Elsie on the Hudson Part 11

"Lee was slow in replying; pretended to be very weary and drowsy--only half awake. In this way he detained the captain for some little time before he seemed fairly to understand what was wanted. Then he ridiculed the idea that one of his dragoons had deserted; for such a thing had occurred only once during the whole war.

"But the captain would not be convinced by any such arguments, and by Lee's reluctant orders immediately mustered a squadron of horse, satisfied himself and Lee that one had deserted, and that it was no less a personage than Champe, the sergeant-major, who had decamped with his arms, baggage, and orderly book.

"Captain Carnes ordered an immediate pursuit. Lee delayed the preparations as much as possible, and, when all was ready, ordered a change in the command, giving it to Lieutenant Middleton, a young man of so tender a disposition that he would no doubt treat Champe leniently should he catch him.

"Champe, however, was not caught. These delays had given him an hour's start of his pursuers. It was a bright starry night and past twelve o'clock when Middleton and his men mounted their horses and spurred after him.

"Lossing tells us that the horses of Lee's regiment were all shod by a farrier attached to the corps, and every shoe, alike in form, had a private mark put upon it; so the footprints of Champe's horse were easily recognized; for a fall of rain at sunset had effaced other tracks, and often before it was light enough to see them readily, a trooper would dismount and examine them. Ascending a hill near the village of Bergen, they saw from its summit their deserting sergeant not more than half a mile away. Champe saw them at the same moment, and both he and they spurred on as rapidly as possible. They were all well acquainted with the roads in that part of the country. There was a short cut through the woods to the bridge below Bergen. Middleton divided his party, sending a detachment by the short road to secure the bridge, while he and the others pursued Champe to Bergen. As Paulus Hook could not be reached without crossing the bridge, he now felt sure of capturing the deserter.

"The two divisions met at the bridge and were much astonished to find that nothing was to be seen of Champe. He knew of the short cut, thought his pursuers would take it, and therefore decided to give up the plan of joining the British at the Hook and take refuge on board of one of two of the king's galleys that were lying in the bay about a mile from Bergen.

"Middleton hurried from the bridge to Bergen, and asked if a dragoon had been seen there that morning. He was told that there had been one there, but n.o.body could say which way he went from the bridge. They could no longer see the print of his horse's shoes, and for a moment were at a standstill. But presently a trail was discovered leading to Bergen; they hurried on, and in a few moments caught sight of Champe near the water's edge, making signals to the British galley. He had his valise containing his clothes and his orderly book lashed to his back. When Middleton was within a few hundred yards of him he leaped from his horse, threw away the scabbard of his sword, and, with the naked blade in his hand, sped across the marsh, plunged into the deep waters of the bay, and called to the galley for help. In response to that a boat with strong oarsmen was quickly sent to his help, and directly he was in the galley with all the evidences of his desertion.

"Before night he was safely quartered in New York, having arrived there with a letter from the captain of the galley to Sir Henry Clinton in which the scene of his escape from the American troopers was described.

"Middleton's men picked up Champe's cloak and the scabbard of his sword, then caught his horse and returned with it to Tappan. As Lee caught sight of the articles he took them to be evidence that Champe had been killed, and was grieved at the thought; but his grief was turned into great joy when he learned from Middleton that the sergeant had escaped safely on board one of the enemy's galleys.

"Four days later a letter in a disguised hand, and without signature, came to Lee. It told of the occurrences of Champe's escape, and Lee knew it was from him.

"The British were much pleased with the desertion of Champe, as they knew that Lee's legion was considered very faithful and that therefore this desertion was an evidence of increasing defection among the American troops. Champe did what he could to increase the idea by adroit answers to questions asked of him, giving the impression that he had a strong desire to serve the king. Clinton gave him a couple of guineas, and advised him to call upon Arnold, who was engaged in raising an American legion to be composed of loyalists and deserters.

Arnold received him politely, gave him quarters among his recruiting sergeants, and invited him to join his legion. Champe begged to be excused from that, saying that if caught by the rebels he would surely be hanged; but added that if he changed his mind he would surely join his legion.

