bearer is captured on the way to Philadelphia, he gives Hadley the all-important packet to be forwarded to General Washington. The boy immediately escapes with it, and, after many perilous experiences, finally makes his way across the river to the Pennsylvania side. On the road, Hadley, failing to give the countersign, is stopped by a foraging party of Americans; but by his honest bearing he wins the attention of John Cadwalader, a personal friend of Washington, just then journeying to the American headquarters. Under his protection, our hero speedily arrives at his destination, and delivers the dispatches. Hadley then returns to the Three Oaks to resume his duties. But the lad is destined for a more eventful life. Shortly afterwards he receives an urgent summons from Cadwalader, whereupon he immediately sets out for the patriot headquarters.
The story opens in the year of 1777, during one of the most critical periods of the Revolution. Hadley Morris, our hero, is in the employ of Jonas Benson, the host of the Three Oaks, a well-known inn on the road between Philadelphia and New York. Like most of his neighbors, Hadley is an ardent sympathizer with the patriot cause. When, therefore, a dispatch bearer is captured on the way to Philadelphia, he gives Hadley the all-important packet to be forwarded to General Washington. The boy immediately escapes with it, and, after many perilous experiences, finally makes his way across the river to the Pennsylvania side. On the road, Hadley, failing to give the countersign, is stopped by a foraging party of Americans; but by his honest bearing he wins the attention of John Cadwalader, a personal friend of Washington, just then journeying to the American headquarters. Under his protection, our hero speedily arrives at his destination, and delivers the dispatches. Hadley then returns to the Three Oaks to resume his duties. But the lad is destined for a more eventful life. Shortly afterwards he receives an urgent summons from Cadwalader, whereupon he immediately sets out for the patriot headquarters.
AS Lafe Holdness said, the enemy could take nothing from the boy courier on this journey—nothing of information or papers of value; but the possibility of being waylaid and beaten, perhaps killed, was not pleasant to contemplate. Hadley could scarcely understand the veiled warning he had received from Lillian Knowles. Was her father about to stop him on the road, believing that he again carried documents of importance to the American forces? He did not wish to fall into Colonel Creston Knowles’ hands just then, for the latter was angry enough with him as it was, and Hadley did not care to add to his irritation.
It might be, however, that somebody else had overheard a part of the recent conference in the inn stable, and Lillian was cognizant of the fact. Some Tory visitor, perhaps, had known of his starting forth. He drew rein again in the shadow of a long pile of cordwood which bordered the wall of the Benson estate, and felt in the darkness for a stout club, heavy enough to do a man’s head serious damage, but not too clumsy for him to swing easily. Then he chirruped to Black Molly, and she trotted on, her master keeping his eyes sharply open for trouble.
He was too proud to ride back and ask Lafe to come with him; Hadley did not lack personal courage. But he was nevertheless all of a tremor as the little mare trotted over the hard road. He gripped the club nervously, and tried to pierce the gloom, which was thickest, of course, under the trees which bordered the road. He was taking the shortest road to the ferry to-night, for there was no trouble to be apprehended there from British soldiers, and he would be sure to get quick transportation to the other side, for the people at the ferry were loyal. He would not have gone around by the Alwood house again for a good deal.
Rod after rod the inn was left behind and Black Molly had now brought him quite a quarter of a mile from the Benson place. There were no other houses on this road until he passed the Morris pastures, where he had his unpleasant meeting with Lon Alwood the day before. The mare footed it nicely over the road until now; but suddenly she threw up her head, her quivering ears pointed forward—Had could see them as dark as the night was—as though she listened to some sound too faint for her rider’s dull hearing to catch.
“What is it, Molly?” the youth demanded, holding a tight rein and gripping the club more firmly than before.
Instantly a harsh voice addressed him out of the darkness. “Stand there, and deliver!” At the same instant a figure sprang before the little mare and her bridle was seized by a firm hand. “Don’t make her dance!” ordered the stranger; “for if you do I’ll put a ball through her head and perhaps one through you.”
Hadley saw that the speaker waved a big horse-pistol in his other hand, and he spoke quietingly to Molly. “What do you want?” he demanded, in as brave a tone as he could assume.
