The Old Bell of Independence Or Philadelphia in 1776 Part 5

M'Niel followed; but the old woman was corpulent, and before they could descend, a powerful Indian seized Mrs. M'Niel by the hair and dragged her up. Another brought Jenny out of the cellar. But the black woman and the children remained undiscovered. The Indians started off with the two women on the road towards Burgoyne's camp. Having caught two horses that were grazing, they attempted to place their prisoners upon them. Mrs.

M'Niel being too heavy to ride, two stout Indians took her by the arms, and hurried her along, while the others, with Jenny on horseback, proceeded by another path through the woods. The negro boy having alarmed the garrison at the fort, a detachment was sent out to effect a rescue. They fired several volleys at the party of Indians; and the Indians said that a bullet intended for them mortally wounded Jenny, and she fell from her horse; and that they then stripped her of her clothing and scalped her, that they might obtain the reward offered for those things by Burgoyne.

"Mrs. M'Niel said that the Indians who were hurrying her along seemed to watch the flash of the guns, and fell down upon their faces, dragging her down with them. When they got beyond the reach of the firing, the Indians stript the old lady of everything except her chemise, and in that plight carried her into the British camp. There she met her kinsman, General Frazer, who endeavored to make her due reparation for what she had endured. Soon after, the Indians who had been left to bring Jenny arrived with some scalps, and Mrs. M'Niel immediately recognised the long bright hair of the poor girl who had been murdered.

She charged the savages with the crime, but they denied it, and explained the manner of her death. Mrs. M'Niel was compelled to believe their story, as she knew it was more to the interest of the Indians to bring in a prisoner than a scalp.

"It being known in camp that Lieutenant Jones was betrothed to Jenny, some lively imagination invented the story that he had sent the Indians to bring her to camp, and that they quarrelled, and one of them scalped her. This story seemed to be confirmed by General Gates' letter to Burgoyne, and soon spread all over the country, making the people more exasperated against the British than ever. Young Jones was horror-stricken by the death of his betrothed, and immediately offered to resign his commission, but they would not allow him. He bought Jenny's scalp, and then, with his brother, deserted, and fled to Canada."

"Did you ever hear what became of him?" enquired Mrs. Harmar.

"Yes; he was living in Canada the last time I heard of him," replied Morton. "He never married; and, from being a lively, talkative fellow, he became silent and melancholy."

"Poor fellow! It was enough to make a man silent and melancholy,"

remarked young Harmar. "I can imagine how I would have felt if deprived of her I loved, in as tragical a manner." "Don't--don't mention it, my dear!" exclaimed his wife, sensibly affected at the thought of her being scalped.

"It was a horrible transaction," remarked Wilson; "and it had a stirring effect upon our people. I can recollect when I first heard the story with all its embellishments; I felt as if I could have eaten up all the red varmints I should chance to meet."

"General Gates's version of the affair answered a good purpose," said Higgins. "It roused our people to great exertions to defeat the designs of a government which employed those savages."

"King George's government thought it had a right to make use of every body--rascals and honest men--to effect its design of enslaving us; but we taught 'em a thing or two," added Morton, with a gratified smile.

STORY OF THE DEFENCE OF Sh.e.l.l'S BLOCK-HOUSE.

"I suppose," said young Harmar, "that, while you were up in New York, you heard of many b.l.o.o.d.y affairs with the Indians and tories."

"Many a one," replied Morton. "Many a one, sir. I could interest you for days in recounting all I saw and heard. The poor whigs suffered a great deal from the rascals--they did. Those in Tryon county, especially, were always exposed to the attacks of the savages. I recollect an affair that occurred at a settlement called Sh.e.l.l's Bush, about five miles from Herkimer village.

"A wealthy German, named John Sh.e.l.l, had built a block-house of his own. It was two stories high, and built so as to let those inside fire straight down on the a.s.sailants. One afternoon in August, while the people of the settlement were generally in the fields at work, a Scotchman named M'Donald, with about sixty Indians and tories, made an attack on Sh.e.l.l's Bush. Most of the people fled to Fort Dayton, but Sh.e.l.l and his family took refuge in the block-house. The father and two sons were at work in the field when the alarm was given. The sons were captured, but the father succeeded in reaching the block-house, which was then besieged. Old Sh.e.l.l had six sons with him, and his wife loaded the muskets, which were discharged with sure aim. This little garrison kept their foes at a distance. M'Donald tried to burn the block-house, but did not succeed. Furious at the prospect of being disappointed of his expected prey, he seized a crowbar, ran up to the door, and attempted to force it; but old Sh.e.l.l fired and shot him in the leg, and then instantly opened the door and made him a prisoner. M'Donald was well supplied with cartridges, and these he was compelled to surrender to the garrison. The battle was now hushed for a time; and Sh.e.l.l, knowing that the enemy would not attempt to burn the house while their captain was in it, went into the second story, and began to sing the favorite hymn of Martin Luther, when surrounded with the perils he encountered in his controversy with the Pope."