"Champe soon found means to deliver the letters Was.h.i.+ngton had entrusted to him, made arrangements with one of the correspondents to aid him in his designs upon Arnold; then communicated with Major Lee, telling him that he had made inquiries in regard to those who were suspected of beginning to favor the enemy, and learned that there was no foundation for the report. Soon he enlisted in the traitor's legion that he might have free intercourse with him and learn his night habits and pursuits. He soon discovered that it was Arnold's custom to return to his quarters about midnight and then to visit a garden at the back of his house which extended down to the edge of the river. Adjoining the garden was a dark alley leading to the street.

All this seemed favorable to Champe's design. He arranged with two accomplices a plan which seemed feasible: a boat was to be in readiness on the river; they were to seize and gag Arnold, carry him through the alley, and from there through the most unfrequented streets to the river; and should anyone attempt to interfere with them on the way they were to represent him as a drunken soldier whom they were taking to the guardhouse. When once they had reached the boat there would be no further difficulty.

"Champe was to remove some of the palings in the garden fence and replace them so slightly that they could be easily, quietly, and quickly taken out when desired. When all was arranged he wrote to Lee and appointed the third subsequent night for the delivery of the traitor on the Jersey sh.o.r.e.

"No doubt Lee was well pleased, and on that evening he and a small party left the camp with three accoutred horses--one for Arnold, one for Champe, and one for the man who was a.s.sisting him--and concealed themselves at a place agreed upon in the woods at Hoboken. There they remained hour after hour until dawn, but no Champe and no prisoner appeared. They were much disappointed, but a few days later Lee received a letter from Champe telling how their plan had failed, and a.s.suring him that nothing could be done in the matter at present.

"He said that on the very day when his plan was to have been carried out Arnold changed his quarters in order to superintend the embarkation of troops for an expedition southward to be commanded by himself. In this expedition the legion in which Champe had enlisted in order to carry out his plans was to take part, and the poor fellow was in a sad dilemma. Instead of crossing the Hudson that night with the traitor as his prisoner, he had been obliged to go on board a transport with that traitor as his commander; and that to fight against, instead of for, his country."

"Oh, papa, did he go and fight against his country?" asked Elsie, drawing a long breath of surprise and sympathy.

"He had to allow himself to be carried to Virginia along with the troops of the enemy, and, I suppose, to go into battle with them,"

replied the captain; "but I dare say he was careful not to shoot any of the Americans. He watched his opportunity to desert, and after a time succeeded in so doing. He went up into the mountains of North Carolina, and when Lee and his legion were pursuing Lord Rawdon, he joined them. His old comrades were greatly astonished to see him--a deserter, as they supposed--and that Major Lee gave him a most cordial reception. But the truth was soon told, and then his old corps showed the greatest love and admiration for him. They were very proud of him, but he was discharged from service because it was very certain that the British, if they could get hold of him, would hang him."

"Is he alive now, papa?" asked Ned.

"Oh, no, my son; he died in 1798--a hundred years ago. At that time we were threatened with a war with France, and Was.h.i.+ngton, appointed to the chief command of our armies, sent to Colonel Lee to inquire for Champe, intending to make him a captain of infantry. But it was too late; the brave and gallant soldier had gone to another world."

"Dear man! I hope he went to heaven!" exclaimed Little Elsie in quivering tones.

"I hope so," responded her father.

There was a moment of silence, presently broken by Ned. "Papa, you know you promised to tell about Nathan Hale; please won't you do it now?"

"I will," replied the captain. "He was a fine, brave, good young man; described as very handsome--six feet tall, perfectly proportioned, light-blue eyes beaming with intelligence, roseate complexion, and soft light-brown hair. He was overflowing with good humor, and always ready to help anyone in distress. He received a good education, his father wis.h.i.+ng him to enter the ministry; but he was teaching school in New London when the news of the Battle of Lexington came. A town meeting was at once held, and Hale was one of the speakers. He urged prompt action, saying, 'Let us march immediately, and never lay down our arms until we have obtained our independence.'

"He took part in the siege of Boston, and was made a captain in January, 1776. He went to New York and did good service there. Early in the fall, in response to a call from General Was.h.i.+ngton, he volunteered to enter the British lines and procure intelligence.

