YANKEE 
 VOLUNTEER! 
 
 M. I M LAY TAYLOR
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY O 
 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
 SAN DIEGO 
 
 presented to the 
 UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 SAN DIEGO 
 
 by 
 Douglas Warren
 
 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER
 
 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER 
 
 BY 
 
 M. IMLAY TAYLOR 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 "ON THE RED STAIRCASE," "AN IMPERIAL LOVER," ETC. 
 
 SECOND EDITION 
 
 CHICAGO 
 A. C. McCLURG AND COMPANY
 
 COPYRIGHT 
 BY A. C. MCCLURG AND Co. 
 
 A.D. 1808 
 
 All rigkts reserved
 
 Mrrttonntrlu 
 TO MY MOTHER
 
 AN INTRODUCTION. 
 
 KEPT sacredly in our family is the yellow manuscript 
 of the journal of my great-grandfather, John Allen, who 
 was a volunteer in the war of the Revolution. From 
 those worn pages inscribed in faded ink, I have selected 
 and arranged his account of the beginning of that great 
 struggle, which was interwoven with his own love-story. 
 The chief interest of the narrative, as it seems to me, 
 lies in the fact that it shows the early periods of the 
 Revolution as viewed by a soldier of Massachusetts who 
 shared all the privations and hardships of the struggle. 
 He was a plain and courageous man, devoted to his duty, 
 religious, and true to his strict training. Not a soldier 
 by education or by choice, but rather a man of peace, 
 yet devoted to the cause for which he drew the sword. 
 He came of Puritan stock, and looked askance at the 
 vices and the follies of the world of fashion. He served 
 with gallantry until the close of the war, and rose to dis 
 tinction in the Continental Army. 
 
 In giving these pages to the world, 1 must plead my 
 own interest in them as an excuse for my hope that 
 they may be of interest to others. 
 
 "JOHN ALLEN." 
 
 SALEM, 1898.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PACK 
 
 I. REMINISCENT u 
 
 II. A TORY AND A PATRIOT 15 
 
 III. JOYCE 23 
 
 IV. MY FATHER 32 
 
 V. I MEET EPHRAIM 37 
 
 VI. WE JOURNEY ON 43 
 
 VII. THE FIRST CONGRESS 50 
 
 VIII. I AM A CAPTAIN OF MILITIA .... 57 
 
 IX. DICK 65 
 
 X. AT THE OLD NORTH BRIDGE 70 
 
 XI. THE CALL TO ARMS 78 
 
 XII. SIR ANTHONY'S DEFIANCE 87 
 
 XIII. WITH THE MINUTE-MEN 92 
 
 XIV. AT THE SIGN OF THE SUN 99 
 
 XV. MY RIVAL 107 
 
 XVI. A MIDNIGHT VIGIL 114 
 
 XVII. THE CONFLICT 123 
 
 XVIII. THE CONTINENTAL CAMP 131 
 
 XIX. EPHRAIM'S PRISONER 140 
 
 XX. A PURITAN CONSCIENCE 149 
 
 XXI. I SURRENDER MY SWORD ...... 155 
 
 XXII. EPHRAIM'S VICTORY 163
 
 X CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PACK 
 
 XXIII. A TURN IN THE TIDE 170 
 
 XXIV. SUSPENSE 184 
 
 XXV. AN OLIVE BRANCH 193^ 
 
 XXVI. SIR ANTHONY AT BAY 201 
 
 XXVII. THE WHITE COCKADE 208 
 
 XXVIII. ROYALIST AND REBEL 218 
 
 XXIX. DEATH KEEPS HIS OWN ACCOUNT . . 228 
 
 XXX. I JOURNEY SOUTHWARD 239 
 
 XXXI. DOROTHY WAYNE 248 
 
 XXXI I. CORBIE'S TAVERN 256 
 
 XXXIII. CONSPIRACY CONFOUNDED 266 
 
 XXXIV. THE FORTUNE OF WAR 273 
 
 XXXV. Ax ANGEL OF MERCY 282 
 
 XXXVI. TIDINGS 293 
 
 XXXVII. LOVE'S ENTERPRISE 300 
 
 XXXVIII. A LOVERS' QUARREL 307 
 
 XXXIX. A YOUNG TURNCOAT 315 
 
 XL. RECONNOISSANCE 325 
 
 XLI. GENERAL HOWE 332 
 
 XLII. DOROTHY ONCE MORE 343 
 
 XLI 1 1. LOVE IN PRISON 350 
 
 XLIV. EPHRAIM WEARS THE KING'S UNIFORM 358 
 
 XLV. A DESPERATE CHARGE 365 
 
 XLVI. THE SUN SHINES THROUGH THE CLOUDS 374 
 
 XLVII. A ROYALIST SURRENDERS 379
 
 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 REMINISCENT. 
 
 MY earliest recollections are of the old house in 
 Salem. Through the great window in the hall, I 
 had my first glimpse of Massachusetts Bay. As a 
 child, I loved to climb upon the window-seat and 
 watch the shimmer of the sunlight on the water, until 
 my eyes were dazzled, and could no longer see the 
 gulls dipping in the spray. When the storm clouds 
 gathered angrily, piling up in purple masses, way off 
 behind the ocean, I watched breathlessly and counted 
 the waves, or tried to count them, as they rose and fell, 
 until the sea, grown gray and purple in its anger, was 
 breaking, breaking in white -caps, far as the eye could 
 reach. My childish mind, fed full on Scripture, recalled 
 always those words, " deep calleth unto deep." The 
 love and awe of the ocean grew with my growth, and 
 now, in my old age, the throbbing of the tide sends a 
 responsive thrill through my being, while the keen salt 
 wind upon my cheek revives both life and hope, even 
 when my spirit faints within me. 
 
 Always the ocean and the marshes, where the marsh 
 rosemary bloomed, and beyond these the nigged moor-
 
 12 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 lands, the gray bowlders breaking here and there through 
 the short turf, and behind all, the dark line of woodland ; 
 above, the sky, blue, with great drifts of soft white 
 clouds. Against this background, the slender, girlish 
 figure and the charming, tender face of Joyce. So I 
 think of her always, so will I think of her until I die. 
 So did I see her first, a little maid, with her hands full 
 of wild rose blooms and the bloom of the roses in her 
 cheeks, and I loved her, being but a lad myself. We 
 were little sweethearts, and I remember how I helped 
 her to gather shells upon the beach, and how the tide 
 ran up and kissed her rosy feet, her shoes and stockings 
 being high upon a rock where she had left them, safe 
 from the water. My love for her, born so early, colored 
 all my life. After all is said, we love but once thus 
 well. Come it soon or come it late, it comes but once. 
 Love, of a truth, has many names, as it has many faces ; 
 but pure love, God given, is but once in a lifetime and 
 to eternity. There is that which men call love, of 
 the world, of the flesh, of the devil, all these things 
 be ; yet is there but one love, and that I felt for Joyce 
 Talbot. And she loved me again, not so deeply as I, 
 how should she? but sweetly, tenderly, and, I thought, 
 truly, never doubting her but once, and then But I 
 must tell the story as it happened. We were happy in 
 each other and content with all the world, until our 
 hour of trial came, as it came to all in those days. 
 
 We colonists of the Massachusetts Bay were the first 
 to suffer and the first to draw the sword that was to 
 bring such misery to the land ; baptizing it in its own 
 blood, to a new life and to liberty. You who were not 
 born then or were children can never know the struggle 
 that it cost us to cut the ties of love and duty that 
 bound us, like threads of gold, to the Mother England.
 
 REMINISCENT. 1 3 
 
 When one oppressive act of Parliament followed upon 
 the heels of another, we awoke to the dark necessity 
 that was upon us. The -old sword and older musket 
 that had rusted on the wall since the Indian wars, were 
 taken down and polished, and, on every hand, men 
 looked in each other's faces for a friend or a foe, and 
 ofttimes they were of our own household or our 
 nearest kin. 
 
 My father, John Allen, for whom I was named, was 
 a judge of the Court of Massachusetts Bay, and my 
 great-grandfather was with Cromwell at Naseby. We 
 were Presbyterians of Puritan stock, and there was iron 
 in the blood. My father was for the Commonwealth ; 
 her father, Sir Anthony Talbot, was for the king; and 
 so it stood. But a twelvemonth before, Joyce was 
 promised to be my wife, but now there was neither 
 giving in marriage nor talk of it. 
 
 It was past midsummer ; the asters were blooming on 
 the moors, and the pokeberries were red as wine by 
 the wayside. In the morning a purple haze lay at the 
 horizon, and at noonday a golden light shone on the 
 uplands, and there had been a full harvest. It was late 
 in August, in the year of our Lord 1774, and the Port 
 Bill had closed the port of Boston. His Majesty's col 
 lector of customs was at Salem, and all the bay was 
 crowded with shipping, while in Boston the poor were 
 starving and the rich grew poor, since trade was cut 
 off and the troopers were quartered on the town. 
 Through the colonies of North America there was 
 the murmur of discontent, the low sound to arms. We 
 were treading on the edge of a precipice, and a touch 
 would hurl us in the chasm. Wise men pondered and 
 were troubled, while fools babbled in the market-place. 
 
 My h^eart was heavy, for Joyce and I were not of the
 
 14 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 same mind, and her father and her brother would find 
 a cause to quarrel with my opinions and my father's. 
 In those times men were ready to die for their con 
 victions, and many a tender tie was thus forever sun 
 dered. Verily, it seemed that the end of all things 
 was at hand ; yet the golden days went on, and the 
 tides rose and fell, while we watched and waited for 
 the hour. And over the seas the king, blinded by 
 fate, saw not the hand that wrote upon the wall.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A TORY AND A PATRIOT. 
 
 WELL do I remember the day when the first breach 
 in an old friendship was made. My father and I had 
 been all the forenoon in court, where the judges sat, 
 with the king's arms suspended above their heads and 
 their hearts heavy with the king's injustice. The court 
 house stood upon Townhouse Lane, and beside it, on the 
 corner of Essex Street, was the old First Church. Part 
 ing from our friends, my father and I walked through 
 the groups of curious townsfolk who stood gaping at the 
 door of the town hall, and passed on together down 
 Essex Street to our home. It was a perfect day ; there 
 had been a fog at morning, but, a fresh breeze blowing it 
 seaward, it floated like a long white feather between the 
 sea and sky. The ocean was calm and blue, with a 
 shadow of purple in the bosom of each gentle wave and 
 the sunlight glancing white upon its crests. The salt in 
 the air tempered the heat of midday, and the light wind 
 set the foliage of the elm-trees quivering. 
 
 My father's heart was full of many and deep anxieties, 
 and, mine being weighted too, we spoke but little as we 
 walked, and, indeed, it was a short way to our home. 
 The old house stood back a little space from Essex 
 Street, and a solid homely house it was. The main part 
 was square, and there was a wing on either hand, but 
 toward the rear, so that it was something shaped like 
 the letter T. The whole was of wood, and painted buff;
 
 1 6 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 it was two stories high, the roof flat, and many little 
 panes of glass in every window. The front door was 
 white, and on the upper panels was a scrollwork of roses 
 and leaves, and the great brass knocker was a lion's 
 head, grasping the ring in its teeth. This door was in 
 the center of the house, and the roof of the portico was 
 supported by four great pillars, white also, and fluted. 
 The garden before the entrance was ever in precise 
 and lovely order, for it was the charge and pride of my 
 Aunt Dorcas, my father's maiden sister, who ordered the 
 house, my mother having died when I was born. The 
 short turf was beautifully green, and on either side the 
 gravel path bloomed double rows of prim- faced asters, 
 in blue and purple and deep pink. A late climbing rose 
 twined its tendrils about one of the pillars of the portico, 
 and filled the air with its delicate fragrance. 
 
 As my father and I reached the gate, we perceived, 
 for the first time, the visitor before our door. He stood 
 there waiting, but bristling with impatience ; a portly 
 man, long past middle age, richly dressed and in the 
 finest fashion of the day, from his polished shoe-buckles 
 and black silk stockings with embroidered clocks to his 
 gay waistcoat and maroon velvet coat and breeches. His 
 countenance was rubicund, the full cheeks purpling to 
 ward the ears, and strongly marked black brows scowled 
 above small bright eyes ; his mouth was full, and there 
 was much full flesh below his chin, which rested on the 
 costly lace ruffles at his throat. His violent and aggres 
 sive temper, clear stamped upon his face, peeped out too 
 in every outline of his figure, and in the grasp he had 
 upon his heavy, gold-headed cane, which he held ever in 
 the middle and brandished like a club. My heart sank 
 at the sight of him ; coming so and upon that day, there 
 could be but one issue, and my father felt it too. He
 
 A TORY AND A PATRIOT. \"J 
 
 looked at me with grave significance, but said nothing, 
 save those two words : " Sir Anthony ! " 
 
 As we entered the gate, our visitor, turning about upon 
 the steps, saw us and came down to meet my father. 
 Sharp was the contrast between these two, both in bear 
 ing and in appearance, my father's manner being full of 
 grave reserve, of quiet dignity ; Sir Anthony's loud, 
 boisterous, domineering, and aggressive, as he was at 
 heart. 
 
 " A fair day to you, good neighbor Allen," he ex 
 claimed in his harsh voice. " I was going away when I 
 saw you." 
 
 ' I trust that you will never leave my threshold with 
 out tasting my hospitality," my father replied cour 
 teously. " Dorcas is within, and would have cheerfully 
 entertained you until my return." 
 
 But Sir Anthony's mind was dwelling upon other 
 things, and he scarce heeded this friendly response. 
 
 " I came to Salem upon a business errand," said he, 
 " and I find the town a hotbed of sedition. I could not 
 go away without seeing you. A magistrate should set an 
 example to these knaves, and teach them to respect 
 the royal authority." 
 
 My father was upon the steps and made no answer, 
 and I held my tongue. Here was likely to be trouble 
 enough ; and I, thinking of Joyce, strove to curb my tem 
 per and avoid the dispute. But Sir Anthony was eager 
 for the fray, and it is my belief that he did it all to try 
 my father. 
 
 " I have heard," he went on, " that John Hancock 
 and others will go to this Congress at Philadelphia, 
 this rebel hive ! It is an outrage, an insult to the 
 crown." 
 
 Still my father forbore to answer him a word. We had
 
 1 8 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 entered the hall, and I remember to this day how it 
 looked as we came in. It was low-ceiled and wainscoted 
 high with black walnut, and opposite the door was the 
 great window of my childish love ; outside it swung the 
 tendrils of a coral honeysuckle which had yet some sprays 
 of bloom, and beyond the bit of garden and the field 
 the bay sparkled in the sunshine. The floor of the hall 
 was polished, and the ceiling and the walls above the 
 wainscoting were tinted blue, like a robin's egg. The 
 sword that my great-grandfather wore at Naseby hung 
 above the fireplace, and there, too, was the shield that 
 another ancestor carried at Flodden. My Aunt Dorcas 
 greeted us in the hall, but we went on and entered the 
 library. A great room it was, lined on every side with 
 books, dear to me as old and faithful friends, and fur 
 nished with great chairs that invited you to rest. My 
 father motioned to his guest to be seated, and himself sat 
 down in his own chair by the table. His face was un 
 usually pale and grave, and he leaned his cheek upon his 
 hand as he looked at Sir Anthony. My father was a 
 handsome man, and it has ever been my greatest vanity 
 that I was deemed like him ; they called me his image, 
 but truly I know that I was never so well favored. He 
 was of medium height, and to the day of his last illness 
 powerful and vigorous, with broad shoulders and chest 
 and a noble head. His eyes were large and of a clear 
 brown color, hazel, I believe it is called, with a glance 
 that was marvellous penetrating yet withal kind. His 
 brow was fine, and he wore a powdered wig tied back in 
 a queue bag with black ribbons, which hid his own gray 
 hair, to my displeasure. He wore that day a suit of 
 black velvet with a waistcoat of brocaded satin, but not 
 gay, as was then the fashion, for his taste was sober and 
 he had long worn mourning. It was chiefly his look
 
 A TORY AND A PATRIOT. 19 
 
 and bearing that revealed the calm dignity of his exalted 
 character ; he stood foremost in the ranks of Massachu 
 setts statesmen. On that day he showed more than 
 his usual repose, as if he had prepared his mind to meet 
 the petty tempest of his opponent's temper. Eager to 
 avoid the quarrel, I took a place in the window recess 
 and held my tongue, with all the patience that I could ; 
 and truly it was a scene to watch without playing any 
 part therein, Sir Anthony having no mind to drop the 
 matter or to let it rest. 
 
 " We have reached a pretty pass," he went on 
 angrily. " Here is Mr. Gage struggling to keep the peace 
 in Boston, and sedition breaking out all over this colony, 
 and rampant, too, in Pennsylvania and Virginia. The 
 governor has thrust his hand into a hornet's nest, and the 
 air is full of noxious insects. It is time that every loyal 
 subject of the king should show his colors. It is doubly 
 important that you, Allen, should, as a magistrate, set 
 an example to these rebels." 
 
 " You use a hard word, Sir Anthony," my father 
 replied calmly. "The colonists of Massachusetts are 
 contending for certain inalienable rights. There is some 
 unadvised heat in their counsels, but, on the whole, it 
 appears to me that their course has been moderate." 
 
 " Moderate ! " exclaimed Sir Anthony hotly, the purple 
 deepening in his full cheeks. " On my soul, I am glad 
 you think so ! I have always regarded you, John 
 Allen, as an upright man, and I trust that you are jus 
 tified in making such a statement. These colonies 
 owe everything to England, and if you can find any 
 other name than rebellion for this seditious refusal to 
 .accept the acts of Parliament, right glad should I be to 
 hear it." 
 
 The lines about my father's mouth hardened, which
 
 2O A YAA 7 A'EE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 was a dangerous sign with him. Both men watched 
 each other keenly, and in my interest I well nigh forgot 
 my anxiety. It was a picture ; these two disputants 
 were as opposed by nature as they were unlike in 
 appearance, the flushed fat face and fiery eyes of the 
 old knight being in strange contrast to the calm stern 
 features and clear eyes of his opponent. 
 
 " We have agreed to differ once before, Sir Anthony," 
 my father said. " I feel too strongly on the chartered 
 rights of Massachusetts to discuss the matter from your 
 standpoint. Nor could you justify the decree to send 
 prisoners to England to trial for treason and misprision 
 of treason. That a man shall be tried by jury from the 
 vicinage, is a sacred right. An act of Parliament that 
 strikes at the root of the tree of liberty must be resisted. 
 I should be false alike to my conscience and my oath if 
 I counselled the colonists of Massachusetts Bay to sur 
 render the inalienable privileges of the citizen and the 
 divine rights of freedom." 
 
 " You say nothing, however, of the divine right of 
 kings," exclaimed Sir Anthony, bitterly. " Shame on you, 
 Allen, you have let the poison creep into your mind. I 
 believed you to be a loyal man, as you should be. A 
 magistrate of the king's and encouraging rebellion ! " 
 
 My father's cheek flushed deeply, and my face was 
 burning. 
 
 " I am still a loyal subject of the King of Great 
 Britain," my father replied haughtily; "but I will not 
 forget the duty that I owe to my God, my conscience, 
 and my country." 
 
 " In other words, Judge Allen," cried Sir Anthony, 
 passionately, " you are ripe for sedition. You approve, 
 I presume, of this Congress at Philadelphia?" 
 
 " So much that I purpose to be present," replied my
 
 A TORY AND A PATRIOT. 21 
 
 father calmly, forbearing to take offence at the violent 
 manner of his visitor. 
 
 Sir Anthony rose ; the blood had rushed to his face. 
 
