Then, in obedience to his friends' urging, Seth explained how he had succeeded in reaching the American lines on the night they parted with him on the outskirts of Philadelphia.
It was not such a story as would cause much excitement, owing to the lack of adventure. From the moment he left them until he was at Valley Forge he saw nothing of the enemy. The food provided by Mrs. Ball was ample for all his wants, and the journey which he had believed would be bristling with danger was hardly more than a pleasing excursion.
He had been received with a hearty welcome by the Americans, who, through their spies in Philadelphia, had heard of his dangerous situation, and was allowed to enlist in whatever branch of the service he desired. He enrolled himself in the New Jersey militia, commanded by General Dickinson, because among them were several acquaintances, and had done a soldier's duty from that day.
Jacob expressed considerable surprise that he had not been rewarded in some way because of all he had suffered, and Seth's reply occasioned Master Ludwick no slight amount of astonishment.
"That would have been strange indeed, to reward me for simply trying to do something in aid of the cause."
"But you gave information which must have been valuable to the Americans."
"It was, so I have since been told, and surely such knowledge is sufficient reward."
"I ain't so certain about that," Master Ludwick replied doubtfully. "Now I had an idea that Enoch and I would be made officers at the very least, because of bringing news which may prevent General Lafayette from being made prisoner; but if you haven't got so much as a uniform for all you've been through with, perhaps we shan't fare any better."
Seth laughed long and loud at the idea that Jacob had expected to be made an officer in the Continental army before he had even so much as handled a musket, and said, when his mirth had subsided sufficiently to admit of his speaking:
"After you are in the ranks you'll learn that such rewards as you expected could not well be given, unless the army was to be used as an ornament, instead of for fighting. I suppose of course you will enlist?"
"It looks as if that was all we could do," Enoch replied. "It wouldn't be safe for us to go back to the city, for some one of the squad that pursued us might remember our faces. Yes, the time has come when we should become soldiers, and it seems to be more than ever our duty since we are within the American lines by accident."
"And you will enlist in the regiment to which I belong?"
"It seems as if we should be with the Pennsylvania troops."
"I don't understand that it can make any particular difference, for you will do your duty in one place as well as another."
"Of course we want to be with you," Jacob added thoughtfully, "and if you really believe there's no chance of our being made officers, I suppose we can't do better than join your company."
"Then you may as well sign the rolls at once, for I question if General Lafayette will recommend you for promotion until you know what a private's duty is. Did you see one of our friends in Philadelphia, whom I sent to you?"
"Do you mean a man who was dressed as a farm-hand, and came into the market to sell vegetables?"
"Yes."
"We met him on the day the Britishers had their celebration, or whatever it may be called. Who is he?"
"A member of the company to which I belong; a true patriot, and one who is willing to risk his life over and over again if by so doing he can aid the cause. His name is Robert Greene, and when I heard that he wanted to be directed to several people in the city who might be able to give him information, I told him about you. The fact that the Britishers kept you in jail so long was sufficient evidence you were to be depended upon."
Then Seth insisted that his comrades tell him the story of their troubles after he escaped, but before his curiosity could be fully satisfied the entire camp was aroused.
It was nearly time for the sun to rise, and General Lafayette had begun making preparations to escape from the trap into which he had voluntarily walked.
Three messengers from different points had come into camp to give notice of the British advance, and the commander knew by this time that Grant's troops were halted at the forks of the roads leading, one to Barren Hill, and the other to Matson's Ford. It was also learned that a considerable number of men had been sent to Chestnut Hill, while Grey with his force of two thousand was at the ford, less than three miles in front of Lafayette's right flank.
Thus it was that the Americans were almost completely surrounded, the only avenue of escape left open being by way of Matson's Ford, the approach to which was very near where Grant had halted his five thousand men.
The older soldiers whom the boys heard discussing the situation were of the opinion that General Lafayette was in a trap from which he could not escape, and, in fact, the majority of the Americans believed they must soon be made prisoners of war, which would be a small disaster as compared to the blow given the American arms before the summer campaign was fairly opened.
"It begins to look as if we had jumped out of the frying-pan into the fire," Jacob said as he stood with his comrades listening to the comments of those around him. "We're likely to go back to Philadelphia sooner than we counted on, and Mr. Wharton will be after us as horse thieves."
"Come with me," Seth suggested. "I do not believe General Lafayette is in as bad a fix as some try to make out; but if he is, it will be better for you to be captured with muskets in your hands, rather than as fellows who came here solely to bring information of the enemy's movements."