Disguised as a schoolmaster and loyalist, he visited all of the British camps on Long Island and in New York, openly making observations, drawings, and memoranda of fortifications. When he had about finished his work, he was seized by the British and taken before Sir William Howe. On the evidence of papers found in his shoes, he was condemned as a spy, and Sir William ordered him to be hanged. He asked for a Bible, but it was refused him, nor would they let him see a minister. He had written letters to his sisters and to his betrothed, but his cruel captors destroyed them before his eyes. That last was done by William Cunningham--one of the most notoriously cruel Tories of the war. He afterward gave as his reason for that act of cruelty that he meant the rebels should never know they had a man who could die with such firmness.

"As Hale mounted the scaffold he said,'You are shedding the blood of the innocent; if I had a thousand lives I would lay them down in the defence of my injured, bleeding country'; and his last words were, 'I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country.'

"A country that may well remember him with love and pride," said Grandma Elsie.

"Oh, what wicked, wicked things they do in war times!" sighed Little Elsie.

"Yes," said her grandma; "war is itself a wicked thing: wholesale murder--sometimes on both sides, always on one."

"When the folks on one side are fighting for freedom, that's right, isn't it?" asked Eric.

"Yes; everyone not a criminal has a right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."

"Is it right to hang a man just for being a spy?" asked Ned.

"Not always, I'm sure," exclaimed Eric. "It wasn't right to hang Nathan Hale, I'm sure, for he was a good man, and only doing what he could to save his country."

"Very true," said his father; "and he is now one whose memory is cherished and honored, while that of Cunningham--his cruel executioner--is abhorred."

"I'd rather be entirely forgotten than remembered as a cruel, wicked wretch!" exclaimed Eric.

"Yes; as any right-minded person would," said his father.

CHAPTER VIII.

Shortly after breakfast the next morning the whole party were on the yacht, and it was speeding down the river. West Point was their first halting-place. Some hours were spent there; they were just in time for the battery drill; after that they climbed to the top of Mount Independence, enjoyed the view, and visited the ruins of "Old Fort Put"; came down, and then went back to their yacht, promising themselves another and longer visit to West Point some days later.

The captain pointed out the sites of forts Montgomery and Clinton as they pa.s.sed, and told of their building by the Americans during the War of the Revolution and their destruction by the British in 1777.

"As Lossing tells us," said Captain Raymond, "'They fell beneath one heavy blow suddenly and artfully dealt by a British force from New York, and the smitten garrison were scattered like frightened sheep upon the mountains.'"

"Oh, papa, surely they didn't surrender without fighting at all?"

exclaimed Lulu.

"No indeed, daughter; they fought long and desperately. General James Clinton and his brother George were their commanders. As I have told you before, I think, General Clinton established his headquarters at a place called Was.h.i.+ngton Square, about four miles west of the village of New Windsor, and there collected his dispersed troops preparatory to marching to the relief of Kingston, then threatened by the enemy."

"But they didn't get there in time to save it from being burned by the British," said Edward Leland. "What dreadful times those were!"

"Yes," said Grandma Elsie; "we may be very thankful that we live in these better days. And in the best and freest country in the world; which it wouldn't have been, if G.o.d had not been for us in those days of trial."

It was a pleasant morning, and all sat under an awning on the deck, preferring it as the breeziest spot and affording the best view of the beautiful country on either side with its many historical a.s.sociations. Captain Raymond drew attention to Verplanck's and Stony points as they pa.s.sed them.

"Yonder is Verplanck's Point," he said; "and there, overlooking the river, stood, in Revolutionary times, Fort Fayette; and yonder, on the other side, is Stony Point, where was another small fort. They were captured by Sir Henry Clinton on the 1st of June, 1779. The garrison of Stony Point consisted of only forty men, and that at Verplanck's of seventy, commanded by Captain Armstrong. The British flotilla was commanded by Admiral Collier. The troops landed in two divisions on the morning of May 31--the one, under Vaughan, on the east side eight miles below Verplanck's; the other, under Clinton, on the west side a little above Haverstraw. There was no fight at Stony Point, as the garrison retired to the Highlands, knowing that the forces of the enemy were too overwhelming to be successfully resisted. The British took possession; dragged up cannon and mortars during the night; pointed them and the guns found in the fortress toward Fort Fayette, and in the morning began a heavy cannonade upon it. At the same time the fort was attacked in the rear by Vaughan and his troops, and the little garrison surrendered themselves prisoners of war.