 " You purpose going to Philadelphia with that rebel 
 John Hancock, to unite with these men who have 
 forgotten their allegiance? Nay, Allen, you jest ! " 
 
 My father's hands were resting on the arms of his 
 chair, and he leaned a little forward as he looked at his 
 friend's angry face. 
 
 " Sir Anthony," he replied deliberately, " I regard the 
 policy of the ministry as a violation of our liberty. I 
 am in full sympathy with every moderate act of remon 
 strance, and I am determined to defend the chartered 
 rights, not only of Massachusetts Bay, but of every 
 colony of North America. Unhappily, we have proved 
 the futility of petitions to the king; there remains a 
 higher duty than that of unquestioning obedience to the 
 crown. It has cost Great Britain nothing, in men or 
 money, to maintain her colonies here : the Americans 
 have been governed by the pen. If our allegiance is 
 shaken, the fault lies with the home government. No 
 patriotic man can surrender the liberties of his country 
 without a struggle, however deeply he may deplore the 
 hard necessity." 
 
 " In a word, Judge Allen, you are prepared to rebel 
 against your king," our visitor cried out with violence. 
 " I cannot see the difference between such a patriot and 
 a traitor ! " 
 
 My father rose at this ; but I, being filled with wrath, 
 could forbear no longer, and sprang up. 
 
 " Sir Anthony, this passes " I began ; but my father 
 silenced me with a stern gesture as he stepped 
 between. 
 
 "Sir Anthony is a guest in my house, and as such
 
 22 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 commands my patience," he said slowly ; " but no Allen 
 can endure that name, not from his dearest friend ! " 
 
 " Nay, be not bound by your hospitality," Talbot 
 retorted fiercely, reaching for his hat. " I have no love 
 for such fine courtesy. I am a plain man, and I see my 
 duty plainly. Fine words be far from me, but loyal sub 
 jects of King George have naught in common with the 
 rebels of Massachusetts. I bid you a good-day, sir." 
 
 My father bowed gravely, the fire kindling in his 
 brown eyes ; but he forgot not his dignity, nor that he 
 was a host. He was cooler, too, than I, at that moment, 
 and .saw beyond hot words the breach in an old friend 
 ship. With all the patience that was left me, I went to 
 the door and opened it for Sir Anthony, striving to 
 remember his white hairs and who he was ; and he, see 
 ing me, stopped short and stood a moment staring and 
 breathing hard. His great figure quivered with anger, 
 and his red face puffed out below the ears. 
 
 " As for you, sir," he said, " your engagement to my 
 daughter is broken. No Talbot weds a traitor ! " 
 
 I drew myself up proudly. " I will accept my dis 
 missal from no one but Joyce," I replied sternly. 
 
 "You will not, eh? " Sir Anthony eyed me fiercely. 
 " You shall have it from her, then, sir, you shall have 
 it, and that before another sunset." 
 
 My anger and another emotion, far deeper, rising in 
 my throat, I answered only with a grave bow, as he 
 passed out and went fuming through the hall into the 
 street. How easily is an old tie broken and a friend 
 turned into a foe, and at the moment, wrath blinding 
 the eyes, there is neither forbearance nor regret. But 
 after I had closed the door upon him and upon that 
 chapter of my life, I had no thought but of Joyce 
 and Joyce was his child.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 JOYCE. 
 
 THIS breach between my father and Sir Anthony was 
 but the beginning of my troubles. I had no mind to 
 let his violence come between me and my love, nor 
 did I believe that it would be so. It had been my 
 purpose to go to Joyce that day, but a heavy storm of 
 rain and lightning coming on delayed me, for the Tal- 
 bots lived not in Salem but at Marblehead. Therefore, 
 before I had started out upon my way, came riding, 
 post-haste, a messenger with this curt note from Sir 
 Anthony himself, 
 
 SIR, My daughter, Joyce Talbot, being herself loyal, 
 has neither love nor friendship for traitors, and, you being 
 such, she bids you farewell. . Nor need you seek her here, for 
 my door is closed on rebels. Bidding you good speed upon 
 your road which you have chosen to the devil, not I 
 sending you, but you yourself, I am, sir, 
 The king's loyal subject, 
 
 ANTHONY TALBOT. 
 
 Being angry, I tore the paper up, and, for the moment, 
 my heart was bitter against Joyce. I sent my horse 
 back to the stable ; surely, thought I, there shall be no 
 hard riding to-night upon a thankless errand ! Yet 
 before morning I had repented of my hasty resentment ; 
 I knew how unjust it was to judge her by her father, 
 who was a tyrant in his home, brooking no remon 
 strance, and had doubtless made her suffer for my sake.
 
 24 A YANKEE VOLUNTEEK. 
 
 At this thought my heart overflowed with love and for 
 giveness for her, and, anxious for a sight of her sweet 
 face, I was early in the saddle, and rode down Turner's 
 Lane to the Marblehead ferry, which had now accom 
 modations for horses, so that I could cross conveniently. 
 
 The boat went across to Haskell's Cove, a little west of 
 Naugus Head ; and there we landed, and I turned my 
 horse's head at once toward the town. Here, on either 
 side, were open fields, and the quiet of morning was 
 upon the scene ; in the salt meadows the cows were 
 grazing, and almost the only sound I heard was the bell 
 upon the leader's neck. Along the roadside the wild- 
 flowers were blooming side by side with the little white 
 everlasting which blossoms where the salt wind blows. 
 The fresh morning and the brisk trotting of my horse 
 set my blood stirring ; the anger and anxieties of the 
 night seemed but a dream, and no part or parcel of 
 this which was my life. Much in this world is naught 
 but hope, and without it we should perish miserably. 
 
 It may deceive us, how oft it does ! but if we saw 
 the reality, naked as it is, how few of us could live to face 
 it ! Hope is an angel, the brightness of whose face 
 blinds the eyes unto the chastening rod, hope and 
 charity, says the Apostle, and charity is love ; so love 
 and hope are twin angels, and without them we are not 
 in life, but death. Then my heart was full of tender 
 fancies, and I was not awakened yet to see that duty 
 lay between, and that I was called upon to choose. A 
 man full grown and sharing all, or nearly all, my father's 
 cares, and yet I was not roused. It came soon enough, 
 and broke the pleasant tenor of my ways ; but I was a 
 dreamer then, and happier so, for dreams are happier 
 than life. And dreaming of Joyce, I rode into the old 
 town upon the sea.
 
 JOYCE. 25 
 
 A large and populous settlement was Marblehead. 
 Here many a bold seaman was trained to battle for the 
 cause so soon to be an issue between man and his 
 brother. The town was perched high upon a rocky 
 promontory with battlements of rugged cliffs, and below, 
 the Atlantic beat and throbbed in ceaseless monotone. 
 Wind-swept, and moist with driving spray, the gray and 
 weather-beaten houses of the fisher folk nestled upon the 
 rugged hill, and the streets, which were but the old 
 foot-paths and cow-paths of the first settlement, were 
 twisted in a maze ; but on every hand bloomed homely 
 flower-gardens which seemed to draw a richer beauty 
 and a deeper fragrance from the heavy dews and the 
 salt air. Here and there large and fine mansions 
 bespoke the richer townfolk, and Saint Michael's 
 Church stood in the midst. 
 
 Heeding not Sir Anthony's admonition, I rode straight 
 to his door, and there dismounting gave my horse in 
 charge of a village lad, who knew me, for I had little 
 hope of a hospitable reception, yet was determined to 
 see my sweetheart. I searched the house with my 
 eyes as I approached, in the hope of seeing her, but 
 there was no sign. It was a double house, two stories 
 high, with a gabled roof and pointed windows, and the 
 front faced the road and the rear overlooked the sea. 
 The brown shingled roof was weather-stained, and great 
 brick chimneys rose at either end between the gables ; 
 the great hall ran through the center, with a door at 
 either side, and the house stood in the midst of a flower- 
 garden, while at the back was the orchard. One of the 
 old servants, answering my summons, told me with much 
 sorrow that I was forbidden, and then, because of his 
 sympathy and my persistence, whispered that Joyce 
 was gone down by the water, where I would find her.
 
 26 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 Knowing well her favorite nook, I went upon my way, 
 though my blood was hot at the thought that I was 
 refused admittance to her home, which had been as a 
 second home to me. I passed around the house, in 
 defiance of Sir Anthony, and walked through the gar 
 den to the gate. Beneath the windows bloomed late 
 roses and sweet peas, and raindrops still sparkled on 
 the velvet faces of the pansies. Hollyhocks bloomed 
 beside the rich-hued asters in one corner, while in the 
 other red geraniums grew before the low fence that was 
 hidden by the clustering beauty of the gay nasturtiums, 
 trailing their golden blossoms, storm-beaten, in wild 
 confusion ; the round leaves turning in the wind until 
 the under sides showed like whitish green disks against 
 the brilliant flowers. Beyond these, in the kitchen 
 garden, the yellow pumpkins peeped out from under 
 their broad leaves, where the vines had escaped from 
 among the corn-stalks and were running riot in the 
 long grass ; and farther yet, was the orchard, where the 
 pear and apple trees were laden with fruit. Beaten 
 by the tempest, branches lay upon the ground, and here 
 and there an apple or a pear half mellow, fallen in the 
 wind. Looking through, between the trees, I could 
 see the stretch of the Atlantic and the keen line of the 
 horizon, where the ocean, darkly blue, came sharply 
 against the opalescent hues that softened the blue rim 
 of the sky. I passed out the wicket gate, and turning 
 from the town went down the beaten path toward 
 the cliffs. The harbor was empty, for the fishing- 
 smacks had gone out with the early morning, and 
 from the wharves came only the shrill voices of children 
 at play. My way lay along the water's edge, and below 
 me the rocks were broken in deep rifts, where the 
 waves beat and the spray rose and fell. Green turf,
 
 JOYCE. 27 
 
 starred here and there with wild-flowers, grew on the 
 cliffs above, and sometimes a hardy blossom showed its 
 face in a crevice upon the sheer side of the battlement. 
 The tide was going out, and inch by inch the brown 
 seaweed rose higher above the water, its long twisting 
 strands and yellow bubbles glistening in the sun 
 shine. Here and there a starfish lay beached upon a 
 rock, and in the deep still pools left by the retreating 
 waves were tiny fish ; farther out, the sea-gulls darted 
 in the spray. Before me was the point of land that 
 runs out from Marblehead itself and twists like a finger 
 in the sea, sheltering the harbor ; and beyond was the 
 vast stretch of the deep. 
 
 In this solitary spot, where the great cliffs formed a 
 sheltered nook, alone with her dog as a guardian and a 
 companion, was Joyce. Seeing her before she saw me, I 
 paused, watching her with a full heart, thinking that I had 
 never seen her half so fair or sweet, or with so sad a 
 shadow on her lovely face. What she was and how she 
 looked to me is ever hard to put in words, yet the picture 
 that she made that day was framed in my heart forever. 
 She sat upon a rock, resting her chin in the hollow of 
 her hand and looking at the sea, while at her feet lay 
 Laddie, the great collie dog. When she was standing, 
 I know not what her stature was, but, as Shakespeare 
 has it, she stood " just as high as my heart ; " and she 
 was slender, with a grace that reminded me of some 
 tall reed swaying gently in the breeze, and her face 
 was like a rose, soft-tinted, delicately white and red. 
 In her cheek was one deep dimple, where the angel 
 had kissed her, as the legend runs. Her hair was 
 brown, with touches of gold where it rippled on her 
 brow and neck, refusing to obey its careful training; it 
 was the fashion to wear it dressed marvellously high
 
 28 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 with flowers and powdered, but being in the country, 
 and because I liked not the fashion, she seldom wore 
 it so. Her eyes I have never known their color ; 
 sometimes they were gray, with the shadow of their 
 black lashes in them, and sometimes, they were blue as 
 an August sky, but always, to me, the loveliest eyes in 
 all the world. On that day she wore a soft gray frock 
 with a snowy kerchief folded upon her bosom, and over 
 her curls was tied a scarlet hood. She sat there 
 dreaming, her eyes upon the sea, and knew not that 
 I watched her until I, stirring, set a pebble rolling and 
 Laddie heard it and sprang up, running to me with 
 short barks of joy, for the creature loved me, and I 
 him for her sake. At the sound of his glad greeting, 
 which she knew was meant for me, Joyce turned quickly, 
 and her eyes shone blue, as I have seen a wildwood 
 violet when it is wet with dew. The look she gave 
 me sending all my anger and wounded pride from my 
 heart, I came down the cliff to her side, and, we being 
 alone with only th'e wide sea below and the sky above, 
 I caught her in my arms and kissed her, and she clung 
 to me with more than her wonted tenderness. Holding 
 her so, I told her what she knew already, that I was 
 denied admittance at her father's house and of his 
 letter; her silence for the first time warning me that 
 she was in doubt and trouble. She drew back from my 
 embrace and looked wistfully into my eyes, her own 
 grave and perplexed. 
 
 "John," she began slowly, this new gravity sitting 
 strangely upon her, " what is it that you have done ? 
 Surely, the King of England is your king as well as 
 mine, and you will not be disloyal." 
 
 " Why should we speak of it, Joyce ? " I exclaimed ; 
 " the king cannot come between you and me. Truly, 
 if we love each other that is all in all ! "
 
 JOYCE. 29 
 
 " Nay," she said, " I love you, but my love should be a 
 loyal man and true." 
 
 Now this speech of hers was a sharp sting to me, and 
 the pride that was in my blood was stirred. 
 
 " I did not think to hear such words from you, Joyce," 
 I said with quick reproach. 
 
 " Nor did I think that you would be unfaithful to your 
 king," she cried. 
 
 " Nor am I," I answered her ; " but the king or the 
 king's Parliament and men say both is cruelly un 
 just to the colonists, and cannot honest men, free English 
 men, protest without meriting the name of traitors?" 
 
 "And wherefore?" she said hotly; "is tea so great a 
 thing?" 
 
 Then I laughed, for truly it was like the wilful little 
 maid to reason so ; but my laugh fretted her, and she 
 turned her face away. 
 
 " It is not the threepence duty on tea, dear heart," I 
 argued; "who cares for that? It is the principle in 
 volved ; we are not represented, we cannot be legally 
 taxed. We colonists contend but for our rights. I 
 know Sir Anthony calls it disloyalty, but such disloyalty 
 has saved the state of old. Do you believe that I 
 or my father would do that which is contrary to our 
 consciences? " 
 
 She stood thinking, her rosy lips pressed together as 
 if she longed to speak but would not, and I watched 
 her, loving her, but with a man's slow understanding of 
 her mood. 
 
 " But you approve of these meetings to oppose Mr. 
 Gage?" she said; "you are preparing to resist the 
 decrees of the government?" 
 
 " Unhappily we must," I declared sadly, " there being 
 no alternative ; but what is that to you and me, Joyce?"
 
 3O A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 Then she raised her head proudly with a queenly air, 
 as I had seen her in rare moments of anger. 
 
 "I am a Talbot," she said gravely, "and no Talbot 
 ever loved a traitor." 
 
 This was more than I could bear. 
 
 " I cannot take that name, even from you, Joyce," I 
 cried in heat. " I am no traitor, but a freeborn American, 
 and I can be nothing more than I am, even for you, 
 whom I love better than my life." 
 
 " Your great-grandfather saw the head of King Charles 
 fall on the block," she said bitterly; " perhaps you would 
 see King George's there also." 
 
 " Many wiser have fallen there ! " I declared more 
 hastily than advisedly. 
 
 " Ah, sir ! " she said with a flash of wrath, " you are a 
 traitor." 
 
 The blood burned in my face, and my temper, as quick 
 as hers, betrayed me. 
 
 " Nay," I said, " no traitor, but I see that you would 
 be quit with me." 
 
 " I will not wed a rebel," she replied, pressing her 
 hands together but holding her head high. 
 
 "Then, Miss Talbot," I said haughtily, "you are of 
 like mind with your father, and will no more of me." 
 
 She stood regarding me with a strange look which I 
 thought was cold ; for a moment she did not speak, and 
 then, 
 
 "When you are a loyal subject of your king," she 
 said with pride, "you may seek Joyce Talbot. He 
 who is disloyal to his king may well be disloyal to his 
 love." 
 
 Her words cut like a knife, and with a burning face I bent 
 my head gravely before her, as before a queen, and turned 
 away ; yet I had taken but few steps before my love and
 
 JOYCE. 31 
 
 my regret overwhelmed me, and turning, I caught her 
 hand and kissed it. 
 
 " Farewell, dear heart," I whispered low, " and may 
 God bless you." 
 
 But she, averting her face, spoke not a word, and only 
 Laddie leaped upon my knee. Putting away the dog, I 
 left her and went along the footpath to the village with 
 a great lump in my throat and my heart like lead. Thus 
 it is that lovers quarrel, loving still.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MY FATHER. 
 
 ALTHOUGH the day was bright when I rode back to 
 the ferry, and birds were twittering in the hedgerows, 
 the world had never worn so dark an aspect to my eyes. 
 In all our childhood, spent together, and our youth, 
 Joyce and I had never quarrelled, and the sudden break 
 brought all the sharper pain. Sir Anthony's letter, 
 which I had taken for the outburst of a peevish and 
 violent old man, was now colored with a deeper mean 
 ing. Mayhap he knew his daughter's heart better than 
 I. Then, too, that devil jealousy awoke to fret my 
 spirit ; there was a certain subaltern in the king's army, 
 Francis Beresford, who I knew looked on Joyce with 
 open devotion, and the thought arose that it might be 
 that she regarded him with new-born favor. So, having 
 the wound already, I found a sure way to probe it and 
 keep it bleeding fresh. Truly, we are our own tor 
 mentors ; no man need have a greater than he can find 
 in his own heart. Wheresoever I turned my eyes, her 
 face rose before me, like a vision, with that new strange 
 look upon it, and bitterly as she had wounded my pride 
 I loved her at that moment more than ever ; but I set 
 my teeth and rode on, never looking back, though* I had 
 left my happiness behind me, as it seemed, forever. I 
 knew my duty now; sternly it rose before me, grim- 
 visaged and unrelenting. Not even for her sake could 
 I deny my own convictions or violate the dictates of my 
 conscience. But a little while before, war had seemed
 
 MY FATHER. 
 
 33 
 
 a hard necessity, but now the commonwealth might call 
 me, claim me as its own. The tender tie that had 
 bound me with golden fetters was rudely severed, and 
 the soldier's life was a refuge and a solace. The old 
 familiar surroundings henceforth would be haunted with 
 only the phantom of my love. 
 
 Dreaming thus sorrowfully, I rode homeward, and 
 Booked with strange eyes upon the well-known scene. 
 Unconsciously I checked my horse on the crest of the 
 little hill, above the ferry, that looked down upon the 
 town. Salem lay before me ; its harbor, a half-moon in 
 shape, close crowded with ships until their naked masts, 
 thick clustered, seemed a floating forest, and above the 
 Custom House proudly waved the British flag. The gray 
 roofs and shingled gables of the houses, sober as Puritans 
 in Sunday garb, seemed rather to resist the sunlight than 
 to bask in it, as if the lesson, stern and bitter, learned 
 long ago, was corroding any new-born happiness or cheer, 
 while over yonder loomed, grim and threatening, Gallows 
 Hill, where they hung the witches. Yet was there ever a 
 sweet and homely aspect to the town of Salem, which 
 is peace, and we who knew it best, loved it most 
 deeply, forgiving it its sins past, present, and to come. 
 Less bleak than Marblehead, lying low and sheltered, 
 with the soft tints of gray and green in the surrounding 
 moorlands, the town looked out upon the waters of 
 Massachusetts Bay, and landward lay the forest, guard 
 ing the settlement with outstretched arms of birch and 
 hemlock and spruce ; and here, with blood and fire, 
 raged once the Indian wars. Because my heart was 
 sad, I fell into this revery, and remained there long, 
 looking down upon my home, yet dreading to face the 
 familiar spot and see the well-known streets that I 
 would walk henceforth with a changed future stretching 
 
 3
 
 34 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 out before me with no Joyce in it. After a space my 
 horse, weary of standing, started upon his way, as if he 
 knew and pitied his master's weakness. He brought 
 me to the ferry, and, after we had crossed it, went on to 
 the gate on Essex Street and there whinnied, as he did 
 always when he came home. In the garden Aunt Dor 
 cas was trimming her flowers, and glanced up as I dis 
 mounted, her face full of timid sympathy. Knowing of 
 the quarrel with Sir Anthony, she divined the truth, or 
 part of it, and was full of tenderness. No lover of flesh 
 and blood had ever wooed this dear old gentlewoman, 
 and she had still youth's unspoiled illusions. I believe 
 the vision of a ghostly lover was laid away on the top 
 shelf of her heart much as she would fold a kerchief, 
 with a sprig of lavender between it, in her bureau 
 drawer. She looked at me with warm affection in her 
 tender, short-sighted eyes, and paused in her work> an 
 aster hanging half clipped between her scissors. 
 