“Give me what you carry,” commanded the other, still speaking gruffly. Hadley felt sure that it was a disguised voice, and remembering what Lillian Knowles had said to him as he left the inn, he wondered who the person was who had halted him. “No slippery tricks, Had Morris!” growled he at the horse’s head. “Hand me the papers you carry. Give me what you’ve got.”
But the strain of disguising his voice grew too much for the fellow, and as he talked he unconsciously dropped back into his usual manner of speaking. At once Hadley, although he was still unable to see his face, knew that it was Lon Alwood who had stopped him. And he was puzzled by the discovery, for he wondered how Mistress Lillian could have known of the Tory youth’s intention.
His mind did not work in one direction alone, however. Before Alwood had reiterated his demand Hadley was preparing to make answer. “You want what I carry?” he cried. “Then take it!” and swinging up the club suddenly he brought it down again upon the shoulder of his enemy. Lon roared and dropped both the pistol and the mare’s bridle rein; but Hadley did not come out of the affray without trouble.
Black Molly was startled by the blow and darted to the side of the road. Before the American youth could pull her in she was in the ditch, and only her quickness saved her from a disastrous fall. As she slid down the steep side of the gulley Had slipped his feet from the stirrups and leaped to the ground. Lon, with many imprecations and threats, groped madly about the dark roadway, and finally found the pistol. He was maddened beyond all control now, and dimly beholding Hadley’s bulk through the gloom—where he stood on the edge of the ditch urging the mare out upon the level again—he aimed the weapon and would have fired at his old schoolfellow point-blank!
But before his finger pressed the trigger a third actor appeared upon the scene. A man sprang from the bushes on the far side of the road and in two strides was beside the Tory. He seized Alwood’s arm, and the pistol ball flew wide of its intended mark.
At the moment the shot was fired Hadley had managed to half drag Black Molly from the ditch. His quick side glance saw the danger, and he sprang for the steed’s back; the explosion of the heavy pistol frightened Black Molly again, and before her rider was firmly settled in the saddle she was off like the wind. He obtained, however, another swift glance at the two figures struggling in the roadway behind him, just as the second barrel of the weapon was exploded. The flash lit up the scene, and with astonishment Hadley recognized the person who had saved him as Colonel Knowles’ cockney servant.
He and Molly were a good mile further on their way, however, before he had time to think much of this surprising fact, for the little mare ran like a scared rabbit. “Who could have sent the man to help me?” he thought, when Molly had finally settled into a respectable pace. “Surely not his master, and Mistress Lillian—”
To believe that the Colonel’s daughter had done him this favor—had sent William to assist him in overcoming the Tory youth—was rather pleasant; yet it seemed too improbable to be true, and he wondered much as he rode swiftly on to the ferry.
There was no trouble in crossing the river on this night. He found fires burning on the banks, and the ferrymen were wide awake. There was considerable bustle at the landing, and Hadley learned that several parties bound for Philadelphia had gone over ahead of him, and that others were expected. The loyal Jersey farmers and farmers’ sons were hastening to join General Washington, eager to take part in this new movement against the enemy. The boy was not delayed or molested in any way, and once on the Pennsylvania shore he urged the little mare to the utmost, passing party after party of recruits, all hastening in the same direction.
Not long past midnight he reached the farmer’s at which he had previously changed horses. The man remembered him, and, thanks to Hadley’s first appearance there under Colonel Cadwalader’s protection, the youth was enabled to get a fresh mount on this occasion. The farmer, too, was able to give him certain information about the movements of the American forces.
“You will not find his Excellency at Germantown,” the farmer declared. “Aye, an’ ye’ll not catch him at Philadelphia, I’m thinkin’. The Redcoats are coming up the Chesapeake, an’ the army’s movin’ south to shelter the city from attack.” Then followed directions relating to crossroads and bridle paths, by following which he might overtake the army on its way to Wilmington.