"How can we do that while we have the horses? I don't propose to give them up unless we're forced to, and that is what would happen if we followed you."
There was no longer time for Seth to discuss the matter with his friends. The drums were beating the call for the men to "fall in," and he was forced to take his proper station in the line.
While Jacob hesitated, and Enoch was doing his best to persuade him that it would be wisest to leave the horses to their fate, the booming of heavy guns close at hand startled the boys, and Master Ludwick was looking anxiously around for some convenient way of escape, believing the British close upon them, when one of the officers they had stopped on the road came up.
"You look frightened," he said laughingly.
"That's just what I am," Jacob replied grimly. "I don't want to be taken back to the city as a horse thief, and it now seems as if that was what is about to be done."
"There is no cause for fear yet awhile. Those cannon are being served by our men, and I allow they will deceive the Britishers, even though no great execution follows."
"But it sounds like a regular battle."
"I admit that, my boy; but unless I am mistaken we shan't see anything in the way of an engagement this morning."
"Do you think General Lafayette will – "
"Have patience and you shall see what is to be done. The troops will soon begin to move toward Matson's Ford, and you two had better make your way in that direction at once."
"But some of the soldiers said the Britishers were very near there."
"So they are; but I fancy we can prevent them from knowing what is being done until our troops are in a place of safety, for, as a matter of course, there can be no question of pitting twenty-five hundred men against more than seven thousand. Take my advice, and get to the ford as soon as possible."
Enoch insisted that their wisest course was to act upon the officer's suggestion, and although Jacob appeared to think he should receive personal orders from General Lafayette regarding himself, he finally did as his comrade desired, and, mounted on Mr. Wharton's horses, they followed the main body of the troops.
Not until after the movement had been successfully executed, and all the men and baggage withdrawn to a place of safety, did the boys understand how it was done. Then the maneuver was explained to them by a soldier whose acquaintance they made during that day.
"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 in the churchyard as though to receive Grey; his artillery, by a well-directed fire, encouraged the idea that he purposed 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 of 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 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 Grey'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 curveting 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."2
CHAPTER IX.
ROBERT GREENE
During the retreat to Valley Forge Jacob and Enoch did not see Seth, who, as a matter of course, remained with his regiment.
The two boys who had brought the earliest information regarding General Howe's movements rode the horses taken from the Tory, and, therefore, were not inconvenienced by the forced march; but they had good opportunity of learning something concerning a private soldier's duties and labors which they had never realized before.
"Now you can see that I wasn't such a very big fool because I wanted to be an officer," Jacob said as they neared the encampment at Valley Forge. "Look at the privates staggering under a load big enough for a horse, while those who have commissions ride or walk at their leisure, with nothing to carry but a sword."
"I didn't laugh at you for wanting to be an officer, but because you seemed to think it would be easy to perform the duties of one."
"I'm not certain that I shall enlist unless General Lafayette gives us a better show than the rest have got."
Enoch looked at him in astonishment.
"Do you mean that you hesitate to become a soldier now we are where it is possible to enlist?"
"That's it exactly. If nothing turns up in our favor, I shall think twice before signing the rolls," Jacob replied with an air of complacency, much as if he believed his enlisting would be of the most vital importance to the cause.
"What will your father say when he learns that you do not care to be a soldier? He must be here at Valley Forge, and most likely we shall soon see him."
"When father knows that we are given the cold shoulder after doing the work we did last night he will think as I do."
"I shall join the company of which Seth is a member, and you had better do the same thing. Of course we can't stay here in the encampment unless we enlist."
"Don't be in too much of a hurry to tie yourself down; but wait until I have seen father."
Enoch would have much preferred to enroll himself as a private in the Continental army without delay; but Jacob urged him so strongly to wait at least twenty-four hours that he could not refuse without giving offense to his comrade.
"What are we to do?" he asked as they rode into the encampment in advance of the retreating force, being allowed to enter the lines after explaining who they were, and why they had come.
"You stay near here, while I look for father. He will find us a place in which to sleep to-night, and supply us with food."
"Shall you be gone long?"
"It doesn't seem likely; but you must stay near here, for I should never find you if you strayed away. I had no idea there were so many men in the Continental camp."
"Did you think the army would be composed of Seth, you, and I, and all three of us holding commissions because by chance we did our duty?"
"Perhaps you won't make sport of me to-morrow at this time, and it may be you'll learn that I wasn't very far wrong when I said we should be rewarded for our services."