 " Have you seen our Joyce? " she asked timidly. 
 
 " I have seen Miss Talbot," I answered gravely ; and 
 she, reading it all in my face, said no more, but bent 
 over her flowers and let me pass, knowing too well that 
 words are but poor consolation. 
 
 I strode on into the house, and sought my father. 
 All my life he had been my greatest comfort and my 
 truest friend. More were we like brothers than like 
 father and son. My mother's death was a cruel be 
 reavement, and he centered all his love upon her child. 
 We Aliens came of faithful blood, strong and steadfast 
 in our attachments, unswerving to the end. I found 
 him in his study, with some papers lying open before 
 him, and anxiety in his grave aspect ; but being selfish, 
 as we are in trouble, I told him all my grief, receiving 
 his sympathy and counsel, before I heard his trials. It
 
 MY FATHER. 35 
 
 was less of his own perplexity than of the grave perils 
 of the commonwealth that he spoke at length. He was 
 a man who loved peace, but in a righteous cause would 
 draw his sword, never to sheathe it until justice was 
 vindicated. He referred sadly to this breach between 
 my love and me as only one inevitable consequence of 
 the approaching struggle. Even then, I think that he 
 grasped the magnitude of the impending revolution, 
 though others, like myself, were blind. 
 
 "Brother will rise against brother, and father be 
 separated from son," he remarked mournfully. "The 
 sword will be sent amongst us, and yet do men rush 
 gladly forward to war as to a festival. God knows how 
 these colonies may survive the conflict, but He will 
 defend the right." 
 
 Then he went on to speak more fully of the Congress 
 at Philadelphia, whither we were both going in two days 
 at farthest, for it was a long and tedious journey and the 
 roads were bad. My father had been chosen to go 
 to this assembly by the good people of Salem, and he 
 was greatly troubled thereat, not from lack of courage 
 or good-will, but even because a wise man sees farther 
 and grieves more over the consequences that will be 
 than a shallow pate who has only bravado. As yet the 
 Tories only fumed against the meeting as seditious. 
 The best of them was not keen enough to see how 
 deeply a people must be stirred to take such measures, 
 for Englishmen are slow to move, and have no natural 
 love for running contrary to authority. It is that slug 
 gish quality in our blood which makes us, as a nation, 
 law-abiding and tedious, wherein we differ from the 
 French ; but in those days the French, too, were stirred 
 with the coming of troublous times. The old knave, 
 King Louis XV., was dead in May, and his poor grand-
 
 36 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 son Louis XVI. was new then on the throne, and knew 
 not that he walked upon the edge of a great precipice 
 slippery with the favor of a fickle people and the gaudy 
 splendors of a court rotten to the core and putrid with 
 vile immorality and oppression of the poor. Times 
 were changing the world over, and King George III. 
 chose that season to be blind, and to close his ears to 
 the eloquence of Chatham and to the just petitions of 
 his colonists. All the solid men in old England, too, 
 pleaded in vain. A foolish king and his more foolish 
 ministers were the instruments of Providence to set a 
 people free. 
 
 It was well for me in those hours that my hands were 
 full ; and though I could not drive Joyce from my thoughts 
 waking or sleeping, yet I had work to do and strove to 
 do it well. My father, understanding my sorrow and 
 my needs, had, too, a way with him that made me feel 
 his sympathy without words, and he only warned me 
 against quarrelling with her brother, Richard Talbot, 
 Dick, as we all knew him. He was the king's soldier, 
 a wild, warm-hearted lad who had a touch of his sister's 
 beauty and much of his father's temper, so that only in 
 avoiding his company could one of another way of 
 thinking escape a disagreement. For her sake, and 
 the love I bore her, I had no wish to pick a quarrel with 
 Dick, and so I took some pains to shun him while I 
 stayed at Salem, which was not long. On the second 
 day from that on which my love sent me away, I and 
 my father and one servant rode out of the town upon 
 our way to Philadelphia to the Congress, which was sum 
 moned for the fifth of September. Mr. Adams and John 
 Hancock went also, from Massachusetts Colony, but we 
 had so arranged that we must journey nearly all the 
 way alone.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 I MEET EPHRAIM. 
 
 WE set out upon our journey in the morning, and leav 
 ing Salem behind us, rode through Danvers, where Mr. 
 Gage lived in his summer house, and passing out we 
 went on our way to Lynn. Serene and lovely was the 
 aspect of the country, with the beauty of the midsummer 
 upon it. The short turf on the moors sparkled with the 
 morning dew, and the color of blossoming was deepen 
 ing on the heavy heads of the goldenrod, which clustered 
 thick in the hollows of the meadows. Behind the up 
 lands, the deeper greens, that had robed the woods in a 
 close mantle, took on a russet hue, and yonder the tip 
 of a solitary branch was dipped in blood red, like the 
 finger of a savage. Here and there, amidst the trees, 
 showed the gray shingled roof and smoking chimney of 
 some farmhouse, and when we drew near, the farmer 
 ploughing for the September wheat, stopped his plough in 
 the furrow to gaze at us, divining something of the nature 
 of our errand ; not the simplest yeoman being ignorant 
 of the cause we had at heart. A mob of peasants, the 
 British called us ; yet in these hardy sons of toil lay the 
 bone and sinew of the colonies, which was to outlive 
 the great struggle coming on. Peaceful was it then, with 
 no sign or token of the agitation which had set the pulse 
 of the nation throbbing, as with fever ; and the pity of it 
 seemed that there was any prospect that grim-visaged 
 War would stalk along these fertile fields in the tracks
 
 38 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 of that great husbandman Peace. My father spoke of 
 this with tenderness and regret, of the cruel drain that 
 war would be upon the resources of the young country ; 
 yet neither he nor I saw any course but one, in which 
 our duty and our honor were alike involved. It was 
 this singleness of purpose, uniting the colonists, which 
 made that long resistance possible. 
 
 It was well for me that these thoughts and many like 
 them kept my mind from dwelling upon Joyce and the 
 loss of her ; yet so obstinate is love when it is rooted in 
 the heart that all through that long journey, on so grave 
 an errand, her face travelled before me, and I saw it 
 sometimes between me and the ocean and again look 
 ing up amidst the wayside flowers which she loved. 
 
 We travelled on, and coming to Lynn before noon, 
 stopped there to bait our horses, for we were to ride 
 the ten miles and more to Boston and lie there over 
 night. Beyond Lynn the roads were heavy from the 
 recent rains, and the journey was more slow and tedious, 
 though our horses made better speed than those with 
 vehicles, since we met Mr. John Hancock riding in a 
 sulky, and after the greetings were exchanged left him 
 far behind us and entered Boston toward evening, 
 having spared our beasts. A strange sight it was, too, 
 the town wore so desolate an aspect. The sun was 
 setting when we crossed in the ferry from Winniset, and 
 rainbow tints were mirrored in the waters running quiet 
 through the reeds; the sharp cries of the water fowl 
 came from the marshes, and away out at sea the sails 
 showed scarlet like ships on fire in a glowing ocean, 
 while the harbor and the wharves were naked. When 
 we landed at Hudson's Point, we saw that grass had 
 started between the cobbles on the streets beside the 
 warehouses which had been but lately alive with the
 
 f MEET EPHRAIM. 39 
 
 trade of England and the Indies. All men wore sober 
 faces, and beggars flocked about us, for the poor were 
 starving. The scarlet uniforms and clash of arms told 
 their own story ; the troops were quartered everywhere, 
 contrary though it was to the laws of Massachusetts 
 Bay and the spirit of the Commonwealth. The call of 
 the bugle and the challenge of the sentry were new 
 sounds in the time of peace. 
 
 The sullen aspect of the townsmen should have been 
 a warning that this stiff-necked people would endure 
 no more, but a fatal blindness obscured the sight of 
 men in high places. My father pointed out all these 
 signs of the times, as we rode forward, speaking too of 
 the empty houses, many shutters being up and many 
 spots deserted, although the Tories were coming into 
 the city from the outlying districts, where men looked 
 askance at those who held for the ministry ; we colonists 
 would not yet say that it was the king who so oppressed 
 us. It was on Ann Street that a ragged creature, lean- 
 visaged and hollow-eyed, stopped my horse to beg, 
 and my father gave him a handful of coins, and when 
 we had passed, told me that the man had been employed 
 at the wharves and was earning his livelihood before 
 these cruel times ; he now stood, a living example of 
 the sin of the Port Bill and the recent acts of Parliament. 
 
 We did not purpose to tarry in Boston, but would 
 lodge that night at Wetherby's Tavern at Menotomy. 
 First, however, my father was bound to attend a meeting 
 at the Old South Meeting-house ; and as we approached 
 it, we saw a crowd gathered there of people of all con 
 ditions and of both sexes, but quiet and orderly. There 
 was a town meeting assembled ; the government had 
 issued an act prohibiting these assemblages after the 
 first of August, but the act had been evaded. The
 
 4O A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 meetings were convoked before the forbidden period, 
 and kept alive indefinitely; the people of the colony 
 would not bow their necks to the oppressor's yoke. 
 My father drawing rein amidst the crowd, I halted too, 
 and presently, after some parley with the keeper of the 
 door, we dismounted and with bare heads entered the 
 old meeting-house that was to be one of the cradles of 
 the country's liberty. 
 
 Within, the scene was grave indeed ; the long benches 
 were filled with sober and dignified personages, and the 
 glow of sunset, shining through the windows, fell upon 
 faces lined and stern with the responsibility that op 
 pressed these men who were to deliberate and fight for 
 a nation. Mr. Samuel Adams presided on that day as 
 moderator, and knowing my father called him to a seat 
 beside him, while I found a place near the door, being 
 not unwilling to evade a tedious discussion, if I saw the 
 opportunity to slip away, having in those days but small 
 relish for debate. Dr. Warren, a man much esteemed, 
 was discoursing on public rights and public measures, and 
 his audience listened with a grim and stolid patience, 
 making no sign, after the fashion of New England 
 people. There is iron in the blood of Massachusetts, 
 but no fire, and it seemed impossible that these silent 
 men were hovering on the borders of revolt against the 
 crown; yet so it was, and thus was Governor Gage 
 disarmed and baffled. There was here no mutiny, no 
 deed of violence that the hand of the law could grasp, 
 but revolution was in travail, and the hour of its birth 
 was drawing nigh. While Dr. Warren was still speaking, 
 the sunset glow faded and the first soft shadows of the 
 summer twilight fell within the building ; in the silence 
 his voice sounded with peculiar eloquence. 
 
 While the discussion was yet in progress, I left the
 
 / MEET EPHRAIM. 41 
 
 meeting, not because my heart failed to respond, but young 
 blood is impatient and besides I was troubled in spirit. 
 The throng without, more patient than I, still waited, and 
 I was even forced to press my way to reach my horse. I 
 had left the animals in charge of our servant, but when 
 I reached them, found a strange man holding mine. 
 Odd enough too was this new groom of the stirrup, and 
 I observed him as he led the horse away from the crowd 
 that I might have the space to mount. The stranger 
 was of uncommon height, being nigh seven feet, and 
 with a lank and lean exterior, his joints large, and his 
 feet giving him an assured understanding. His head 
 was long and thickly covered with red hair, and his high 
 cheek-bones and long jaw were ugly enough without 
 the hollows in which his small blue eyes were set. His 
 clothing, which had never fitted him, was worn and 
 faded at the seams, the waist of his long-tailed green 
 coat was midway up his back, and his small clothes 
 were far too small ; his high boots were wrinkled, and 
 had slipped down at the ankles, revealing the leanest 
 pair of legs I had ever seen. Yet was there something 
 in this strange figure that arrested the smile upon my 
 lips and awoke my interest. He held my horse, and I 
 mounted in silence, being disposed to let him speak his 
 mind, for I saw that he had a purpose in the service that 
 he rendered me. 
 
 " You are Judge Allen's son," he said in a drawling 
 nasal voice, " I know ye. I come from Salem or 
 thereabouts." 
 
 I told him gravely that his face was unfamiliar to me. 
 
 " Likely it be," he rejoined calmly, stepping back from 
 my horse and standing with his hands thnist deep into 
 his pockets, his little blue eyes twinkling, " I 'm not often 
 at town meetings there. When this talk is run out,
 
 42 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 though, and we settle down to fighting, I allow I '11 be 
 there. I stopped around a bit to tell you that I 'd join 
 your company." 
 
 The thought was new to me, and I started. He, see 
 ing the change come over my face, smiled in a grim 
 way. 
 
 " Had n't thought of it, had ye ? " he said slowly ; " but 
 you have the make of a soldier, and I admire to see it." 
 
 " You would be of my company, then? " I asked, smil 
 ing, for the suggestion amused me. 
 
 " That 's what I spoke for," he replied briefly ; " when 
 you need me, remember that my name is Ephraim Minot. 
 I fought the Indians with Colonel Washington of Vir 
 ginia, and I can shoot somewhere nigh the mark, when I 
 choose." 
 
 With these words Ephraim made me a strange salute, 
 and, turning away, mingled with the throng and was lost. 
 So it was that I met the first private of my regiment.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 WE JOURNEY ON. 
 
 WE had purposed a short stay in Boston, but the aspect 
 of the town, and the tidings that my father gathered 
 from the chief men there, were such that we decided to 
 push on at once upon our journey. It stung the pride 
 of a free-born American to see the city so cast down and 
 hear the boasts of the authorities and the Tories, who 
 were worse, a thousand times, than any of the British. 
 A force of infantry and artillery was quartered on the 
 Common, and Boston Neck swarmed with the redcoats. 
 An honest man could scarcely walk at midday free of 
 insult and contumely, and the troopers had a ribald jest 
 at every sober-faced citizen, knowing such to be for the 
 colony. While there, I learned that Dick Talbot had 
 been ordered up from Marblehead to join his regiment, 
 and would be stationed in Boston. His name, so promi 
 nent in the Ministerial cause, reminded me of the breach 
 that widened day by day between us, and I seemed to 
 see Joyce standing far off with that proud defiance on 
 her young face which it had worn when we parted. 
 My love, mine against the world by virtue of the love I 
 bore her, yet mine no more. I remember how bitterly 
 I looked upon the redcoats as we rode past them, along 
 Boston Neck, to cross the Mystic to Cambridge. Here, 
 then, were the living symbols of the oppressor's cause, 
 here were the men that we colonists must fight and 
 conquer or lose our liberty. Both my father and I
 
 44 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 experienced a sense of relief when we had left the 
 town behind us and rode out in the open country, where 
 there was no harsher sound in our ears than the scythe. 
 We took the road to Springfield, and made such good 
 progress that we rode through the Connecticut valley 
 toward Hartford in good season and without mishap. 
 Our road lay through the broad and level meadows that 
 were not rugged, as with us, but fine pasture-land, slop 
 ing down from either side to the noble river that flowed 
 through them. The valley is shut in by hills that at 
 that season were beautiful with all the foliage of mid 
 summer, and showed far less of the early touches of 
 autumn than the woods at home. The bluejay and 
 the bobolink were in the fields, and from the river we 
 heard the call of the kingfisher. It was a spot to 
 bring peace to a troubled breast, and here we forgot for 
 a brief space the country's trouble and our own. 
 
 Yet in these tranquil solitudes came tidings of the evil 
 times to come. It was here that we were joined by an 
 acquaintance, who rode with us to Hartford and told us 
 that trouble was brewing in the valley of the Mohawk. 
 Sir William Johnson, his Majesty's agent for Indian 
 affairs, had died on the eleventh of July ; but it seemed 
 that before his death he had received orders to enlist the 
 Indians against the colonists, and his son Sir John and 
 his son-in-law Sir Guy Johnson were prepared to obey 
 the commands that had so greatly troubled Sir William. 
 Now, this family had much influence with the Six Nations, 
 and the Mohawk sachem, Brant, was their ally, so that it 
 was not difficult to see how grave would be the conse 
 quences. Such were the measures that our king was 
 taking against his people, who had sinned only in peti 
 tions for justice and in resistance of unjust taxation. 
 
 From Hartford we rode to Yale, and thence through
 
 WE JOURNEY ON. 45 
 
 Harrington over a bad road to Litchfield, where we lay 
 that night. From Litchfield it was a two days' journey 
 to Danbury, where we decided to take the Fishkill Road. 
 The next day we set out after noon in a rainstorm which 
 waxed so violent that after five miles in the tempest, on 
 a muddy road, we stopped at a wayside tavern and were 
 forced to abide there until morning. A homely place it 
 was, and a cheerful shelter from the driving storm, rustic, 
 too, in its simplicity. The goodwife bade us welcome 
 warmly, and ushering us into a room where the family 
 had gathered, gave us each a smoking bowl of broth 
 which was right welcome after the chill rain. Tea they 
 had not ; the patriots of all classes denied themselves 
 this drink. Long ago now, yet I remember well the 
 cheerful scene. The good woman had her spinning-wheel 
 in the chimney-corner, and when we were served, she set 
 it humming ; beside her a young girl, her daughter, had 
 her wool-card, and the goodman of the house was mend 
 ing harness. In the corner, on a long bench, where 
 there was much space left, sat the eldest daughter and 
 her lover, a young farmer who had walked forty miles to 
 visit her and bring her some early apples. They sat 
 smiling foolishly, with red cheeks and downcast eyes, and 
 when they thought the others were engaged in talk, he 
 pressed her hand ; but words were few, though he had 
 walked so far to tell her that he loved her, for love has a 
 language without utterance. Foolish as it was and rustic, 
 it cost me a pang when I saw how faithful was this simple 
 heart and remembered Joyce. 
 
 From this rural spot we went the next day on to 
 Fishkill to cross the Hudson ; despite the delay, we felt 
 that our progress had been excellent, and now we had 
 again the promise of fine weather. When we reached 
 the village of Fishkill, it was full noontide, and we stopped
 
 46 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 fo bait our horses. Many travellers were there, and we 
 rode the six miles more to the ferry in genial company ; 
 but the beauty of the scene drew my attention from the 
 talk around me. Here the noble river flows a broad 
 and placid stream, and the meadows and the foothills 
 were beautifully green. Newburg bay stretched out 
 before us, its placid tides gleaming like silver in the 
 sunshine, and the heights rising nobly before us, for we 
 stood there at the gate of the Highlands. Around us 
 were orchards of ripening fruit and broad fields, where 
 the scarlet tassels of the corn stirred gently in the 
 breeze. 
 