Without waiting for sleep, but fortified with a hearty meal which the farmer’s wife prepared, Hadley set off again within the hour on a fresh mount. He was weary, saddle-sore, and parched by the August heat. But he was obeying orders, and although he did not understand the importance of the verbal message Holdness had given him for Colonel Cadwalader, the youth knew what his duty was. He could not foresee what was to happen and what sights he should witness before he again rode into the yard of the Three Oaks Inn. The people whom he passed, the Tory element was not in evidence, were very cheerful regarding the battle which they believed would be fought as soon as Lord Howe’s troops landed. Despair and inaction had held the Colonials in a hard grip during these past few months; but now there was a chance to do something, and the farmers were again hopeful.
It so happened that while Hadley Morris was riding hard over the dusty roads to overtake Washington’s personal staff on this 24th day of August, the American army, augmented by fresh recruits, and some 11,000 strong, marched through the length of Front street. Philadelphia had seen some gloomy days of late, but the appearance of so many armed men was calculated to raise the spirits of the populace a little; yet it is said that the cheering along the line of march lacked that inspiring quality with which a conquering army usually goes to battle. It was known that they were about to meet an enemy well-trained and seasoned, and, in addition, outnumbering them by several thousands.
Philadelphia had from the beginning of the war been the headquarters of rebellion, and the British were determined to humble the city. How could Washington’s forces hope to cope with men who had fought on half the battle-fields of Europe? It had been a handful of untrained farmers, however, who had beaten back the grenadiers at Bunker Hill; and it could scarcely be called a trained army that had driven the Redcoats finally out of Boston town.
It was long past mid-afternoon when Hadley overtook the rear guard of the American army. It was no easy matter to find the commander and his staff, and, when found, to select Colonel Cadwalader from the other officers and get near enough to him to deliver the message he carried. But the instant the officer saw and recognized the youth he graciously called him near. Evidently Lafe Holdness’ message, which had been a mystery to Had because he did not understand what the seemingly simple sentence meant, was most important, for Colonel Cadwalader hurried off at once to General Washington, bidding the boy remain with the column until he returned.
When he did return there was with him the young officer who had desired Hadley as a recruit on the day he brought dispatches to the Commander-in-Chief at Germantown. “I cannot let you go back just yet, Master Morris,” Colonel Cadwalader declared; “I may have work for you to do later. Meanwhile I shall place you in Captain Prentice’s care,” and he indicated the smiling subordinate officer. “You are not obliged to fight if it be against your conscience; but you may see some fighting before you return to Jersey.”
He wheeled his horse and rode away again, and Captain Prentice offered the youth his hand. “Leave the nag, Morris,” he said, cordially, “and take your place with ‘Foot and Leggets’ company. Your horse seems about done for anyway, and you will be able to pick up a better one when you return. You’re to go with me, and I am in the infantry.”
And so, rather unexpectedly, Hadley found himself marching with the patriot forces toward Wilmington. Captain Prentice secured him a gun, and he shared the rations of the good-natured fellows about him. The youth was very tired after his long ride, but walking was better than riding, and there were times when the ranks rested. The next day, however, the army reached the Delaware town, only to learn through the scouts that the British had landed at the head of the Elk River, fifty miles or more from Philadelphia. The news spread, too, how greatly the Redcoats outnumbered the Americans. There were 18,000 of the former, and the faces of even the rank and file grew grave.
The Americans marched to Red Clay Creek, beyond Wilmington, and for several days there were smart skirmishes between portions of the two armies. But there was no decisive engagement, and finally Washington outgeneraled Howe and fell back upon the Brandywine, which he crossed at Chadd’s Ford, posting his army on the hills to the east. Meanwhile Captain Prentice’s command had seen little fighting, and both the young officer and Hadley Morris were anxious to get closer to the firing line than they had been thus far.
Hadley had forgotten his original expectation of returning at once to the Three Oaks Inn, after having delivered his message to Colonel Cadwalader; and it looked as though the Colonel had forgotten him. But he was so excited by the prospect of a battle that he was not chafing over the delay of his return journey. Without doubt a fight was imminent, the commanders of the opposing forces maneuvering for the best positions for their line of battle.
Thus August slipped away, September came, and the fateful eleventh day approached.