"We won't discuss that matter again," Enoch replied laughingly, "otherwise you may not find your father to-day. Don't be gone any longer than necessary, for it won't be particularly jolly standing around here holding a horse that ought to have his breakfast."
"I'll be back as soon as I can," Jacob cried as he rode away, and Enoch turned his attention to the returning troops, finding much to interest him as the different regiments marched into the encampment, filing to the right or the left to occupy their old quarters.
He saw Seth as the latter's company came up among the last, and, but for his promise to Jacob, would have followed in order to learn where his friend might be found later.
Finally the last of the soldiers arrived; the camp resumed its wonted air, much as though twenty-five hundred men had not marched out full of hope, and come back again dispirited, if not disheartened.
One, two, three hours passed, and Jacob was yet absent.
Enoch had about decided to leave his unprofitable station, regardless of the trouble it might cause Master Ludwick to find him, and seek out Seth, when he was accosted by a soldier whose face looked familiar, but whose identity he could not recall.
"So you got into the Continental camp sooner than you expected, eh? It was a good bit of work you did, but, save for the urgency of the case, I could wish you had never left town."
"It seems to me I have met you before; but I can't remember where," and Enoch looked at the man scrutinizingly.
"It isn't strange you should fail to know me in this garb; I was dressed as a farmer when you saw me last."
"You are the one who talked with us on the day of the carnival!"
"Exactly, and now perhaps you can understand why I am sorry because it became necessary for you to leave town."
"Yet we couldn't do very much toward helping you in your work."
"What you have done since last evening shows of how much assistance you might be. Two boys can loiter here or there without exciting the suspicion which would naturally be aroused if a man was observed doing the same thing."
"I can't say I'm sorry we came away. It seemed necessary we should do so – "
"And so it was, my boy. You did just right in getting to Barren Hill at the earliest possible moment."
"It was Jacob's idea. I do not believe I should have thought of getting the horses but for him, and he planned the whole affair."
"Yet he is dissatisfied because General Lafayette did not embrace and kiss him on both cheeks, at the same time making him at least a colonel, isn't he?"
Enoch laughed heartily, and finally asked curiously:
"How did you know anything about that?"
"It comes natural for me to pry into every one's business, and it may be I heard you two talking, or read it in Master Ludwick's face. But why is it you do not expect a rich reward?"
"Because we have simply performed our duty, and when that is done in behalf of the cause one is rewarded by the knowledge that he has been of some service."
"It would be better for the cause if more were of your way of thinking," Greene said in a low tone, and added quickly, "What do you propose to do now?"
"Enlist."
"In what branch of the service?"
"I would like to be with Seth Graydon, and, if possible, shall join his company."
"What does Master Ludwick say to that plan?"
"He has gone to consult with his father, and I am waiting here for his return."
"If he finds old Chris, and complains because he has not been rewarded, I predict that he will come back with a sore body, for our baker-general is a true-blooded American even though he was born in Germany, and will not have any patience with such ideas as his son entertains. Tell me, Enoch Ball, would you be willing to serve your country in another way than by becoming a soldier?"
"I would do anything in my power."
"Now more than ever is it necessary we should know all that is being done in Philadelphia. Clinton is soon to take command of the British army, and no one can guess what his policy will be. It would not be safe for Seth Graydon to volunteer for such work, because the Britishers would hang him off-hand if he ever fell into their clutches; I'm not certain I could trust Master Ludwick implicitly, but I would like you for a comrade."
"But I am known in town."
"Not to so many that it would interfere with your doing all that might be required. If you should return home at once – this very day – it would not be difficult to persuade suspicious ones that you had never left the city."
Enoch was almost frightened by the proposition. He understood how much danger would be attached to such work, and fancied the enemy knew perfectly well who had carried the first information to General Lafayette; but yet he replied in as firm a tone as he could assume:
"I am ready to do anything, or go anywhere that is best for the cause."
"It is bravely spoken, my boy. Do not fear that the enemy are looking for you; I question very much if General Howe or his officers have the slightest idea that any information was carried to General Lafayette, save by the country people who saw the forces on the march. Will you be ready to go back with me this evening?"
"Yes; I only want to see Seth and Jacob a moment, and it is not really necessary I should do even that, for I could leave word I would soon come back."
"There is no reason why you shouldn't wait till Master Ludwick returns, and then I will show you where Seth's regiment is encamped."