 We crossed the Hudson to Newburg and there dined, 
 pressing on from thence upon our journey. We were 
 no longer alone, having fallen in with acquaintances at 
 Fishkill who were also bound to Philadelphia; from 
 them we gathered tidings of the increasing trouble 
 through the colonies. Virginia had shown her sym 
 pathy with Boston at the assembly of the House of 
 Burgesses, although the governor Lord Dunmore was 
 much esteemed in the province. In the spring of the 
 year he had abruptly dissolved the House of Burgesses 
 because of a resolution protesting against the closing of 
 the Port of Boston and other acts of Parliament, but the 
 Province of Virginia was still active in expressions of 
 sympathy. We heard now, too, a great deal of one Mr. 
 Washington of Mount Vernon, who was with Braddock 
 and had won much reputation in the wars with the 
 Indians; the same man of whom Ephraim Minot had 
 spoken. We knew a little of this Virginian already, 
 from the letters of the Reverend David Mosson, once 
 rector of Saint Michael's Church at Marblehead, and 
 who was, though of different faith, a warm friend of my 
 father. Dr. Mosson had been called from Massachu-
 
 WE JOURNEY ON. 47 
 
 setts to Virginia, and there married Mr. Washington to 
 a widow, Mrs. Custis by name. Mosson was a warm 
 admirer of Washington, and wrote, with enthusiasm, of 
 his fine character and military achievements. It ap 
 peared that this Virginia hero was prominent in this 
 time of trouble, and there was much curiosity to see him. 
 On inquiry we found that he was expected to appear at 
 the Congress, and men looked to him as to a leader, 
 since he was reputed brave and judicious. My father 
 was especially anxious to learn something of the possible 
 leaders at this assembly, since his gravest fear was that 
 rash counsels would prevail and our cause be jeopardized 
 at its birth. From Massachusetts there would be 
 astute and noble counsellors, and John and Samuel 
 Adams were of our delegation. 
 
 Although the weather continued propitious, the latter 
 part of our journey was both tedious and uneventful. 
 We tarried but one night in New York, and from there 
 went on to Hoboken, where we were delayed by a pass 
 ing lameness of one of our horses. The tavern was 
 most wretched, and we slept on straw-filled ticks for 
 beds ; we could have proceeded in the stage, but could 
 not abide this uncomfortable way of travelling. It was 
 a six days' journey, and the stages were Jersey wagons, 
 and mighty hard, for they bumped and shook with every 
 jolt ; the white canvas covers were stretched over hoops, 
 high in front and rear and dipping in the middle, to 
 which many a traveller's head bore witness. The floors 
 of these vehicles were covered with straw, and it was sad 
 comfort to lie in it, nigh a week; the wheels, too, 
 revolved in boxes, and must be greased with tar, which 
 was kept in a bucket suspended beneath the wagon, 
 and sometimes did smell as we are told the pit does 
 which awaits the sinner. The linchpins often fell out of
 
 48 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 the wheels and let the axle down, tumbling the passen 
 gers out, like cherries out of a basket; and when the 
 wagon stuck in the road, all the male travellers must get 
 out and push and pull it through. These things being 
 so, we waited for our horse to mend, and it was the 
 fourth of September before we crossed the Delaware 
 and entered Philadelphia. Coming into the city at 
 evening, we found it crowded, and gathered but little 
 information, for we were travel-stained and weary. We 
 put up at a tavern called the London Coffee House, on 
 High and Front streets, and found there many grave 
 and eminent gentlemen who had come upon the same 
 errand. Here we learned that the Provincial Assembly 
 was sitting in the State House, and the Congress had 
 even accepted quarters where they could be found. 
 The hall of the Honorable Society of Carpenters, on 
 Chestnut Street above Third, had been tendered, and 
 there would the delegates assemble in the morning. 
 That night, Colonel Charles Lee, of his Majesty's service, 
 came to the coffee-house and talked loudly of the affairs 
 of the country. He was a large, florid man, very ill- 
 dressed, who always took the lead, discoursing upon 
 war and peace as though he loved the first and despised 
 the latter. There were strange tales floating in the 
 public-room of his career in Poland and Russia; but 
 many seemed to hold him in high esteem, and he 
 amused the company by making his dog sit up and 
 shake hands with Mr. Adams. 
 
 " Both truculent and rash," my father said to me, as 
 we talked apart, " and no safe guide for these distressed 
 provinces ; yet such aggressive speakers sometimes push 
 to the helm and bring disaster." 
 
 But excitement ran high then, and men talked freely 
 of war, if remonstrance failed, as men will at supper when
 
 WE JOURNEY ON. 49 
 
 the blood is warmed, and then repent in the morning. 
 The timid counsellor and the waverer are ever bravest 
 at the table. So, in talk some grave and some 
 empty as the cackle of a fowl, the night wore on and 
 the morning of a new resolution dawned.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE FIRST CONGRESS. 
 
 EARLY the next day, I opened the shutters of my 
 window and looked out upon the street ; the scene was 
 quiet and peaceful, and little suggestive of the dawn of 
 an auspicious day. On the corner of the street a rosy 
 country-maid was peddling milk, the custom of selling it 
 then in Philadelphia, and women and children ran 
 from every quarter with pails and pitchers for the day's 
 supply, their voices sounding shrill as they chaffered 
 over their purchases. It was a homely scene, the first 
 stirring of the city in the morning ; but in a short while 
 there was a gathering of another character, for it had 
 been bruited about that the delegates to the Congress 
 would meet at our quarters, and a crowd soon collected 
 at the door of the coffee-house. 
 
 As my father's clerk, I was to be admitted to the as 
 sembly, and therefore attended him when the delegates 
 did finally assemble and walk in solemn procession up 
 the street to the Carpenters' Hall, which stood at the 
 end of an alley off Chestnut Street. There was now a 
 great throng, and even the little boys stared gravely, 
 while from the windows many a fair face looked down, 
 some in derision, being Tories, some with approval and 
 coquetry, for in the gravest moments a woman still re 
 members the dimple in her cheek or the beauty of her 
 slender wrist. There were"] also many Quakers, who 
 looked on us askance, having then no love for the cause
 
 THE FIRST CONGRESS. 51 
 
 which seemed to them wild radicalism. They are not 
 fighting men, but rather men of peace ; yet afterwards 
 some of them did espouse our cause and defend it right 
 zealously. It was not strange that at the first such men 
 should hold aloof, so great was the abhorrence of any 
 thing that seemed disloyalty to the king. The break 
 that was to come, of necessity came slowly, since men 
 were not yet ripe for the thought of an absolute inde 
 pendence. Gazed at by the throng, pointed at by some 
 and applauded by others, the procession went calmly 
 on, until it came to Carpenters' Alley ; there before us 
 was the hall, a brick building, two stories high, with a 
 cupola upon the roof. In the center was the door, 
 painted white, with five stone steps leading up to it, and 
 an arch of small-paned glass above. On either side of 
 this door were two square windows, and over it, in the 
 second story, three arched ones in a row. Coming to 
 this plain building, we entered soberly enough, and found 
 it a small place, well lighted by windows on all sides , 
 against the walls were ranged bare wood benches, and 
 at the upper end was placed a rude desk for the presid 
 ing officer. Thus poorly situated, the delegates began 
 their business with some heaviness, all men now realiz 
 ing how grave was the crisis. Here were met the most 
 learned and able representatives of the country ; men 
 of fortune, of ability, learning, and acuteness. The oc 
 casion was solemn ; the liberties of the provinces were 
 in the balance, and largely, if not wholly, dependent upon 
 the resolutions of this assembly. Every man felt his 
 responsibility, although each expressed it in a different 
 way, the sharp contrast between the members being one 
 of the most interesting features of this first parliament of 
 the colonies. 
 
 The opening day was devoted to preliminaries only,
 
 52 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 and gave an opportunity for the delegates to meet each 
 other. The Adamses were both present, and Mr. Peyton 
 Randolph, whom we knew by reputation, and young 
 John Jay and Richard Henry Lee, and at last, too, 
 we saw Mr. George Washington. He impressed me 
 strongly; he was a large man, of a grave and noble 
 countenance, and with a bearing both dignified and re 
 served. His appearance inspired confidence and invited 
 friendship, for his blue eyes were kind and his manners 
 gentle. He was slow in speech and movement, and did 
 not, like many there, court public notice or popularity. 
 
 During the day a rumor reached us that Boston had 
 been cannonaded by the British ; it proved false, but 
 for the time called forth deep feeling, and drew the dele 
 gates together in mutual sympathy. On the morning of 
 September seventh the assembly was opened with prayer 
 by the Reverend Mr. Duch6 of Philadelphia, who was se 
 lected on the motion of Mr. Samuel Adams. The scene 
 was impressive ; the morning light streamed into the 
 little hall, and Mr. Duche, in full canonicals, read the 
 morning service of the Church of England. We of 
 Massachusetts, sorely troubled over the rumors of the 
 cannonade, listened with bowed heads to the beautiful 
 words of David, 
 
 " Awake, and stand up to judge my quarrel ; avenge 
 thou my cause, my God and my Lord. 
 
 " Judge me, O Lord my God, according to thy right 
 eousness ; and let them not triumph over me." 
 
 Truly the words of the Psalter went to our hearts, and 
 we were deeply moved also when Mr. Duch6 made an 
 eloquent prayer for America, and especially for the Prov 
 ince of Massachusetts Bay. The feeling of a common 
 brotherhood and a single cause stirred in the bosoms of 
 men from many colonies, and a solemn silence fell upon
 
 THE FIRST CONGRESS. 53 
 
 the august body. Then arose, in the midst of the as 
 sembly, a tall figure ; a raw-boned man, coarsely clad and 
 with swarthy features, his black hair unpowdered, and 
 his dark eyes strangely brilliant. He began to speak, 
 and at the first faltered somewhat, and men asked who 
 he was. It was Patrick Henry of Virginia, the same 
 who had startled the House of Burgesses by declaring 
 that " Caesar had his Brutus, Charles his Cromwell ; and 
 George the Third may profit by their examples." Elo 
 quent and noble was his oration, and we listened with 
 hearts thrilled with emotion to his bold advocacy of the 
 rights of the colonies ; hearing with admiration that 
 voice that in a few short months was to exclaim " An 
 appeal to arms and to the God of Hosts is all that is 
 left us ! " With noble impetuosity he made his plea for 
 the liberties of his country, and when he took his seat 
 he was no more unrecognized ; men had heard the 
 greatest orator in America, and they looked on him with 
 affection and with pride. 
 
 Fifty-two days did Congress deliberate, and so wise 
 and so moderate were the documents given to the 
 world that even the great statesman Chatham com 
 mended the representatives of the colonies, although 
 lesser minds were ready to believe only evil of men who 
 sought their country's sacred rights. An association was 
 formed by which the patriots bound themselves to a 
 non-importation, non-consumption, and non-exportation 
 agreement. In thus striking a blow at the commerce of 
 the mother country, seemed to lie our greatest hope of 
 success, and the assembly also addressed a loyal petition 
 to his Majesty, although we had already proved the fu 
 tility of such appeals. Indeed, the rumor was current in 
 Philadelphia that King George hated America, and was 
 more bitter against his colonies than were his ministers ;
 
 54 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 yet it seemed strange that a monarch should look with 
 so little favor on the brightest jewel in his diadem. So 
 careful and so astute was the discussion of all these sub 
 jects that Mr. John Adams told my father that it re 
 minded him of Queen Elizabeth's Privy Council. Colo 
 nel Washington won many friends, too, in those days, for 
 his wisdom was well proven, and, though a man of few 
 words and slow in speech, he spoke always with moder 
 ation and justice, and many a heart turned to him then, 
 as to a natural leader. His voice was always raised to 
 support a just measure or to condemn a rash project, and 
 through all he never faltered in his country's cause. We 
 of the Massachusetts Bay were as warm in our regard for 
 him as were his fellow delegates from the Province of 
 Virginia, although we did not then foresee the station to 
 which a wise Providence would call him in a few short 
 months. Not that wise men were without premonitions 
 of the inevitable result of the strong measures which had 
 been adopted, but, as it will be ever, men predicted 
 without the thought of the early fulfilment of their proph 
 ecies. When the sword, that now was by a hair sus 
 pended, fell swiftly, the feeling was, on all sides, that it 
 was sudden and all too soon ! Yet events were march 
 ing on, and great were the changes in those fifty-two 
 days ; the young country was growing apace, like a new 
 born child. I remember my father's words when, after 
 the adjournment of Congress, we rode otot of Philadel 
 phia in the last days of October. 
 
 "We must fight," he said simply, after a pause in 
 which we had been looking at the forest and the river 
 with many thoughts in our minds, and not all of them of 
 Nature's beauty ; " the ministry will never forgive us for 
 the truths we have uttered." 
 
 "Ay, that may be," I assented, not without sadness;
 
 THE FIRST CONGRESS. 55 
 
 "but we are but a handful of undisciplined people 
 against the armies of the crown. Our prospect of success 
 seems small." 
 
 My father turned to me with a noble composure that 
 was a rebuke to my momentary faintness of heart. 
 
 " Our cause is righteous," he said gravely ; " the 
 issue is with Almighty God." 
 
 And this was the spirit of the colonists. 
 
 We had already received grave tidings from Massachu 
 setts. On the first of September Governor Gage had 
 issued writs for a general election to be held at Salem, 
 but so great was the popular agitation that he counter 
 manded it by proclamation. The people of the colony, 
 disregarding the order, carried the election and voted 
 themselves a Provincial Congress. John Hancock was 
 chosen president, and the assembly convened at Con 
 cord, some twenty miles from the great guns which Mr. 
 Gage had placed on Boston Neck, and that were at 
 once an insult to the people of Massachusetts Bay and 
 an excuse for their determined action. The first pro 
 ceeding of the Congress was a protest against the gover 
 nor's violation of the chartered rights of the colony and 
 the menace to the lives and possessions of the good 
 people of Boston. 
 
 We were much delayed upon our homeward journey, 
 and were forced also to make a detour to avoid Boston, 
 now full of Tories and crowded with the British troops, 
 which were not tolerated elsewhere in the colony. The 
 Provincial Congress had sanctioned the organization of 
 the militia, and the countryside was arming, quietly but 
 with no less determination. Wherever we tarried, even 
 for an hour, the rustics flocked about us for tidings of 
 the great assembly at Philadelphia, and my father was 
 well nigh worn out explaining and exhorting with these
 
 56 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 simple folk, who had no arms but the pitchfork and the 
 old musket with which their fathers fought the Iroquois 
 and the Mohawk. We were a full month on the road, 
 and entered Salem in November ; the first sight of home 
 bringing back to me the thought of that angry parting 
 and of Joyce, and my soul cried out against the fate that 
 parted us.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 I AM A CAPTAIN OF MILITIA. 
 
 STIRRING times leave small season for repining, and 
 I returned to find enough of work for one man's hands 
 to do. The Provincial Congress had appointed a Com 
 mittee of Safety, which was to superintend the organi 
 zation of the militia on a war footing, and Ephraim 
 Minot's prophecy was soon to be fulfilled. I was called 
 upon at once to recruit a regiment in Essex County, and 
 with a heavy heart responded to the summons. Not 
 that the profession of arms was distasteful to me, but I 
 seemed to see a chasm widening every day and hour 
 between my love and me. Her brother was with 
 the army in Boston, and old Sir Anthony would have 
 been there also but for his infirmities, gout having laid 
 hold of him with little mercy. I, on the other hand, 
 was buckling on my sword to fight for the Province of 
 Massachusetts Bay. 
 
 My company, soon fully formed, was something of a 
 curiosity, for the most part, rustics, in singular ap 
 parel, yet expert marksmen, for they had lived much 
 with their fowling-pieces in their hands and they pos 
 sessed in a large degree the one quality most required, 
 rugged determination, and were therefore willing pupils 
 in the school of war. Myself a novice, it was no light 
 task to organize these yeomen and train them to disci 
 pline. My father, a man of peace, could aid me but
 
 58 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 little with his counsels, and many a weary hour of prac 
 tice made me but feel the greater blunderer. We used 
 to drill upon the moors beyond Gallows Hill, and the 
 snow was trampled down in a square by our manoeuvers, 
 yet my soldiers had a hopeless disregard for my author 
 ity, and but strange conceptions of military tactics. In 
 my despair came at last a helper. It was one wintry 
 evening, in the first part of December, and darkness 
 had set in at five o'clock. My soldiers escorted me 
 home, and my father bade them enter the great dining- 
 room, now little used, but once the scene of gay festivi 
 ties. It was a part of the old house. Captain Miles 
 Standish had dined here, and here Cotton Mather 
 came one day to strive with and persuade my grand 
 father, old Judge Allen, to condemn to burning a Salem 
 witch. It was a long, low room, with small windows, 
 barred once against an Indian foray, when this was the 
 only room of the log house ; the great chimney filled all 
 the end of it, and there was only one little door oppo 
 site, and one, yet smaller, opening into the kitchen. 
 Over the main entrance hung the breastplate and steel 
 bonnet of my great-granduncle, Josiah Allen, who marched 
 with Standish into the wilderness, and was at last 
 scalped by an Iroquois, when he was walking unarmed 
 but a short distance from his home : thus does fate find 
 us unprepared. 
 
 My father and Aunt Dorcas had set out a feast for 
 my rustics, and they partook of it with appetites made 
 keen by their sharp exercise. The scene was strange 
 enough : these honest yeomen, in their homespun clothing, 
 standing about the table and proving themselves valiant 
 trenchermen, while at the head was my father, enter 
 taining them with grave courtesy and that kindness 
 which sprung from his large heart, for never saw I yet
 
 I AM A CAPTAIN OF MILITIA. 59 
 
 a lack of courtesy without a want of heart. Suddenly 
 the door at the farther end opened and a tall figure 
 entered. The hum of talk ceased for the moment, 
 while we all looked at the gaunt stranger, in his high 
 boots and shabby small clothes, his long green coat 
 outlined on the seams with a light powder of dry snow. 
 His red hair and short-waisted coat awoke my dor 
 mant recollection, and I responded gravely to his formal 
 salutation. 
 
 "So you have come at last, Mr. Minot?" I said 
 quietly, as if my memory had never played me the 
 trick of allowing the thought of him to escape. 
 
 "Just came back from Boston," Ephraim replied, 
 " and stepped over to enlist." 
 
 " Father," I said gravely, " this is Mr. Ephraim 
 Minot, of Essex County, who fought with General Brad- 
 dock and with Mr. Washington against the Indians." 
 
 Every eye turned curiously to follow the strange 
 figure in the short-waisted coat, as he walked up and 
 shook my father's hand. 
 
 " Glad to see you, judge," he said with great com 
 posure ; " you were with the Assembly that refused to 
 transact business while the town of Boston was in the 
 hands of soldiers ; you had the sympathy of the country 
 folks, sir, and now I 'm going to fight beside your son 
 here." 
 
 " The evil day has not yet actually dawned when we 
 must draw the sword against the mother country, Mr. 
 Minot," replied my father, " but I thank you for your 
 approval, and I am glad to see you here to-night." 
 
 " I always heard say," struck in one of my militiamen, 
 abruptly, " that the folks with Braddock ran away." 
 
 Ephraim turned deliberately, and eyed the speaker 
 with quiet scorn. Then he walked up to the rustic
 
 60 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 and stood facing him, his hands, as usual, thrust into 
 his pockets and his elbows squared. 
 
 " I was looking for the wart on your nose," he re 
 marked suddenly, " and I be darned if it ain't there ! 
 You 're Jacob Trueman, and you were with us on that 
 day, I remember it well ! To be sure, gentlemen, this 
 is my old friend Jacob. On the day of the great fight, 
 when the first naked devil began to whoop and yell, 
 Jacob disappeared, and when we found him, after it was 
 over, he had no wound on the front of him, nor on the 
 back, for that matter; but an arrow was stuck clean 
 through the tails of his coat, hit him slanting as 
 he ran." 
 