"That was cool," remarked Higgins.

"Bravely cool," added old Harmar.

"Oh, it was necessary to be cool and brave in those times," said Morton.

"But to go on with my story; the respite was very short. The tories and Indians were exasperated at the successful resistance of the garrison, and rushed up to the block-house. Five of them thrust the muzzles of their pieces through the loop-holes; but Mrs. Sh.e.l.l seized an axe, and, with well-directed blows, ruined every musket by bending the barrels. At the same time, Sh.e.l.l and his sons kept up a brisk fire, and drove the enemy off. About twilight, the old man went up stairs, and called out in a loud voice to his wife, that Captain Small was approaching from Fort Dayton, with succor. In a few minutes, he exclaimed, 'Captain Small, march your company round on this side of the house. Captain Getman, you had better wheel your men off to the left, and come up on that side.'

This, you see, was a stratagem. The enemy were deceived, took to their heels, and fled through the woods, leaving eleven men killed and six wounded. M'Donald was taken to Fort Dayton the next day, where his leg was amputated; but the blood flowed so freely that he died in a few hours. On his person was found a silver-mounted tomahawk, which had thirty-two scalp notches on the handle, to show how he had imitated the savages."

"But what became of the two sons who were captured by the tories and Indians?" inquired young Harmar.

"They were carried to Canada," replied Morton. "They afterwards a.s.serted that nine of the wounded tories died on the way. But some of the Indians were resolved to have revenge for their defeat, and they lurked in the woods near Sh.e.l.l's house. One day they found the wished-for opportunity, and fired upon Sh.e.l.l and his boys while they were at work in the field.

One of the boys was killed, and Sh.e.l.l so badly wounded that he died soon after, at Fort Dayton."

"Revenge seems a part of an Indian's nature," remarked young Harmar.

"Yes," said Higgins, "they will pursue one who has injured them in any way until he has paid for it."

"Our people suffered much from them during the Revolution," added Higgins, "and they want no instruction in regard to their character."

STORY OF BATE'S BEVENGE.

"I recollect," said old Harmar, "after our line went south, under General Wayne, just after the surrender of Cornwallis, I met some of the men who had pa.s.sed through Green's campaign. They were the bitterest kind of whigs--men who had seen their houses burnt over their heads, and who could have killed and eaten all the tories they should meet. They told me many wild stories of the black doings of those traitorous rascals."

"Tell us one of them, won't you?" entreated Mrs. Harmar.

"Come, father, spin us one of those yarns, as the sailors say," added her husband. The children also became clamorous for 'a story,' and the old veteran was compelled to comply.

"Well, you shall hear. A man named Joe Bates told me how he had been used by the enemy, and how he had been revenged. He joined the southern army when Greene first took command of it, leaving his wife and two children at his farm on the banks of the Santee River. His brother, John Bates, promised to take care of the family and the farm. You see, John used to help Marion's band whenever he could spare the time--he was so anxious to do something for the good of his country, and he didn't know how else he could do it than by going off on an occasional expedition with Marion. Well, some how or other, Major Wernyss, the commander of the royalists in the neighborhood, got wind of John's freaks, and also of those of some other whig farmers, and he said he would put a stop to them. So he sent a detachment of about twenty-five men to burn the houses of the people who were suspected of being the friends of Marion.

John Bates heard of their coming, and collected about ten or a dozen whigs to defend his house. He hadn't time to send the wife of Joe and his children away to a safer place, or else he thought there was no better place. However it was, they remained there. The house was barred up, and everything fixed to give the red-coats a warm reception, should they attempt to carry out their intention. The time they chose for it was a moonlight night. The neighbors could see their houses burning from the upper windows of the one where they were posted, and they kept muttering curses and threats of vengeance all the time."

"Why didn't each man stay at home, and take care of his own house?"

enquired Mrs. Harmar.

"Of what use would that have been?" returned old Harmar. "By so doing, they could not have saved any house, and would have lost the chance of punis.h.i.+ng the red-coats for their outrages. I forgot to tell you, though, that some of the farmers had brought their wives and children to Bates', and these were all put up-stairs out of the way. The little garrison had made loop-holes on all sides of the house, and each man had his rifle and knife ready to guard the post at which he was stationed.