Greene seated himself on the ground as if perfectly willing to remain there any length of time, and after tying the horse's bridle to the wheel of a cannon Enoch sat down beside the spy.
"How long have you been doing this kind of work?" he asked.
"Playing the spy, do you mean? I began last fall, when our army went into winter-quarters. There was some fear then that General Howe might take a notion to stir our folks up at a time when they were having about all they could do to keep body and soul together, without thinking of fighting, and I volunteered for the work. It seemed dangerous at first, as it now does to you; but I soon got over that idea, and grew to like the task."
"You would be hanged if captured?"
"True, and it is not a pleasant way of going out of the world; but I am in no more danger of death than if I went into a battle, and some one must do the work."
"Yet Seth was captured the very first time he tried to give our friends information."
"That may be accounted for by the fact that he was not a spy; if he had been he would never have allowed the Continentals to escort him where he might be seen by the enemy. A man engaged in such business does not take any unnecessary chances, and is always on the alert lest his true character be discovered. That which I propose you shall do, however, is not as dangerous as it now appears, and I am positive you will not dislike it. Tell me, have you seen nothing since you met the army to dispel the supposed charm of a soldier's life?"
"I never thought there could be any sport in being a soldier, and what I have seen is only such as I have believed was the fact. Why is it that I have not met more officers?"
"Perhaps because Lafayette's advance was not considered an important movement, and, therefore, he had only his own staff with him. You would see plenty of generals by staying here a few days, and some of them as useless as they are gaudy in dress."
"It seems that you are not friendly with all of them," Enoch said with a smile.
"I am only a private, therefore could not be on intimate terms with the most humble of them; but I have seen very much, and heard more, since I began to play the spy, that shakes my faith in some of the officers under General Washington, and the one I most distrust is he who is next in rank to the commander-in-chief."
"What do you mean?" and now Enoch's curiosity was excited.
"Hark ye, lad, it is not for me to speak against my superior officer, whether he be a captain or a general, but if you and I are to work together you should know it, for I want you to keep your ears open very wide whenever his name is mentioned, particularly by those who are enemies to the cause. He it is that I fear more than I do Howe or Clinton."
"What is his name?"
Greene bent forward that he might whisper in his comrade's ear:
"Charles Lee, senior major-general under our Washington."
"I have heard of him."
"Where?" the spy asked eagerly, as if believing he might hear something to still further confirm his suspicions.
"I can't say; but perhaps it was no more than the mention of his name as one of General Washington's officers. Tell me about him."
"As I said before, it does not become a soldier to speak ill of his superior officer; but you shall hear what the world knows about General Lee. He was formerly in the British army, and served under Burgoyne in Portugal, where he was made lieutenant-colonel. He was with Braddock when that officer was defeated on the banks of the Monongahela, and with Abercrombie at Ticonderoga. After that he lived for some time with the Mohawk Indians, and was such a restless, jealous, quarrelsome man that they gave him the name 'Boiling Water.' He left the king's service, and came over here in '73, claiming to be in sympathy with the colonists, and succeeding so well in his pretensions, or his faith, whichever you choose to call it, that when the Continental army was organized he received a commission as major-general. That didn't satisfy him, patriot though he claimed to be, and he demanded that Congress make good to him any loss he might sustain by reason of having given up his commission with the British army. In '76 Congress loaned him thirty thousand dollars, without any security other than his own name on a bond."
"He got a good price for his services. Why, even General Washington himself hasn't been given that much!"
"No, nor any part of it, outside of his pay. Now what has Lee done for the cause? When General Washington was pursued across New Jersey in '76 by Cornwallis, Lee followed with a heavy force; but although called upon again and again by the commander-in-chief to strike a blow at the pursuers, he refused to obey – or neglected to do so, which amounts to the same thing."
"Why?"
"Perhaps because he hoped some disaster would befall General Washington, and he be given command of the army. Then, long after Cornwallis gave up the chase, Lee hung around New Jersey until he found a chance – that's the way I put it – found a chance to be captured by a small British scouting party, and was taken prisoner to New York. He was soon hand in glove with General Howe and his officers, and there are many of our people who say he told all he knew regarding our condition and plans. Then came the farce of exchanging him for some officer we had captured, and only two weeks or less ago he showed his cloven foot again, according to my way of thinking."
"In what way?"