 A shout of laughter rose at the expense of the 
 hapless Trueman, who stood there with a burning face ; 
 but Ephraim never moved a muscle, and his small 
 blue eyes were dull and pale. 
 
 From that hour his ascendency in the little company 
 was assured. The men, with the exception of Trueman, 
 regarded him as a hero ; and, to my amazement, I found 
 him an excellent drill- master. He was more in touch 
 with his fellow soldiers than ever I had been, and could 
 enlist their sympathy and hold their attention when I 
 was but a dull and awkward teacher. In that strange 
 coat, with an old black beaver, looped up in front and 
 resting on the back of his red head, he would drill and 
 train the little corps with untiring zeal, and a quick eye 
 to each man's ability. I watched him, day by day, with 
 an undiminished interest, for here was a natural military 
 genius in a strange disguise. He had formed an attach 
 ment too for me, and was destined later to show a 
 dogged faithfulness in his devotion. So it was that a 
 lieutenant was furnished me without an effort on my 
 part, and in a few weeks I had reason to regard my re-
 
 / AM A CAPTAIN OF MILITIA. 6 1 
 
 emits with complaisance, although their appearance was 
 still odd enough in their motley garments, and with their 
 old muskets of unequal size and age. I had the conso 
 lation that other companies were no better off; it was 
 not until the next year that we had uniformed militia at 
 Salem. Then there arose one marvellous fine com 
 pany clad in short green gold-trimmed coats, and wear 
 ing black gaiters, and having ruffles about their wrists, 
 their caps of black beaver with a white ostrich feather 
 in each. But these gay gentlemen remained not long 
 organized. Mayhap their clothes were too fine. I will 
 make no comment on the white feather, though it caused 
 much merriment ; yet they were brave fellows, for all 
 that, and commanded by one Captain Sprague. But 
 although we had no such finery, few could equal my 
 men in drill, and none excel them in marksmanship. 
 Ephraim, being a sharpshooter, kept them at target 
 practice, though they stood in little need thereof. 
 
 War was my business, but did ever Love neglect his 
 chosen victim? I found occupation, but never forgetful- 
 ness. Every day my eyes turned to the Marblehead 
 ferry, yet my stubborn pride forbade a journey thither. 
 I knew from the talk of my aunt that the Talbots were 
 yet there, all save Dick. Sir Anthony was shut up a 
 prisoner with gout, and at such seasons he was a terror 
 to the household. Through the winter's dreariest 
 months I fought my passion, though making no effort 
 to force my heart from dwelling on what I chose to call 
 the memory of my love ; and the face of Joyce smiled 
 upon me in my dreams. It may be that I would have 
 sooner relented if it had not been for rumors that the 
 good folk at Marblehead were frequently offended by 
 the presence of an officer of his Majesty's service ; not 
 Dick, but Mr. Beresford, who gossip said was like to
 
 62 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 wed with Joyce Talbot. In my heart I never believed 
 that she would turn so lightly to another, but I the more 
 delighted in tormenting myself with my imagined 
 wrongs. If she could be so soon false, I told myself, 
 she never had been true ; yet her blue gray eyes, like a 
 summer sky half clouded, haunted me both day and 
 night. I knew my nature to be stubborn, but I had 
 never known how deeply it could hold the roots of its 
 affections and refuse to give them up. Yet every week 
 I drilled my yeomen with Ephraim's aid, and set my 
 teeth, vowing that the little Royalist should never have 
 the opportunity to scorn a patriot and a soldier; but, 
 alas for me ! the hours were dull indeed. 
 
 One day, in February, when the snow lay white upon 
 the land, and the forest trees, bare of foliage, were 
 sheathed in a beautiful garb of ice, sparkling like crystals 
 in the sun, I was walking alone toward Town Landing, 
 when I met my father, coming in the same direction. 
 We walked together for a little space in silence, and 
 then it was he who spoke. 
 
 "John," he began, with one of his rare sweet smiles 
 which lighted his brown eyes so pleasantly, " I have 
 been talking with Joyce." 
 
 I turned a startled glance upon him. It was long 
 since one of us had spoken with a Talbot, five months 
 at least, and I knew that Sir Anthony was bitter 
 against us. 
 
 "She was here in Salem two hours ago," my father 
 continued. " I met her on Turner's Lane near the 
 ferry, where the carriage stood waiting for her. She 
 had only her woman with her, having come upon some 
 errand, and was as shy of me as any startled fawn ; yet 
 after a while we talked together freely, and she walked 
 up and down with me in the lane. My son, the little
 
 / AM A CAPTAIN OF MILITIA. 63 
 
 maid loves you still, and I doubt not that her father 
 makes the house unhappy with his evil temper, driving 
 them all before him like a flock of sheep." 
 
 Now my heart had leaped up at his words, but I kept 
 still a grave countenance and bent my eyes upon the 
 ground. 
 
 " It was she who dismissed me," I said proudly, " of 
 her own free will, for Joyce is not timid like Lady Talbot. 
 She can cajole Sir Anthony as no one else would dare." 
 
 "Ay, that may be," replied my father, quietly, "and 
 yet it may be not all of her own will. A young maid 
 is hard to understand, and sensitive as any flower that 
 folds its petals at a careless touch. We must remember 
 too her training, and how dimly she can understand our 
 point of view. Sir Anthony is a Tory of the Tories; 
 to him a Whig is a compound of the Puritan and the 
 devil, both intolerable. I could gather something of 
 her mind from the grave questions that she put to me 
 in all good faith. She asked me if it would not be a sin 
 to fight against the king, and if we she intended all 
 the colonists would dare to draw the sword." The 
 judge smiled sadly. " Poor child ! to her such action 
 is an enormity." 
 
 "Did she listen to you with patience?" I inquired, 
 picturing these two in their grave argument. 
 
 "With patience, but scarcely with full comprehen 
 sion," he replied gently. " Her mind is keen enough, 
 but prejudice blinds the eyes. We parted however with 
 good-will on either side, and she kissed her hand to me 
 as the carriage drove away." 
 
 " She ever bore you a sincere affection," I said with 
 half a pang of jealousy. 
 
 He smiled tenderly as he replied, " And I ever loved 
 the little maid."
 
 64 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 The next day being the Sabbath, I had my horse 
 saddled in the afternoon, and crossing the ferry rode to 
 Marblehead. I would even see my love once more, I 
 thought, and have the matter settled once for all. If 
 she loved me nothing should part us, not even the king 
 himself if he stood between. Thus bravely did I think 
 of it, and urged my horse forward on the frozen ground, 
 which rang like stone beneath his iron hoofs. There 
 was a bit of road approaching the town that lay straight 
 across the moors and in sight of the spire of Saint 
 Michael's. It was at this open spot that I saw two 
 figures before me, walking by the roadside. Something 
 in the man's bearing that suggested the lover drew my 
 notice to them from the first ; but so absorbed were they 
 in each other that neither saw me, nor heeded my ap 
 proach. It needed no long scrutiny to recognize them ; 
 the man was Beresford, the woman Joyce. Only 
 when I passed, did she turn a startled face and our 
 eyes met. My horse went a few paces more before I 
 turned his head sharply and, half drawing rein, made 
 her a grave salute and rode by them slowly. After 
 wards, touching spurs to my poor beast, I galloped back 
 to the ferry, a sharp sting at my heart and rny pride on 
 fire.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 DICK. 
 
 AFTER seeing my love forgetful of me, and so lightly 
 won to look upon another's suit with favor, I hardened 
 my heart against her, letting all my doubts of her have 
 mastery, and so thrust the little faithful star of hope into 
 outer darkness. The sky was no more blue to me, nor 
 did the sun sparkle upon the broad waves of the bay ; 
 the cloud in my heart obscured the brightness of the 
 world without. In the weeks that followed, I was a sol 
 dier only, and the king had no more violent opponent 
 than I was then ; his Majesty's uniform was hateful to 
 my eye, and I became a most determined Whig. I 
 locked the secret of my discovery in my own heart, tell 
 ing no one, and I think that my father marvelled greatly 
 that his talk with me of Joyce had brought so poor 
 results. 
 
 While I was still sore from the wound inflicted, I was 
 destined to yet another trial, and from a Talbot too. 
 One dull afternoon I had been out with my militiamen 
 and was walking home alone. I had climbed the steep 
 ascent to the summit of Gallows Hill, which is a small 
 sharp eminence, its surface broken with the edges of 
 gray bowlders, with the open moors on one hand and on 
 the other, Salem. On the barren height I paused a 
 moment and looked out over the white landscape with 
 only the brown of the naked woodland to break the 
 sheen of frozen snow. Bleak and rugged is the spot, and 
 
 5
 
 66 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 swept by the salt wind, and I found small comfort in the 
 prospect. Turning my face toward the town, I de 
 scended slowly, and at the foot of the hill came suddenly 
 on a British officer, the smart scarlet of his uniform 
 and the erectness of his figure challenging attention. It 
 was Dick Talbot, and the sight of his face startled me. 
 Like Joyce, he had inherited his mother's beauty, but he 
 had also his father's temper. He had the same wavy light 
 brown hair and fair complexion, but his eyes were more 
 boldly blue than those of Joyce, and he lacked her 
 beauty of expression ; yet was he a fine young fellow, 
 and had the jaunty air of a dandy. I had always a 
 warm place in my heart for Dick, for his sister's sake, 
 and I greeted him as a friend still, in spite of the differ 
 ences between the families ; but he drew himself up with 
 insolent hauteur and eyed me coldly enough. 
 
 " Nay, Mr. Allen," he said with a boy's bravado, " I 
 have no hand to give, save to the king's good subjects. 
 The hour has come when we must know the true and the 
 false." 
 
 " Have it your own way, Dick," said I, with forbear 
 ance, " but I forget not my friends so easily. A short 
 memory runs in your family, though, I believe." 
 
 His cheek burned, for he had a choleric temper. 
 
 " I do not understand you," he flashed out hotly j " no 
 one shall speak lightly of me or mine. I thought you a 
 man of peace, no soldier, but what is that you wear 
 at your side, sir? " 
 
 It was now my turn to flush, for Ephraim had insisted 
 that I should wear my great-grandsire's sword, famous at 
 Naseby, and as I was fresh from drill it hung at my side. 
 
 " It is a season when men must wear their weapons 
 and learn to use them too," I replied with more heat 
 than wisdom.
 
 DICK. 67 
 
 Dick's lip curled scornfully, and he assumed a mock 
 ing manner. 
 
 " I have heard," he said bitterly, " but I did not credit 
 it, that you were in command of a company of plough 
 men and haymakers arrayed against the king." 
 
 " A company of honest yeomen," I answered, " not 
 arrayed against his Majesty, but ready to resist the Min 
 isterial army in its unjust and unlawful aggressions." 
 
 " Ton my soul," Dick exclaimed, " I did not think to 
 hear such hypocrisy save from some long-eared Puritan ! 
 The ' Ministerial army ' ! A damnable invention to de 
 ceive the people ! The king's army, since we hold the 
 king's commission to whip his rebels from here into the 
 wilderness." 
 
 " Be not too hasty," I replied, controlling my own 
 rising passion ; " it is easier said than done, as some may 
 find it to their cost. We men of Massachusetts Colony 
 are minded to resist the oppressor with steadfast pur 
 pose, and such resistance has prevailed before." 
 
 " You are a traitor, sir ! " he cried in a headlong 
 passion, his blue eyes on fire ; " and it is you, and such 
 as you, that sow rebellion in these Provinces." 
 
 " What will you do? " I answered tauntingly, for I was 
 full of angry folly ; " we are free men, and you cannot 
 gag our utterance nor choke our demands of justice." 
 
 " We can whip you to obedience," he said between 
 his teeth. " Draw," he added fiercely ; " unless you be 
 a coward as well as a traitor, we can fight this to the 
 issue." 
 
 His sword flew from its scabbard, these young gal 
 lants of the royal service loved an appeal to the duel ; 
 but even in the midst of my own blind folly and anger, 
 I saw the look of Joyce on his face, and no power could 
 prevail against that dear resemblance.
 
 68 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " Put up your sword," I said coldly ; " I have no 
 quarrel with Richard Talbot." 
 
 He was furious, and could ill brook the thought of 
 being balked in his purpose. He tried to lash me to 
 madness. 
 
 " Then are you indeed a Yankee coward ! " he cried 
 scornfully, " or it may be that you have not learned to 
 use the sword of your damned Puritan ancestor." 
 
 " Have done, Richard," I said proudly, " and let me 
 pass. I would not harm a hair of your head. The 
 insults you pour upon me are unworthy of you." 
 
 His better nature was half shamed, and he gave place 
 a little, so I passed him. 
 
 "When will you fight me?" he called after me, and 
 I turned upon him gravely. 
 
 "Never," I said firmly; "you are the brother of Joyce 
 Talbot." 
 
 " Now, by heaven ! " he cried out with fresh passion, 
 " her you shall not have ! Joyce should wed the 
 blacksmith in the royal army before she married a 
 traitor ! " 
 
 "Nay," I said with sudden proud composure, "con 
 trol your anger, boy. Your sister is not a chattel in 
 your hands, and your lips should learn to honor her 
 too much for such comparison. If she loved me, no 
 opposition of yours should bar the way." 
 
 He laughed harshly, his handsome boyish face dis 
 torted by his temper ; yet a graceful picture in his 
 scarlet coat and buff breeches, his high boots and pol 
 ished spurs, his hat set with a rakish air upon his pow 
 dered peruke, his hand on his half-sheathed sword. 
 Behind him, the snowy hill made a white background 
 that threw his easy figure into sharp relief. He looked 
 at me with fierce anger in his blue eyes.
 
 DICK. 69 
 
 " High words, Mr. Allen," he said mockingly, " but 
 my sister has no love for a traitor ! " 
 
 And my heart being sore yet with the thought of 
 Joyce, I held my peace and went my way without retort. 
 Doubtless the boy had told the truth, and my love was 
 mine no longer. Oh the bitterness of it ! You who 
 do not know what it may be to lose one out of your life 
 who being in it was the better part, can neither know 
 the sorrow nor the joy of it. It is better to know what 
 love is than to live in a dead selfishness without sacri 
 fice or pain or gladness, which come all together, and 
 so keenly when we love, as we should, honestly and 
 with a true heart purely, as God intended that a true 
 man and woman should.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 AT THE OLD NORTH BRIDGE. 
 
 ON the twenty-sixth of February, being Sunday and 
 the people at meeting, a detachment of the Ministerial 
 army landed at Marblehead. Some cannon and gun- 
 carriages were stored at Salem, and Governor Gage de 
 signed to seize these, as he had seized other war ma 
 terial wheresoever he could find it. Yet was his purpose 
 of secrecy defeated by the vigilance of the patriots, for 
 they were determined to resist his aggressions. Indeed, 
 the chief anxiety of the selectmen and the Committees 
 of Safety was that the passions of the people would be 
 excited to some overt act that would rather prejudice 
 than aid our cause. So eager was the watchfulness of 
 patriotism that scarce had the troops landed at Marble- 
 head ere the tidings were brought to us at Salem, by 
 Major Pedrick, and the town was in a tumult. There 
 was but one thought, and that was to resist the royal 
 army ; and no consideration was given to our state, so 
 totally unequal to meet the foe. Had we of the colonies 
 thought of the great odds that did exist, we should 
 never have had the heart or courage to meet our en 
 emies. It is the impetuosity of a popular uprising that 
 sustains it. 
 
 I recollect the change that came upon that quiet 
 town on the Sabbath day, which had been still, as for a 
 Puritan meeting ; the congregations were dismissed and 
 poured out of the churches, and the bells were rung,
 
 AT THE OLD NORTH BRIDGE. fl 
 
 while drums beat and signal-guns sounded. The women 
 gathered, excited and alarmed, upon the doorsteps, while 
 the men turned to the stern work that was before them ; 
 some ran to the bridge over the South River, on Mill 
 Street, and began to destroy it, to obstruct the march of 
 the English troops, while others set their faces at once 
 toward the old North Bridge. Behind it lay the cannon, 
 and here the issue must be disputed to the end. It was 
 the work of a few moments to hoist the draw in the great 
 bridge, and then the Yankees gathered upon the northern 
 side and waited, with dogged determination, for the 
 enemy. The militiamen were here, my own company 
 partially represented, and others also, not more, however, 
 than fifty strong, but reinforced by the townspeople, and 
 under the command of Colonel Pickering, with whom were 
 also Captains Felt and Ward. In that moment of excite 
 ment the wiser heads amongst us, foreseeing grave trouble 
 if the people were uncurbed, pleaded for patience. My 
 father, being held in high esteem, addressed a few per 
 tinent words to us, urging forbearance unless we were 
 assailed, since unprovoked violence would but injure our 
 just cause and imperil our homes and families. He was 
 listened to with patience, and it seemed as if his wise 
 remonstrance touched their hearts, but it was a time of 
 sharp suspense ; men looked into each other's faces 
 grimly and with a purpose which wavered not. Then 
 came the tidings that the redcoats were in sight, coming 
 up through South Fields with flaunting colors. Major 
 Pedrick, of Marblehead, had told us that the British 
 were commanded by Colonel Leslie, and my father 
 knew him, by reputation, as a man of some forbearance 
 and justice, so that we entertained a hope of a peaceful 
 issue, although the temper of the people was so danger 
 ous. We at the North Bridge had a brief space for prepa-
 
 72 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 ration, for the enemy was forced to halt at Mill Street to 
 repair the bridge, and would doubtless have delayed 
 longer and lost time but for a Tory lawyer, one Samuel 
 Porter, of Ipswich, who, being like some small men of his 
 trade, a busybody, ran to tell the British that the 
 cannon were in North Salem. Colonel Leslie immedi 
 ately proceeded, and, after a brief pause at the court 
 house, advanced upon us. There was a glint of steel, a 
 blaze of scarlet, and the main body of regulars appeared 
 before us, compact, unwavering, gayly indifferent to the 
 townspeople, whom they called " poor rustics." At the 
 sight of that martial array a stern murmur rose amongst 
 us, and each man grasped his weapon, whether it was 
 a musket or a pitchfork, with sullen resolution. They, 
 on their side, halted and viewed our position with some 
 surprise. There could be no doubt of our hostility ; the 
 hoisted draw and the sullen array across the river were 
 sufficient warning. Two large open boats lay on the 
 other side, and their owners were endeavoring to scuttle 
 them before they could be seized ; and this Colonel Les 
 lie's quick eye discovered, as events proved, at once. 
 He called now upon the good people of Salem to lower 
 the drawbridge for his Majesty's soldiers to pass over, 
 declaring that we had no right to obstruct the king's 
 highway. 
 
 " Nay," responded one of the patriots, " this is a pri 
 vate way ; it belongs to North Fields," he referred to an 
 old dispute about the private ownership of the bridge, 
 which Colonel Leslie did not understand, but it sufficed ; 
 " you have no authority to demand a passage here." 
 
 Whereupon the royalist colonel told us that he would 
 order his men to fire, if we resisted his lawful authority. 
 
 " Fire and be damned ! " replied Captain Joshua Ward 
 of our militia, a stout and fiery Whig ; and his retort drew
 
 AT THE OLD NORTH BRIDGE. 73 
 
 forth a round of applause from the sober church-going 
 folk behind him. There is a time when an oath keeps 
 a man from a worse deed. 
 
 Seeing the sullen obstinacy of his opponents, and no 
 doubt aware that a breach of the peace would precipitate 
 a hideous struggle, Colonel Leslie seemed to waver be 
 tween force and negotiation, and, it may be, loved not 
 the thought of sending his regulars against these half- 
 armed, undisciplined people. Yet his forbearance served 
 only to incite the Whigs to greater opposition ; the 
 weaker side, as always, gaining courage as the stronger 
 hesitated. However, almost immediately, the colonel 
 gave the order for his troops to advance and cross in 
 the two boats, in detachments, as they might. But, 
 before the regulars could reach the vessels, their owners 
 had leaped into them to finish the task of scuttling. 
 Foremost in this work was a tall, lank figure in a short- 
 waisted green coat. 
 