John Bates was the captain, because he knew most about such fightin'

matters; he learned it of Marion. Well, at last the garrison caught sight of the Britishers coming up steadily, the leader a little in advance. They didn't seem to suspect that any body was in the house, for they had found all the rest deserted. Still they thought it wise to be careful. They surrounded the house at their leader's command, and were getting their things ready to set fire to it, when the garrison, who had kept still as death all the time, blazed away at them from all sides.

This staggered the whole party; four or five of their number were shot dead, and as many more wounded. They rallied, however, and poured a volley into the house. The garrison, under John's command, returned the fire, and seemed to have decidedly the best of the matter. Joe's wife couldn't content herself up-stairs with the women and children. She wanted to be of some use in defending her own house. She would come down and load the guns for John, while he kept a look-out on the movements of the British party. Well, she had just loaded the gun, and was handing it to John, when a bullet whizzed past him, struck her in the breast, and she fell dead. John Bates looked through the loop-hole, and caught sight of one of the red-coats running back from the house, and fired at him but missed. He saw the man's face, though, and remembered it. John then bore the corpse up-stairs. The women and children shrieked at the sight, and thus discovered to the cowardly foe where they were placed. A volley was sent through the upper part of the house, which killed one of Joe's children and wounded the wife of a neighbor. But the enemy were losing men too fast to continue the attack. I think Joe said they had lost half their party in killed and wounded, while in the house only one man was wounded. The red-coats that were left began to move off, dragging some of their wounded with them. Then the farmers threw open the doors and windows, and, giving a shout of triumph, sent a volley after them that must have done some damage."

"Didn't they start a pursuit?" inquired Higgins.

"No: John thought his party was not strong enough, and that the glory of defeating such a party of regulars was enough for once. But several of the wounded red-coats were taken. Some of the farmers wanted to kill them right off, but John wouldn't let them. He said there had been blood enough shed already, and set them at work to bury the dead. Soon after, John went to the army, and told Joe of the attack, and of the death of his wife and child. Joe swore, by the most sacred oaths, to have revenge; and made John describe the appearance of the man whom he had seen running away from the house after firing the shot that had killed Mrs. Bates. The man had peculiar features, and could not be mistaken.

"At the great Battle of Eutaw Springs, Joe was among the troops who charged with trailed arms. He came upon a man who answered the description given by John, and rushed upon him with such force that he pinned him to the ground with his bayonet, and he then drew a knife across his throat to make sure work of it. He told me that he stopped, amid a tremendous storm of grape and musketry, to take a look at the Britisher, and to be sure that he had no life in him."

"What b.l.o.o.d.y creatures war can make men," remarked young Harmar. "That man was not sure he had killed the murderer of his wife."

"It made no difference to him," replied old Harmar. "He hated the whole set, and he had no mercy on any of them. Joe Bates was a clever fellow--as warm a friend and as quiet a companion as you would wish to meet in time of peace; but he hated like he loved--with all his heart, and would go through fire and death to get at a foe."

"I believe Joe Bates' conduct was a fair specimen of that of the whole people of those parts, at that time," said Wilson. "I've been told that the whigs and tories had no mercy on each other."

"Not a bit," added old Harmar. "It seems to me that the fighting up here in the North was child's play in comparison with that in the South.

Every man on the American side that went into the battle of Eutaw Springs, was so full of courage and the desire of revenge that he was equal to two common men. Greene had difficulty in restraining their ardor within the limits of prudence. I heard of Colonel Henry Lee and his legion coming up with a body of tories who were a.s.sembled to march to the British camp, and his men would slaughter them without mercy, in spite of his efforts to restrain them."

"It was a b.l.o.o.d.y time," remarked Smith.

"G.o.d grant that we may never see its like again," added Morton.

"Up this way," said Wilson, "the tories were quite peaceable and respectable; and some of them were badly treated without any reason for it. They were honest men, and differed in opinion with those who judged the Declaration of Independence and the a.s.sumption of arms, necessary measures."

"Yes," replied Higgins; "its all very well for men to differ in opinion--n.o.body finds fault with that; its taking up arms against their own countrymen, and opposing their country's cause, that we grumble at.

We should all adopt Commodore Decatur's motto; 'Our country--right or wrong.' If she be right, our support cannot be refused; if wrong, we should endeavor to set her right, and not, by refusing our support, or by taking up arms against her, see her fall."

"Bravo!" cried Mr. Jackson Harmar. "There's the true patriotic sentiment for you. Allow me, Mr. Higgins, to shake hands with you over that sentiment."

The veteran patriot extended his hand, and received the hearty shake of the patriot of another generation.

STORY OF GENERAL WAYNE