"The Congress ordered that the oath of allegiance be administered to the officers here at Valley Forge before the beginning of the campaign, and Lee was forced to come up with the others. When he and two or three more had their hands on the Bible, he took his off when General Washington began to read the oath. The commander waited for him to put his hand back, and he withdrew it again before the words could be read. Then General Washington asked what he meant, and he said – these are the very words as they were told me by one who was there – 'As to King George I am ready enough to absolve myself from all allegiance to him, but I have some scruples about the Prince of Wales.'"
"What did he mean by that?"
"According to my idea it was only an excuse to get out of taking the oath, but those present seemed to think it only one of his odd traits, and passed it over as something not to be remembered. I bear it in mind, though, and want you to do the same if you are ever where it is possible to learn anything regarding him."
"But it isn't the duty of a private to watch his superior officers," Enoch ventured to suggest.
"It is in this case, for I look on General Charles Lee as a man who can, and will, if he gets the chance, do more against the cause than even Howe himself."
Enoch was impressed by what Greene had told him; but he did not believe it could ever be possible for him to detect an officer, second in rank only to the commander-in-chief, in treasonable practices. Besides, it appeared to him a very disgraceful duty to impose upon a boy who was not yet a soldier, and, perhaps, would have remonstrated, but that Jacob appeared just at that moment.
Master Ludwick was not looking particularly cheerful, and Greene whispered as he approached:
"I'll venture to say that old Chris the baker has been giving his son a lesson on the patriotic idea of expecting a rich reward whenever he chances to be of service to the cause. Old Chris isn't that sort of a man."
It seemed very much as if the spy was correct in his guess, for Jacob had nothing more to say against enlisting, but appeared anxious to know when Enoch proposed to sign the rolls.
"Have you decided to do so?"
"Yes," was the curt reply.
"To-night?"
"If I don't there won't be much chance of getting rations."
"But I thought you counted on staying with your father?"
"I have changed my mind," Jacob replied as if the subject was not a pleasant one.
"What have you done with your horse?"
"Father thought he ought to be turned over to the army, and then I couldn't be accused of stealing him for my own benefit."
"I reckon I'd better do the same thing," Enoch said, trying not to smile when Greene indulged in an expressive wink. "Where can it be done?"
"I'll show you the ropes, or, what is better, do the business for you," the spy replied. "I reckon you want to see Seth Graydon a spell before we leave?"
"That is what I would like to do."
"Go in that direction," and Greene pointed to the right, "until you have passed a lot of cannon; then turn to the left, and you'll be in the midst of the Jersey boys. I shall find you there, and we'll call on General Dickinson before starting."
"What did he mean?" Jacob asked as the spy walked away with Mr. Wharton's steed. "Are you counting on going anywhere?"
Enoch explained to his comrade what it was Greene had proposed, and concluded by saying:
"We'll have a talk with Seth. If he thinks I can really be of as much service in the city as here, I shall go."
"And I'll be with you! This enlisting ain't what I've always thought it was, and if I can get out of camp without father's knowing it, I'll be all right."
"Without his knowing it? Do you think he would object to your going back?"
"I don't think anything about it, 'cause I know. There's no need of telling any one else, Enoch, but he raised an awful row when I talked about being an officer, and when I said I guessed I wouldn't enlist he flew into a terrible rage. He acted as if it would just suit him for me to be marched out somewhere and shot at."
It was with difficulty Enoch could refrain from laughing at the disconsolate expression on Jacob's face; but he succeeded in checking his mirth sufficiently to say in a sympathetic tone:
"Of course he doesn't want you shot, Jacob; but you must remember how much your father has done for the cause, and I suppose it made him angry when you spoke of being paid for the little we did last night."
"Made him angry? Why, he flew way off, an' I thought one spell that he was going to flog me. If I can get away when you do, it'll be all right."
"I have been told that it isn't possible to walk out of a military camp whenever you choose. You must have a pass, or something of that kind."
"We didn't have any trouble to get in here."
"Not after we told who we were and that we intended to enlist."
"You said that; I didn't."
"Yes; but you came in, and I don't think it will be very easy to get out again unless your father knows you are going."
"Then I shall stay here as long as I live, except that fellow Greene would be willing to say I could do a deal of good in the city. Will you ask him?"
Enoch promised to do as his friend wished, but at the same time he did not believe the spy would be very eager for this addition to the party.
The boys had been walking during the conversation, and by the time it was concluded they had passed the artillery park, arriving at that portion of the encampment where the New Jersey troops were quartered.
Seth was on the lookout for them, and the warmth of his greeting was particularly pleasing to Master Ludwick, who felt decidedly sore in mind.