 "You lobster backs had better stay up to Boston," 
 Ephraim shouted, waving his long arms in defiance, as 
 he stood up in the gondola. * 
 
 " Seize the boats in the king' s name ! " cried a Brit 
 ish sergeant, running down to the shore and grasping the 
 gunwale close to Minot. 
 
 " Darn the king ! " replied Ephraim, bringing an oar 
 down sharply on the soldier's hand ; " the Port Bill is 
 working two ways here, young man, and you can let go 
 there, or one of us two will get hurt." 
 
 The redcoat responded with his bayonet ; but Ephraim, 
 being agile as a wildcat, leaped aside and dealt another 
 effective blow with his oar, which sent the soldier floun 
 dering into the water, while his opponent remained un 
 ruffled. A tumult arose at this ; other soldiers, following 
 the sergeant's example, engaged in a scuffle with the
 
 74 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 stragglers on that side of the river, endeavoring to secure 
 the boats, and their bayonets drew blood. A young man 
 from Marblehead, one Robert Wormsted, an expert fencer, 
 engaged in a quarrel with several redcoats at once, and, 
 with no better weapon than his stout cane, disarmed six of 
 them. It was a pretty sight to see him use his good right 
 arm, and verily I think the British admired him as much 
 as we did. All these things were but the play of a few 
 breathless moments, the prelude of more serious work, 
 for Colonel Leslie had lost patience. He ordered his 
 men to face and fire just as the voice of the young pas 
 tor of the North Church made itself heard above the up 
 roar. He stood forth, upon our side of the bridge, and 
 called and beckoned to the colonel, who, taking him for 
 a herald of negotiation, stayed his men who were on the 
 point of obeying his sanguinary order. There was a sud 
 den pause, and we all heard the clergyman's appeal, made 
 in a clear, unfaltering tone. 
 
 " You cannot commit this violation against innocent 
 men here, on this holy day," he said, " without sinning 
 against God and humanity. Let me entreat you to 
 return." 
 
 "And who are you, young sir?" Leslie asked, im 
 pressed, I think, by the speaker's manner. 
 
 " I am Thomas Barnard," was the quiet reply, " a 
 minister of the gospel ; and my mission is peace." 
 
 And he went on to set forth with simple eloquence the 
 wickedness of strife and bloodshed in such a cause. 
 Doubtless his argument would have failed but for Leslie's 
 own moderation ; however, that wise man eagerly em 
 braced the opportunity to stem the tide of the rebellion 
 and signified his willingness to negotiate. My father, 
 with Mr. Barnard and the more quiet of the townsmen, 
 responded readily, and the scuffle on the further bank
 
 AT THE OLD NORTH BRIDGE. f$ 
 
 ceased while they consulted. But the people were im 
 patient of delay ; blood had been drawn, and though the 
 wounds were but scratches, the pride of the patriots was 
 roused and there were many eager to engage in an un 
 equal strife. On the other hand, the regulars were no 
 less anxious to avenge the spirited resistance which, in 
 their eyes, was the insolence of rebels. Happily, there 
 was to be no meeting between these unequal foes ; after 
 much sharp talking, Colonel I^eslie yielded to Mr. Bar 
 nard's persuasion, and, to avoid bloodshed, submitted to 
 our conditions, humiliating though they must have been. 
 He pledged his word of honor to advance but thirty 
 rods beyond the bridge, and then to countermarch, with 
 out touching the cannon he had come so far to seek. 
 After much pleading and remonstrance from the wiser 
 men among us, the people consented, and forming in a 
 line, before which Leslie must march, they allowed the 
 drawbridge to be lowered in sullen silence. 
 
 Thus Salem failed to fire the first shot for the inde 
 pendence of Massachusetts Bay. But the Yankees and 
 the soldiers measured one another ; great was the red 
 coat's contempt for the rustic ; he saw not the resolute 
 heart beating beneath the shabby coat, nor the stern 
 purpose of the simple soul. The bone and sinew of a 
 country are behind the plough and in the hayfield ; it is 
 not rich apparel that makes the steadfast spirit. It was 
 Cromwell, that great captain, who said that he would 
 rather have a russet-coated soldier who knew and loved 
 what he fought for, " than that which you call a gentle 
 man, and is nothing else." It is ever so; the cause 
 that is in ragged guise wins not the world's respect, yet 
 a hero is rarely clad in purple and fine linen. The 
 sword of the Lord and of Gideon is more often in the 
 poor man's hand, and He who is the God of Hosts
 
 76 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 regards the cause of the righteous and the oppressed 
 rather than the might of the rulers of this world, and the 
 princes thereof. 
 
 Quietly, but with stern displeasure, did the towns 
 people regard the redcoats. They came across the 
 bridge and marched and countermarched before our 
 lines, grimly humiliated, doubtless, because they were 
 forced to leave us unmolested and in triumphant pos 
 session of the guns ; no word was said, although a spark 
 would have kindled the fire. They departed just in time, 
 for as the last column marched out of Salem, a company 
 of militia came in from Danvers and the country was 
 rising on every side. The forbearance of Colonel Leslie 
 and the eloquence of Mr. Barnard had averted a bloody 
 conflict, but we felt that it could not now be long before 
 the end would come. Men dispersed gravely to their 
 homes ; the sword had entered the land, and which of us 
 could foretell the outcome ? Peace wears the sweetest 
 aspect when she spreads her wings to leave us, and War 
 frowns most fiercely when upon our threshold. We felt, 
 too, now more keenly the sufferings of Boston, which lay 
 in a state of siege, its poor supported by the charity 
 of the colonies and its rich soon likely to be poor, since 
 business was paralyzed and not even a load of hay might 
 be ferried to its wharves. Men-of-war lay in its harbor 
 ready to seize the humblest boat which attempted to 
 bring aid to the suffering town, and Boston Neck bristled 
 with fortifications, while troops paraded in the streets in 
 open defiance of the people and the laws. The charter 
 of the province was a dead letter, and the governor was 
 even forced to rule with military support, since his dep 
 uties and collectors were despised by the people. The 
 patriots were gathering arms and ammunition into the 
 country, heedless of the cry of " rebellion " that the
 
 AT THE OLD NORTH BRIDGE. 77 
 
 Tories raised, and thus the spring advanced and on 
 both sides there was a watchful defiance, while we 
 armed ourselves and waited for the hour that was now 
 at hand. 
 
 The month of March passed away without an open 
 conflict, but the two parties were preparing for the last 
 extremity. The temper of the provinces grew daily 
 more stubborn; yet Parliament waited to see the col 
 onists prostrate in submission ! The eloquence of Chat 
 ham awoke no wisdom in their counsels. The British 
 officers in Boston even boasted that the spirit of the 
 patriots was broken ; thus do fools close their eyes to an 
 unwelcome truth and rush upon their fate.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE CALL TO ARMS. 
 
 APRIL came to us at last, with skies of milder blue, 
 and the clouds no longer carried snow-drifts in their 
 bosoms. The sea, too, showed less purple in its billows, 
 reflecting instead the blue above, in deeper hues, and 
 beating more gently on the rugged cliffs. The moor 
 lands, clad so long in snow, were touched now upon the 
 sunny slopes with a tender green that blended softly 
 with the sober tints of winter, and the same new life 
 showed here and there in the bare brown woods where 
 the earlier trees were budding. There, too, on sheltered 
 banks, and about the feet of the great oak-trees, bloomed 
 already the blue squirrel cups, and in the midst of dead 
 fallen leaves lay the sweet pink blossoms of the ground 
 laurel which I have since heard called arbutus. All 
 nature was thrilling with new life ; the young buds on 
 the fruit-trees were swelling, and the earth, no longer 
 stiff and hard with ice, yielded to the plough in rich black 
 furrows. I recollect that Aunt Dorcas had already 
 sowed her sweet peas and was having her garden beds 
 set in order for the early seed-time. 
 
 When the great day came, we were less apprehensive 
 than usual. Trouble, long anticipated, grows to be a 
 phantom of imagination, and its threatening aspect 
 assumes a pleasant unreality. We had bidden guests 
 to dinner on the nineteenth of April, and passed a 
 cheerful afternoon. One of our visitors, but lately re-
 
 THE CALL TO ARMS. 79 
 
 turned from England, told us of the talk in London of 
 King George's animosity toward America, the same 
 gossip that we had heard in Philadelphia, but we were 
 still loath to believe it, though it was no new tale, but 
 
 * one threadbare with the patriots. The night was serene, 
 still, and moonlight, and no one dreamed of the prepara 
 tions on foot in Boston. We went to our rest early, for 
 Salem kept sober hours and eschewed dissipation. We 
 slept gently, too, with no premonitions of danger. At 
 daybreak there were rumors that signal-fires had been 
 burning in the country at midnight, some good people 
 
 . even claiming to have heard the alarm guns ; but little 
 heed was given to these stories until a horseman came 
 down Essex Street at a full gallop, and the bells began 
 to toll. It was the courier from Boston bearing the 
 fateful tidings : the Ministerial army was in motion and 
 had advanced on Concord, where arms and ammu 
 nitions, belonging to the province, had been stored. 
 The town was swarming like a beehive suddenly dis 
 turbed, and my father was at once the center of an 
 eager concourse of the older men, who looked to him 
 for counsel. There was no delay, though afterwards 
 we were so unjustly charged with supineness because 
 we came too late for the action ; but verily, we made 
 what haste we could. The country had been sum 
 moned, and the minute-men came in from every side. 
 Colonel Pickering at once called out the militia, and we 
 began our preparations for the hasty march. Few words 
 were spoken ; it was rather the time to act, and some 
 brief stern orders were given. There was but little confu 
 sion. So long had we looked for this hour that men fell 
 at once into their appointed places. It was my portion 
 to carry a message to Marblehead, and return with the 
 companies from there, Colonel Pickering having but
 
 80 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 three hundred men available at Salem. Mounting my 
 horse, I crossed the ferry and rode on my errand alone. 
 My heart swelled with passion and regret. I well nigh 
 forgot my mission. Before me shone, like two stars, the 
 blue eyes of my love, who was mine no more. I, who 
 came a soldier, on a warlike errand, dreamed only of 
 Joyce and the old days together; so it is that love 
 beguiles us ever. 
 
 When I rode into Marblehead, I found the town alive 
 with armed men, and the companies already formed. 
 Strange soldiers they seemed too, in their motley array, 
 yet bore themselves like brave men and true. The best 
 of us had no uniforms. I remember that I wore that* 
 day a gray riding-suit with sword knots of blue, and a 
 flat beaver hat with three rolls, but I bore no badge 
 or emblem of any kind. Stern were the faces of the 
 men about me, bronzed by wind and sea, and resolute 
 to do or die. Bravely did they serve in those long 
 years of trial when we purchased with blood our free 
 dom and yours who have come after us. When tempta 
 tion comes to barter it, remember how dearly it was 
 won. 
 
 Brief was the consultation that I held with the com 
 manders of the militia and, the companies being ready, 
 we turned our faces toward Salem without delay. We 
 had been gathered by the town-hall, and as we started 
 on our march, women and children followed us, so that 
 every house was empty. To them war was an unknown 
 evil, and they were rather eager at the thought of their 
 dear ones going to uphold the right. Poor souls ! how 
 many an aching heart was there before three moons had 
 waned; how many an eye, bright that day, was dim 
 with tears ! We came on past Saint Michael's, march 
 ing slowly through the crooked streets because the
 
 THE CALL TO ARMS. 8 1 
 
 crowd had hemmed us in. I was riding in front with 
 the officers, if we might call them by that name, and as 
 we turned the corner of a narrow lane, I heard a dog 
 bark short and joyfully, and knew the sound at once. 
 A little from the wayside, in a sheltered spot, half hidden 
 by the great trunk of an ancient elm, stood Joyce, with 
 Laddie at her side. Cloaked and hooded as she was, 
 I should have known the figure even if the dog had not 
 betrayed her. I turned my horse aside to let the crowd 
 pass by me ; and they did unheeding, for what was I at 
 such a time as that ? I could not be sure that she would 
 linger until I could speak with her ; but fate was kind 
 to me. When the last straggler had passed, she still 
 stood behind her screen, ashamed, I think, to fly from 
 the enemy, for Joyce had a valiant spirit. I dared not 
 hope that she stayed there for my sake, yet my heart 
 throbbed high as I sprang up the slope and stood be 
 fore her, while Laddie leaped about my feet for joy. 
 Because I felt so much I had no words. My tongue 
 has ever been a poor servant in my necessity, and for 
 the moment I could only look in silence on her lovely 
 face. Her hood, tied underneath her chin, cast a 
 shadow over her brow, and in her eyes, which were 
 more gray than blue that morning. I thought her pale, 
 but fair as some sweet white rose. 
 
 " Laddie is rejoiced to see me," I said softly, " but 
 you are silent, Joyce ; have you no word of greeting for 
 me?" 
 
 I saw her lips quiver, and she clasped her hands 
 nervously together. 
 
 " Why are you here ? " she cried in a low voice, and 
 I think she did not dream how harshly the question 
 sounded from her lips. "What are those men about 
 to do?" 
 
 6
 
 82 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 Her coldness froze the warmer impulse in my heart ; 
 she had then no thought for me. 
 
 " You have heard the alarum, Joyce," I said quietly ; 
 " these men will answer the call to arms to defend the 
 liberties of Massachusetts Bay." 
 
 " They will fight ! " she exclaimed, a soft, bright color 
 coming into her pale cheeks ; " with whom, sir? " 
 
 The question was peremptory, and she turned upon 
 me like a judge upon a culprit. I knew the storm that 
 I should rouse, and endeavored to put it in the softest 
 light. 
 
 "There are arms and ammunition at Concord," I 
 said patiently, as to a child, " belonging to the colony, 
 and we assume that Mr. Gage would seize these stores 
 as he has seized others, and the people of Massachusetts 
 are resolved to resist the bold oppression. A detach 
 ment of the Ministerial army left Boston last night, to 
 proceed secretly upon their errand ; but it is said that 
 blood has already been shed, and the minute-men are 
 summoned to the field." 
 
 " These men are going to Boston to fight the king's 
 soldiers?" she said in a clear voice; "then they are 
 rebels, and should be shot ! " 
 
 I started and looked at her, amazed and pained, 
 taking her harsh words to myself. 
 
 " That, then, is the fate that you would assign to me ? " 
 I asked, and my own voice sounded strange to me. 
 
 She gave me one defiant glance, and then I think she 
 saw the pain in my eyes, for she suddenly broke down, 
 and running to me clasped my arm in both her pretty 
 hands, tears shining in her eyes. 
 
 " You are not going," she cried softly ; " you must 
 not shall not go ! It is wrong it is wicked. John, 
 stay for my sake ! "
 
 THE CALL TO ARMS. 83 
 
 Now, she knew how weak my heart was to resist her, 
 and she was using all a woman's wiles. And I who 
 had been starving for the sight of her sweet face felt 
 only a wild thrill of happiness and hope renewed ; saw 
 only her blue eyes misty with tears, and forgot all the 
 world for one dear moment to my cost ! I caught 
 her hands and held them close in mine. 
 
 " Joyce," I whispered passionately, " do you mean it? 
 
 Is it possible that you still love me a little ? I heard that 
 
 you were soon to wed Francis Beresford is it false? " 
 
 " You know that it is false ! " she exclaimed with a 
 
 touch of her old petulance ; " why speak of it now? " 
 
 I drew a deep breath of relief. " Because it is near 
 my heart," I replied in a low voice, looking long and 
 fondly at her lovely, agitated face, and then with a 
 mighty effort I remembered that my duty called me. 
 " I must go now, Joyce," I said gently ; " do not let us 
 part in anger." 
 
 She drew back, and her eyes flashed. "Ah," she 
 cried bitterly, " you do not care for me. I have humil 
 iated my pride to plead with you and you are deaf to 
 my entreaties." 
 
 " Heaven is my witness," I replied earnestly, " that I 
 love you with all my soul ! I have hungered for the 
 sight of you through all these weary months; to see 
 you, to touch you again, is happiness." 
 
 I laid her hand against my cheek with passionate 
 fondness. She was quivering from head to foot with 
 some emotion, and seemed to struggle with herself. 
 
 " If you love me, you will not go ! " she cried, the 
 tears running down her cheeks. 
 
 Now Joyce's tears I could not bear, and to think that 
 I had caused them cut me to the heart. We were 
 alone, the place was deserted, and, regardless of her
 
 84 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 anger, I caught her in my arms and tried to kiss away 
 her tears, and she yielded, half clinging to me. 
 
 "You will not go?" she whispered, laying her soft 
 wet cheek against mine. 
 
 " In heaven's name, Joyce," I cried bitterly, " do not 
 tempt me ! Do not make such an issue I must do 
 my duty." 
 
 She freed herself with a quick passionate gesture. 
 
 " You do not love me," she declared ; " you would 
 not leave me, if you did, to play the traitor to your 
 king." 
 
 " I am no traitor," I replied with equal passion, for I 
 was ever but too hasty, " I am no slave, but a free-born 
 American. You learn that ugly name, perhaps, from 
 Mr. Beresford." 
 
 She bit her lip angrily. My jealousy had flashed out 
 at an unhappy moment. 
 
 " He, at least, is loyal, sir," she declared hotly. 
 
 " Loyal enough, mayhap, to forsake his duty," I re 
 torted bitterly, stung by her reproach. 
 
 " Such a charge behind a man's back is unworthy of 
 you," she replied with coldness. 
 
 I looked at her with all my heart on fire with a 
 lover's jealousy. 
 
 " I see that I am but an unworthy rebel beside him ! " 
 I said bitterly. 
 
 " Then learn a lesson in loyalty from him ! " she re 
 plied as quickly, her blue eyes aflame. 
 
 " Nay," I answered sternly, " you must needs love 
 the better man. You know me as I am, a plain man 
 who will do his duty, and if you have ceased to care for 
 me, I must even learn to bear it." 
 
 " It seems a small matter to you ! " she said bitterly. 
 
 "Oh, Joyce ! " I exclaimed with almost a groan.
 
 THE CALL TO ARMS. 8$ 
 
 She averted her face and would not look at me, and 
 my heart sank like lead. Away off I heard the shouts of 
 the departing men, and my horse plunged restively. 
 
 " Joyce," I said in a low voice, which faltered as I 
 spoke, " I must go. My duty calls me to fight and per 
 haps to die for the freedom of my native land. God 
 knows that I am trying to do what is right, as I see it, 
 and He is my judge. Bid me farewell, sweetheart, do 
 not turn from me in coldness not now ! Do not let 
 me take this memory of you away in my heart. Oh, 
 Joyce, it grieves my soul to leave you so ! " 
 
 The exclamation was wrung from me, for her manner 
 stung me to the quick. But she would not forgive me, 
 and her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were dark 
 with anger. 
 
 " These are words ! " she said bitterly, turning an in 
 dignant face toward me ; " you cannot truly care, or you 
 would not rush so blindly upon your fate." 
 
 " It is you who misjudge me," I replied ; " love would 
 not so misunderstand me. That Englishman has warped 
 your judgment. Farewell, Joyce, may all good angels 
 guard you." 
 
 Receiving no response, I turned sadly and walked 
 toward my horse. Laddie, seeing that I was going, sprang 
 upon me with every evidence of affection. Touched by 
 the dog's loyalty, I stopped to caress him. 
 
 " Good-bye, Laddie," I said ; " you, at least, are faith 
 ful to old friends." 
 
 The sound of loud cheering and derisive shouts came 
 suddenly from the direction taken by the townsfolk, and 
 I knew that I could linger no longer. I sprang into the 
 saddle, and, gathering the reins in my hand, paused a 
 moment to gaze reproachfully at the slender figure under 
 the elm.
 
 86 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " We may never meet again," I said in a choked 
 voice ; " farewell ! " 
 
 Then she looked at me, and her face was white, but 
 her eyes sparkled and she held her head high. 
 
 " I am for the king, sir," she said, and turned her 
 back upon me. 
 
 I turned my horse's head toward the road that the 
 militia had taken, and, dashing my hat down low over my 
 eyes, galloped off. My emotion had risen in my throat 
 and was choking me, and all the scene swam before my 
 dim vision. I went to do my duty, but at that moment 
 I would rather have felt her soft arms about my neck 
 than to have won a kingdom ! A woman and I could 
 not reason with her, but I loved her and the world was 
 blank without her. A young man's folly, some may call 
 it, but it seems to me that a life without such folly is but 
 a hard and barren thing. And though I say it, with no 
 thought to excuse my own weakness, I have never seen 
 a brave man who had not, too, a tender heart which held 
 some blossom of beauty and of life eternal. In the cleft 
 of the sternest rock the wild-flower blooms. Not that I 
 was either more brave or stern than others, but I was 
 not alone in my affection or my weakness. I rode on 
 blindly, with a load upon my spirit, and only the strange 
 disturbance that greeted my ear more sharply as I ad 
 vanced, aroused me. There were jeering calls and 
 laughter, and I urged my horse forward, for some intui 
 tion warned me of what I might expect.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 SIR ANTHONY'S DEFIANCE. 
 
 THE road taken by the militia passed directly in front 
 of the Talbot house, and ere I turned the corner that 
 concealed it from view, I had divined the cause of the 
 disturbance. In a few moments my suspicions were 
 confirmed ; the next turn brought me in sight of the old 
 mansion, and the scene that was being enacted before 
 it. The self-constituted officers had ridden on ahead, 
 and were not conscious of the delay of the rear guard ; 
 a small company, increased by the idle townspeople, 
 stood before the house listening to an oration from Sir 
 Anthony. The nature of his discourse was but too 
 evident from the temper of his audience. His servants 
 were gathered in groups in the corners of the front gar 
 den, looking on with frightened faces, and the newly 
 organized militia had paused upon the march to listen. 
 Sir Anthony stood on the portico, and he had arrayed 
 himself in an old military coat of scarlet, for he had 
 held the king's commission, and it was evident that he 
 was suffering from one of his attacks of gout, for his 
 swollen foot was thrust into an old slipper. His face 
 was well nigh purple with rage, and the hand that grasped 
 his gold-headed cane quivered as with palsy, while he 
 shook the other fist in the faces of his auditors. 
 
 I checked my horse and advanced slowly, being sorely 
 perplexed ; my appearance would but increase Sir An 
 thony's fury, and I could not be certain of my influence
 
 88 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 with the little crowd, as yet more diverted than angered 
 by the old Tory's violence. While I hesitated upon 
 my own course, I could now hear all that passed, and 
 see the expressions on both sides, although myself un 
 noticed. 
 
 "Traitors!" Sir Anthony shouted, "rascals scum 
 of the earth ! Disperse, go to your homes before you 
 are all hung as rebels ! " 
 
 " Hear hear ! " cried his auditors, with a good- 
 natured jeer; " old Anthony is addressing the patriots." 
 
 " Born rascals, all of ye ! " replied Sir Anthony, shak 
 ing his cane at them, "what are you doing? You will 
 not pay the king's taxes no, no! you repudiate a 
 debt to cancel it ! Honest men thieves, every 
 mother's son of ye ! " 
 
 At this, some vagabond threw a handful of mud at 
 the old royalist, and missing him it spattered on the 
 steps. He pointed his cane at it in scorn. 
 
 "A fit weapon!" he exclaimed; "from mud ye 
 sprang, and to mud ye will return." 
 
 Heretofore his auditors had been good-natured, but at 
 last he had roused some natural ire ; the foremost made 
 a rush at the fence, and two or three small stones were 
 thrown. That was all, for I rode into the midst of the 
 crowd and began to urge them to go on. But Sir 
 Anthony, far from daunted, stood there shaking his cane 
 in their faces. 
 
 " Come on ! " he cried exultantly, " come on ! One 
 gouty old man can whip you all ! " 
 
 For the moment, it seemed that I might not prevail 
 against the tumult that he had provoked; his insults 
 were but the climax of a long defiance of his fellow 
 townsmen, and these, being of the rougher class, would 
 fain have administered a lesson and were little disposed
 
 SIR ANTHONY'S DEFIANCE. 89 
 
 to relinquish their purpose. But I pleaded and urged 
 them to proceed, reminding them of the grave cause for 
 expedition, and so succeeded at last 'in shaming some, 
 and, those of the better sort making off after their com 
 rades, the peril was averted. But Sir Anthony was far 
 from pleased at this diversion in his favor ; he longed to 
 do battle for his cause and resented my interference. 
 
 "Turncoat ! " he shouted at me mockingly, "turncoat 
 Allen, let them come on I can fight them I want 
 to fight them ! " 
 
 I turned a deaf ear to his reproaches, and gave all my 
 energies to urging the idle stragglers on. I had no wish 
 to make the breach between Joyce and me yet wider, 
 and I knew too well Sir Anthony's temper and my own. 
 But I prevailed more easily with the people than with 
 him ; he had no mind to let me escape so happily. 
 
 " A young traitor," he cried out in a loud voice, " but 
 a hopeful pattern of your father ! Judge Allen, indeed 
 the king's magistrate; rather, say I, the king's 
 rebel ! " 
 
 I was directly in front of the house, urging the last 
 stragglers away, and his bitter gibe was audible to all. 
 For myself, I could bear much ; but my father was not 
 for such abuse as this, and I felt my face burn, but con 
 trolled my rising passion, remembering who Sir Anthony 
 was. 
 
 " For shame, old man ! " I said, turning sternly upon 
 him ; " think rather upon the troubles that have come 
 upon this unhappy country, and defile not the name of 
 an upright and honorable man." 
 
 " I am not yet so old that I may not chastise a 
 traitor," shouted Sir Anthony, shaking his cane at me ; 
 " come down off your horse and defend yourself like a 
 man."
 
 9O A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " I will not quarrel with your white hairs," I replied 
 with forced composure ; " you are sacred from my sword, 
 Sir Anthony, therefore forbear to hurl your gibes at my 
 father; " and with these words I followed the departing 
 stragglers, determined to hear no more, lest my patience 
 should be tried too far, and I should speak in anger 
 words that I should evermore regret, for was he not the 
 father of my love? It seemed strange too, I thought, 
 that he and Dick should both have challenged me to 
 combat, and yet had we more cause to love each other, 
 for old acquaintance' sake, than to quarrel. But it is 
 ever thus. War brings a sword that sets brother against 
 brother ; in those bitter years to come, many a house 
 being divided against itself fell, and many an aching 
 heart was severed from kindred and from friends. 
 
 I rode out of Marblehead with a far heavier spirit 
 than when I entered it. I was in two minds about the 
 manner of my treatment from Joyce ; her conduct had 
 been at cross purposes. She had shown me some af 
 fection, and I remembered long that one brief happy 
 moment when she clung to me, I felt still the touch of 
 her soft cheek on mine, yet in another instant she had 
 been angry, petulant, repellent, her own wayward self. 
 But there was small comfort for me in that reflection. 
 At such a moment surely love should have prevailed, and 
 yet, I reasoned, did she realize how grave was the crisis? 
 A woman's heart is hard to understand, and hers was ever 
 a delightful mystery to me ; I was not learned in 
 woman's wiles, but she could read me through and 
 through, and so torment me in her lively moods and 
 call me dull ; yet came to me always, in the end, with 
 protests that she loved me as I was, and would not have 
 me changed. But that was over now all was over 
 belike, I thought ; the happy, thoughtless days by the
 
 S/X ANTHONY'S DEFIANCE. 9 1 
 
 sea or in the orchard, when the apple blossoms dropped 
 their petals like a rosy snow about us, and the perfume 
 of the clover made the soft air sweet while the robins 
 called to each other overhead. It was past, like our 
 childhood ; the future ah, which of us would be the 
 happier for beholding it?
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 WITH THE MINUTE-MEN. 
 
 As we proceeded upon our march, we heard constant 
 confirmation of the rumors that the Ministerial army had 
 fired upon our countrymen, yet many of us could scarcely 
 credit so grim a tale. That blood had been shed at 
 last, seemed improbable. The country was thoroughly 
 aroused, and all the way rustics fell into line to reinforce 
 us, some bringing rusty muskets and others pitchforks, 
 but all animated with a steadfast purpose. The Danvers 
 men preceded us, having cut across the country ; and 
 they had a sharp conflict with the regulars at Menotomy, 
 while we came up an hour too late to cut off the troops 
 in their retreat to Charlestown Neck, where the guns of 
 their ships of war defended them from the people's ven 
 geance. Though we pressed forward with all haste, 
 marching fifteen miles in four hours, we were too late to 
 join the battle, and were sharply and unjustly censured, 
 since surely mortal men could do no more. So indig 
 nant were our own townsmen, at the blame cast upon 
 us, that the town meeting in August laid the matter 
 before the General Court, and we were finally exoner 
 ated, but not until many a heart was sore at the injustice. 
 Unhappily, it was sunset ere we came to the Mystic 
 River, and already the broken detachment of Lord 
 Percy had retreated in great confusion through Charles- 
 town, while Cambridge and Dorchester swarmed with 
 the minute-men. The Ministerial army, goaded by the
 
 WITH THE MINUTE-MEN. 93 
 
 aggressive attitude of the Americans, had committed 
 many sad depredations. I, with a small party, crossed 
 over at Penny Ferry, and joined the troops now gathered 
 under General Heath, a veteran of the French wars. 
 On all sides I heard sad tales of the day's work and of 
 the murder of the patriots at Lexington. Eight had 
 fallen ; poor Robert Monroe, the standard-bearer of his 
 company when Louisburg was captured, died on his own 
 threshold at his wife's feet. A woman too, with her 
 infant in her arms, had been slain in Menotomy, and a 
 fierce fire of hatred flamed in American hearts that night. 
 The day had been cold, with a high wind blowing ; but 
 the sun went down serenely, and the tranquil waters of 
 the Charles reflected the rosy clouds floating in the 
 western sky, and one by one the stars shone out and the 
 moon rose. Nature was peaceful, but the change had 
 come ; the first shots had been fired and peace was no 
 more. We lay upon our arms, anticipating an attack, 
 since Mr. Gage had declared that Cambridge should an 
 swer for it, if its inhabitants went out in arms against the 
 king. But Mr. Gage's bark, as we came to know later, 
 was far worse than his bite. Among the Whigs there 
 was deep feeling ; all were infuriated against the Minis 
 terial army ; not yet did men cast the blame upon his 
 Majesty, rather did they prefer to believe that he had 
 listened to evil counsels and been misled by distorted 
 reports of his subjects in the colonies. We had not 
 then learned to call him the " stubborn Dutchman," as 
 we did before the end. We sent our own account of 
 the sad conflict between the regulars and the minute- 
 men at Lexington, by a sure hand, to our agent in Lon 
 don, that the true report of our affairs might reach the 
 public of Great Britain, since we could hope for only 
 distorted tales from the royalists of Boston.
 
 94 ^ YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 The first shot fired at Lexington had stirred the 
 country on every side ;" not only did the Province of 
 Massachusetts Bay respond nobly to the call for men, but 
 every colony awoke to sympathy. New Hampshire, 
 Connecticut, and Rhode Island soon despatched their 
 reinforcements to the Provincial Army, and General 
 Ward commanded the militia of Massachusetts. We 
 were not entirely unprepared for the grave crisis ; wise 
 men had foreseen it and supplies had been gathered, 
 both in ammunition and in food ; but it was difficult to 
 discipline and hold together so large a body of men, 
 called suddenly into service and all anxious to set their 
 own affairs in order. We were without commissions, too, 
 and scarcely knew where to look for orders. In addi 
 tion, a great panic prevailed at Charlestown among all 
 classes, since the British warships threatened it ; the 
 Nautilus was at Boston, and the Somerset lay in the ferry 
 ways before Charlestown, and we had learned that the 
 town was in danger of a cannonade. All the inhabitants 
 were fleeing from it, and general consternation prevailed. 
 On the twenty-second of April the Provincial Congress of 
 Massachusetts Bay assembled at Concord, and my father 
 came up from Salem by the way of Cambridge to attend 
 the assembly, resting over night at Wetherby's Tavern in 
 Menotomy, where I went, leaving the camp that day to 
 be with him, since I needed his counsel. He and Dr. 
 Warren, of the Committee of Safety, sat late talking of 
 the pressing needs of the cause and the necessity of 
 organizing the minute- men into a regular army, and so 
 it was that I had but little time with my father wherein 
 to talk of our own affairs. Now that I was to be a 
 soldier, much fell upon him which I had shared before ; 
 but he was full of a deep enthusiasm for the struggle, and 
 though he loved me, as I loved him, I think that he
 
 WITH THE MINUTE-MEN. 95 
 
 regarded me, much as Abraham regarded Isaac, as a 
 sacrifice. He would rather, I knew, have seen me fall at 
 the front of the battle than to have found me wavering 
 in my allegiance to my country. Yet was he full of 
 tenderness for my shortcomings : it was he who always 
 gathered any tidings of Joyce that might affect my hap 
 piness. I think that he never believed that she had 
 changed ; to him she was ever the blue-eyed little girl 
 that he had known from infancy. 
 
 After Dr. Warren left us, we walked out together and 
 viewed the lines of our troops. The army lay extended 
 from Dorchester to Charlestown, in a semicircle, and my 
 father shook his head at the long stretch which could be 
 so poorly guarded, especially by an unorganized force. 
 The lines that we visited were composed of the few com 
 panies lying in the Charlestown road toward Menotomy, 
 and a few more lay over at Phipps' Farm. The day 
 before, Colonel William Prescott had been in command 
 here but had been since ordered to march his regiment 
 to Roxbury to join General Thomas. We had the 
 veterans of the French wars with us, General Israel Put 
 nam and General Stark, and others besides, but there 
 was a great need of more commissioned officers and 
 those on duty were sorely overworked. 
 
 " A great cause and a just one," my father said as we 
 walked back slowly to our lodgings ; " yet there is like to 
 be many a defeat, I fear, ere these raw recruits are 
 seasoned to service, and Mr. Gage has a disciplined force 
 at his command." 
 
 " Yet they fled before the patriots but yesterday," I 
 said cheerfully. 
 
 "True," he replied quietly, "and great has been the 
 result in encouraging these new soldiers; but the first 
 flush of war is not the long and dreary duty and the
 
 96 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 sharp conflict under fire. I do not doubt the courage 
 or the loyalty of these my countrymen, but here is sore 
 need for a commander-in-chief who shall be brave enough 
 and wise enough to lead this army to a glorious victory." 
 
 " I pity most the inhabitants of Boston," I said thought 
 fully ; " upon them will fall the heaviest vengeance of 
 the governor, and they are suffering in so many ways. 
 Already the Tories there have enlisted in the royal ser 
 vice, and they are, I hear, more bitter against their pa 
 triotic fellow townsmen than the British themselves." 
 
 " It is ever so," my father remarked, " a civil war is 
 the most bitter. When brother rises against brother, 
 there is no mercy shown on either side. We must 
 even endeavor to devise" some way to relieve the poor 
 folk in the town." 
 
 " The Tories are anxious too, I hear, to get into 
 Boston, from the country," I went on, "since their 
 situation is scarcely more happy amongst us than that 
 of the patriots in Boston." 
 
 My father looked at me and smiled. 
 
 " You have heard, then," he said quietly, " that Sir 
 Anthony Talbot is desirous of coming from Marblehead 
 with his household and effects? He would even shake 
 the dust of Essex County off his feet. Dick, I heard, was 
 with Lord Percy yesterday." 
 
 " I heard it too," I replied gravely, " and with sorrow, 
 yet I could expect no less ; and as for Sir Anthony, he is 
 breathing blood and fire ; " and I told him briefly of the 
 scene at Marblehead. 
 
 " Sir Anthony to the life," my father responded, smil 
 ing ; " he, at least, has the virtue of a deep devotion to 
 his own convictions. You went on a serious errand that 
 day," he added suddenly, and I detected the amusement 
 in his voice ; " of course, you saw nothing of Joyce ? "
 
 WITH THE MINUTE-MEN. 97 
 
 Now, I knew my father loved well to torment me, and 
 I winced a little at his tone, but we were bound by too 
 close" ties of sympathy for the shadow of resentment, and 
 I bore his question with patience. 
 
 " Nay," I said calmly, " I saw Miss Talbot, and spoke 
 with her." 
 
 "And the lovers' quarrel is so ended?" asked my 
 father, laughing softly. 
 
 " Not so, sir," I answered gravely ; " she will none of 
 me." 
 
 There was a pause, and I knew that he was perplexed ; 
 presently he threw his arm about my shoulders and 
 walked with me so, leaning a little on me, and I knew 
 his heart, tender as a woman's, felt my loss and sor 
 rowed for his jest. So it was with us ever ; the bond 
 between us was too close for any need of words ; sym 
 pathy of the soul has its own language, and they who love 
 best speak the least ; a touch, a glance, and all is said. 
 Yet still he did not believe that the breach might be 
 final, for when we had reached the tavern and were 
 parting for the night, he pressed my hand and smiled 
 upon me, his brown eyes full of feeling and great 
 kindness. 
 
 " Youth takes its troubles too seriously," he said in 
 his pleasant, gentle way; "the little maid has a way 
 ward spirit, but her heart was ever true as steel." 
 
 And I was half shamed that he had so great faith in 
 her, while I was full of doubt and jealousy. That night, 
 too, I remembered a little song that I had heard her 
 sing. It was on one bright day, in the spring-time, 
 when we walked together on the moors and all the 
 ground was like a snow-flecked field with the bright- 
 eyed daisies, the air sweet with new-mown hay, while 
 the sunshine made her eyes sparkle with the blue of the 
 
 7
 
 98 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 skies above us. Walking before me in the way, she sang 
 in her sweet voice, clear as any bird's, a little old song of 
 Shakespeare's, to a tune of her own making, new and 
 tender from her rosy lips, and dear because she sang it 
 to me, though in a mood rather to provoke than please 
 me. That night, so near the army, outside of a be 
 leaguered city, the words came back to me and I 
 heard her voice singing, 
 
 M Doubt thou the stars are fire ; 
 
 Doubt that the sun doth move ; 
 Doubt truth to be a liar ; 
 But never doubt I love."
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 AT THE SIGN OF THE SUN. 
 
 THE state of Boston grew daily, indeed hourly, more 
 unhappy ; the Tories stirring up the wrath of the British, 
 for, as my father had said, our bitterest foes were of our 
 kindred and acquaintance. General Gage was inclined 
 more to mercy and to liberality toward the Yankees than 
 their own countrymen. Beleaguered as he was with our 
 army, the governor no doubt feared an attack from with 
 in the town also, and was the more anxious to be rid, 
 on any terms, of the Whigs ; thus it was the Tories only 
 who made the conditions hard at the last. On Sunday, 
 the third day from the battle of Lexington, the select 
 men of Boston and the governor came to an agreement, 
 after much argument. The inhabitants of the distressed 
 town were to store their arms at Faneuil Hall, under the 
 charge of the selectmen, and all such persons desiring to 
 leave, might do so, having only to comply with the regu 
 lations and obtain a passport. The patriots were, at first, 
 allowed to take all their effects, though at the last this 
 was denied or only partly permitted, but at no time 
 were any arms or ammunition allowed to pass, nor could 
 any one go out of Boston save between sunrise and sun 
 set. So great was the trepidation, so general the de 
 votion to our cause, that thousands applied at once for 
 passes, and the roads from the town were thronged with 
 fugitives and their household goods and stores. It was 
 this general flight which in the end alarmed the Tories
 
 IOO A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 
 
 and the British, causing that breach of faith which cast 
 such odium upon the latter. At the first the agree 
 ment was executed in full, and the Congress of Massa 
 chusetts Bay responded with a like measure in favor of 
 the Tories scattered in the province. Officers were 
 stationed at Mr. Greaton's house at Roxbury, and at the 
 Sign of the Sun on Charlestown Neck to furnish permits 
 to Tories passing through our lines to Boston. 
 
 Having been commissioned a lieutenant in the Essex 
 regiment, I was one of those chosen to dispense the 
 passes and examine all persons asking for them ; my 
 station being at the Sign of the Sun. Ephraim was in 
 almost constant attendance upon me, more I think from 
 habit than any recognition of my military authority, for 
 he had no conception of the obedience and respect due 
 to his superiors; obeying rather from inclination and 
 when he saw the necessity for it than because it was 
 a matter of discipline. That old green coat and the 
 old black beaver upon the back of his red head were 
 characteristic of his indifference, yet he had a natural 
 genius for military matters, and was a man of intrepid 
 courage, deliberate and cool. The appearance of our 
 army was happily no indication of its worth ; a strange 
 aspect we presented, and it was not marvellous that the 
 Ministerial troops looked upon us as the rabble of the 
 peasantry. Men came fresh from the plow or from the 
 helm of their fishing-smacks, and carried old fowling- 
 pieces, scythes, pitchforks, any weapon that was at hand. 
 Yet there were veterans of the French wars ; many a 
 hero wore a coat as old and faded as Ephraitn's, serving 
 as a butt for the jokes of the regulars, until they learned, 
 by bitter experience, to respect the determination of 
 these simple patriots. It was the cause of the people ; 
 the people came to do battle for it, and in this was its
 
 AT THE SIGN OF THE SUN. IOI 
 
 only strength. At this time reinforcements came rapidly, 
 and with them great confusion ; each colony sent officers, 
 and it was difficult to find either head or heart to the 
 great body, and there were endless disputes and quarrels. 
 Much trouble ensued, too, in provisioning the troops; 
 Mr. Commissary Pigeon had charge of the supplies for 
 Massachusetts Bay and New Hampshire, but there was 
 confusion in regard to the other colonies. It was a sad 
 medley, but happily there was a common cause ; that 
 alone held the strange army, or rabble for it was 
 scarcely more together. General Ward was recog 
 nized as the commander-in-chief, and was obeyed with 
 some courtesy, but the want of organization was destined 
 to be our besetting sin and misfortune. We had already, 
 by the first of May, begun to build fortifications, although 
 we had no expectation that Mr. Gage would sally out of 
 his stronghold. If he had done so, he would have met 
 a stern reception ; the patriots were but too eager to 
 avenge the men who died at Lexington. 
 
 Meanwhile the Tories moved into Boston with as 
 great an eagerness as the Whigs quitted it, and we were 
 busily employed giving out the passes and watching the 
 parties going into the town and receiving those coming 
 out. One bright day in May, I was, as usual, stationed 
 at the Sign of the Sun, having been all the morning 
 busily engaged in directing various matters under my 
 charge. Toward noon there was a pause in the bustle, 
 and I stood without the tavern watching a party of 
 travellers whom we had just dispatched to the town. 
 The air was balmy, and the waters of the Mystic rippled 
 gently ; the golden dandelions turned bright faces up 
 ward from the sward, and in the fields was the white 
 bloom of the elder-flowers. A day to touch the heart 
 with joy, yet at that moment pick and spade were
 
 102 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 working upon the fortifications, and, way off, the drum 
 was beating the call to arms in all the colonies. 
 
 The midday hour had brought some idlers about the 
 tavern door, simple rustics, summoned from the plow to 
 bear the brunt of war ; goodly men to look upon, sinewy 
 and tall, with sun-bronzed faces, and with the natural 
 upright bearing of the soldier, yet with no token of 
 their new employment. Clad in coats of many colors, 
 some sound and whole, some already tattered, with weap 
 ons of every size and pattern, their eyes had that 
 bright level glance that is at once cheerful and reassur 
 ing. In the midst of these, seated upon the doorstep 
 of the tavern, was Ephraim, his green coat seeming 
 more vivid with the spring tints for a background, and 
 his old musket lying across his knees. His head rested 
 against the wall, and his hat lay on the step beside him ; 
 he was singing gayly a new patriot song, but lately pub 
 lished in the " Essex Gazette." His voice was good, if a 
 trifle thin and high, and the rustics listened with admira 
 tion and applause to the warlike strains, one or two 
 among them joining in the closing lines of every verse, 
 a not unpleasing chorus. The full, hearty notes rang 
 with an echo in the stillness of noontide, and one by one 
 the inmates of the house and the innkeeper came to 
 the door and windows to listen. 
 
 While they sang, I looked beyond them, down the 
 road toward Penny Ferry, and saw, slowly approaching, 
 two carriages, each drawn by four stout horses, and be 
 hind them a country wain ; all three being well laden with 
 boxes and other gear, showing that some household was 
 broken up, and a part of its effects coming to town. I 
 stood and waited, knowing that here were Tories, 
 and that my services would soon be needed. Sang 
 Ephraim,
 
 AT THE SIGtf OF THE SUN. 103 
 
 ft ' Our Charter-Rights we claim, 
 Granted in ancient times, 
 Since our Forefathers came 
 First to these western climes: 
 Nor will their sons degenerate, 
 They freedom love oppression hate : 
 
 " ' If Gage should strike the blow, 
 We must for Freedom fight, 
 Undaunted courage show, 
 While we defend our right ; 
 In spite of the oppressive band 
 Maintain the freedom of the Land.'" 1 
 
 As the last note of Minot's song fell on our ears, the 
 foremost of the vehicles that I had seen approaching 
 drew up before the Sign of the Sun. I had recognized 
 the liveries at the first glance, and was therefore not 
 surprised when Sir Anthony's flushed face appeared at 
 the window. But he had no eyes for me ; having had 
 the benefit of Ephraim's music, he shook his cane at him. 
 
 " Maintain fiddlestick ! " shouted this irrepressible 
 old Tory, " it is such vagabonds as you who plunge the 
 country into rabble rule. Go back to your plow, fellow, 
 you are not fit to face a drummer-boy in the king's army." 
 
 There was a murmur of surprise and anger from the 
 group at the tavern door, but Ephraim was unruffled, 
 merely gazing calmly at his adversary. 
 
 " Nay," he said mildly, " the redcoats are out of 
 breath from running ; they can't fight us yet." 
 
 The bystanders encouraged this sally, and Sir Anthony 
 fumed, while Lady Talbot, who sat with him, tried to 
 soothe him. He was suffering with gout once more, and 
 had his foot upon the seat before him ; it may be that 
 the pain increased his wrath. His wife, a long-suffer- 
 
 1 Essex Gazette, Oct. 25, 1774.
 
 104 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 ing and gentle woman, laid a restraining hand upon his 
 arm, but he was deaf to her entreaties. 
 
 " A swarm of pestilential peasants," we heard him 
 say to her ; " do you think that I will let them insult 
 me? Damn it, madam, no ! " 
 
 Then he turned once more to the rustics. 
 
 " Ye are all fools or knaves," he said with passion, 
 " and are but sowing as ye shall reap ! What does this 
 petty resistance accomplish against the majesty of the 
 British government? You will be crushed like mud- 
 wasps at the last ; and those who counsel this madness* 
 are the more wicked, since they know that they but 
 lead you to destruction. Take heed, ere it be too 
 late ! " 
 
 This harangue was received with laughter, and 
 Ephraim as before was spokesman. 
 
 " Ask Lord Percy how the mud-wasps sting," he 
 said with a drawl in his voice ; " it may be a better 
 comparison than you thought it. I would not go to 
 Boston, either," he added thoughtfully, " if I were you, 
 for it will presently be an unpleasant abiding-place, 
 too hot for comfort. Yet what say you, comrades? 
 Perhaps it will be well for the Tories to get used to 
 hot places. I mean nothing personal, old gentleman," 
 he added mildly ; " I was ever a forgiving disposition, 
 from a child." 
 
 " You are an insolent dog," replied Sir Anthony, 
 staring at him in impotent fury. 
 
 It was then that I interfered ; at their arrival I had 
 at once busied myself in making out their passports, 
 knowing that there would soon be a collision, since 
 Sir Anthony could never hold his tongue. I proceeded 
 now with my associate, also an officer, to give the party 
 passes, and inspect their goods and chattels. At the
 
 AT THE SIGN OF THE SUN. 10$ 
 
 sight of me, my old friend broke out once more with 
 furious reproaches, which I heeded not, pretending that 
 I did not know that he addressed me. I spared him, 
 not only for his own sake, but because I saw the pained 
 and frightened face of Lady Talbot. I knew, too, that 
 there were other ears to listen to my words, and so 
 commanded my temper. From the first, I had been 
 aware that Joyce sat in the second carriage with her 
 woman, and only my pride kept me from approaching 
 it and forbade a glance in that direction, but I felt her 
 ^yes upon me, and knew that she saw me armed and 
 commissioned in the cause that she despised. Yet 
 when it fell out to be my portion to examine the vehi 
 cles in turn, that we might know who passed into the 
 town upon our permits, I went gravely to discharge my 
 duty. Coming to the carriage door, she and I looked 
 each other in the face once more. How defiant, too, 
 was the glance she gave me ! She sat there, erect and 
 proud, her white kerchief folded on her bosom, and 
 her frock of the soft tint of a dove's wing ; a pink rose 
 nestled under the brim of her bonnet, and the broad 
 pink ribbons were tied into a bow beneath her little 
 chin. Her cheeks were flushed with anger, as I thought, 
 and her lips were firmly closed. I greeted her with for 
 mal courtesy, she responding with as grand an air as any 
 queen. Standing so before her, with her scornful glance 
 upon me, I blushed and stammered like a foolish boy. 
 
 " I trust that you are well, Miss Talbot," I said, be 
 cause all other words failed me at the moment. 
 
 " Nay," she replied, " it makes me ill to see an old 
 friend and playfellow in so evil a business." 
 
 At this, my pride took fire. " I but do my duty," 
 I exclaimed, "and it is my sorrow that we are no 
 longer of one mind."
 
 106 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " ' We ! ' " she cried haughtily. " You mistake, sir, 
 the limit of old acquaintance. Once, indeed, you and I 
 thought alike, but now " She paused and I saw her 
 lips quiver, and my heart relented. " Now," she went 
 on, " we may be friends no longer, since you choose so 
 evil, so wicked a cause, against your king and mine." 
 
 " Against his ministers," I interrupted eagerly ; " the 
 king is sacred yet, but we will no longer bear the op 
 pression of his ministers. Believe me, Joyce, you are 
 misinformed; we are true subjects of the crown, but 
 freemen will not abide such laws as they have made ; 
 we could not, and be worthy of our blood. The king 
 must hear our righteous cause." 
 
 " And is it thus," she said, pointing to my sword, 
 " that you would speak to him ? " 
 
 " We must even defend our chartered liberties with 
 our blood," I replied warmly ; " but we are loyal 
 men." 
 
 " Nay, sir," she said coldly, " you are a rebel, and 
 no less ! " 
 
 I drew back sharply ; this was too much, and I saluted 
 her gravely and turned away. Sir Anthony was still 
 storming, and my fellow officer hastened to despatch 
 them, to be rid of the old Tory's furious tongue. I had 
 discharged my duty, and let them start upon their way, 
 speaking no more to my sweetheart, trying indeed to 
 look another way ; yet as the carriage passed before the 
 tavern door, she turned her head and our eyes met 
 again. Then it was that I saw that hers were dim with 
 tears, and she made a sudden faint-hearted gesture, 
 as though she waved her hand in token of farewell. 
 
 I stood there with a bitter heart ; verily she had her 
 revenge, since I found little happiness in the state of 
 being a rebel, as it pleased her to call me.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 MY RIVAL. 
 
 A SEASON of suspense ensued after Lexington; both 
 sides anticipated an attack, yet was neither strong enough 
 to take the initiative. Our army was soon greatly deci 
 mated ; the minute- men, who came at first so readily, 
 were not regularly enlisted, and expected to serve but 
 a few weeks and then return to their own firesides. 
 Under these conditions the force at Roxbury became 
 so small that General Thomas marched his seven hun 
 dred men around and around the hill in sight of Boston, 
 to deceive the enemy with a show of strength, and we 
 resorted to many like expedients. Yet, surrounded as 
 he was with so weak a foe, Mr. Gage remained in his 
 stronghold, stirring not a finger, when one good blow 
 would have told so bitterly against us. Verily, Provi 
 dence was with us, and thus the young country prevailed 
 against its enemies, although those years of blood and 
 trial were as the journey through the Wilderness. Great 
 was the contrast between the two armies. The patriots 
 lay outside of Boston, poorly armed and for the most 
 part poorly clad ; watching with eternal vigilance to 
 defend their homes from the cruel depredations of the 
 Ministerial troops. So few and scattered were the com 
 manders that some of them scarcely slept, and when 
 they snatched a moment, rested on their arms. For 
 my own part, many days and nights I could not shift
 
 108 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 my clothes or sleep, but went my rounds at all hours, 
 and had eight or nine miles to traverse each time, suf 
 fering much from weariness of body and sadness of 
 heart, since all my thoughts were in Boston, where there 
 was much gayety and indifference. The Ministerial 
 army, being well and warmly housed, and likely to be 
 soon reinforced by such numbers as would make them 
 in their own eyes invincible, were light of heart, and 
 Mr. Gage set the example by entertainments at Province 
 House. Masks and dances were of constant occurrence, 
 and the British began to insult the more quiet of the 
 inhabitants by open disregard of their sober and reli 
 gious customs ; there was much license among the offi 
 cers, many of whom were notorious for loose living, 
 gamblers and drunkards, which was an offence to the 
 Puritan spirit of the people, though the worst was yet 
 to come with General Burgoyne, who turned the Old 
 South Meeting-house into a riding-school and carried 
 his mistress with him upon that campaign which ended 
 in the surrender of his army to Gates. Before Bur 
 goyne and Mr. Howe arrived, with General Clinton, 
 some hot skirmishes took place, with no great loss on 
 either side, and favorable to the Americans, which gave 
 us sorely needed encouragement, but there was no 
 serious engagement. Our small victories, however, gave 
 us a number of British captives, and an exchange of 
 prisoners was arranged, which took place on the sixth 
 of June at Charlestown. There it was that I met Dick 
 Talbot again, on different terms from those of our last 
 interview. Now we were openly arrayed on opposite 
 sides, and he, I think, was half ashamed of his boyish 
 violence, and met me with a better grace, although he 
 found opportunity enough to torment me to his satisfac 
 tion But I must even tell the story as it happened.
 
 MY RIVAL. 109 
 
 It was noon when the Americans set out for Charles- 
 town with some show of military force. Dr. Warren 
 and General Putnam drove in a phaeton, while several 
 other officers rode on horseback, and I was with these, 
 being then detailed for special duties under Putnam. 
 We were escorted by the Wethersfield regiment, and 
 marching slowly through Charlestown halted at the ferry 
 about one o'clock. The militia presented an unusually 
 fine appearance, and acted with discipline and precision, 
 so that we had no cause to be ashamed of our organi 
 zation. The man-of-war, the Lively, lay in the ferry 
 ways, and at a given signal her boat was lowered, com 
 ing off with Major Moncrief and a party of royal officers, 
 among whom I recognized both Dick Talbot and Mr. 
 Beresford. Their uniforms were of the freshest scarlet, 
 and the sunlight sparkled on gold braid and burnished 
 sword-hilts, while their heads were powdered, and their 
 whole appearance and bearing that of dandies rather 
 than rugged soldiers. It was said that General Bur- 
 goyne was severe in his requirements, and that no pri 
 vate in his army could neglect his personal equipment ; 
 that he made non-commissioned officers and soldiers 
 crop their hair alike upon their foreheads. We Yankees, 
 who were so poor in clothing and in arms, looked with 
 contempt upon these regulations, which seemed rather 
 for the court than for the camp. The provincial offi 
 cers, upon that day, were plainly garbed, with no in 
 signia of rank, so the contrast was the sharper between 
 the two parties. Major Moncrief and General Putnam 
 were old friends, and their greeting was so affectionate 
 and cordial that it shamed the others from any coldness ; 
 and as I met Dick without sign of offence, he was con 
 strained to return my greeting with courtesy. His hand 
 some boyish face was flushed with embarrassment, but
 
 1 10 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 I forgave him all his faults for the sake of the likeness 
 that he bore to Joyce, and knowing, too, that he had but 
 inherited his birthright in the fiery, overbearing temper 
 of the Talbots. That which most offended me was the 
 evident intimacy and affection which he bestowed upon 
 Beresford, and I took this opportunity to measure my 
 rival. That he was a man likely to find favor in a 
 woman's eyes, I could not deny; he was made for a 
 soldier, and bore himself with grace and a conscious air 
 of his own merits. He was handsome, too, with the 
 clear white skin of the English; his eyes were blue, 
 while mine were brown ; my hair also was a bright 
 shade of brown or chestnut, while his was flaxen as a 
 child's where a lock escaped the powdering; and he 
 wore his uniform with a jaunty air. He was a trifle 
 taller than I, and more easy, for I was slow and delib 
 erate both in movement and in speech, and often left 
 that which was nearest my heart unspoken because of 
 my hesitation. He was the man to win the graces of 
 the other sex, and I had heard it rumored that he was 
 but too often a successful suitor ; that he danced well, 
 sang well, and wrote verses, an accomplishment then 
 much esteemed by the young gallants. I found little 
 comfort therefore in the observation of my rival, and it 
 ruffled my temper to see him walk away with his arm 
 linked in Dick's, affectionately intimate. 
 
 The whole party adjourned to the house of Dr. 
 Foster, a Whig, where an entertainment had been pro 
 vided for the royalists, and we ate and drank together 
 with much amiability and with no suspicion of ill-feeling. 
 The cordiality of the two parties was not even ruffled by 
 the formalities of the exchange of prisoners which pres 
 ently ensued ; it was difficult to realize that these men 
 were likely soon to meet, sword in hand, on the field of
 
 RIVAL. 1 1 1 
 
 battle. It is such scenes as these that are perplexing to 
 the raw recruit who cannot comprehend the courtesies 
 of civilized warfare. Our royalist prisoners, too, ac 
 knowledged warmly the good treatment that they had 
 received, and some of those who were wounded and had 
 been kindly nursed even shed tears of gratitude ; but I 
 observed that the patriots whom the British surrendered 
 in return had no such acknowledgments to make. 
 Some of these were prisoners of war, taken at Lexington 
 and elsewhere on that day, and others were Boston 
 Whigs who had offended by too warm an affection for 
 their country's cause. The formalities of the exchange 
 and the entertainment detained us several hours, so that 
 it was nearly six o'clock in the evening when we pro 
 ceeded once more to the ferry where the barge from the 
 Lively was waiting for the royalists. In the ferry-ways 
 lay the grim vessels, the Somerset and the Lively, and 
 the batteries across the channel bristled with cannon, 
 while behind us, in Charlestown and beyond, were our 
 lines, with pickets 'posted at every outlet of the town. 
 The "piping time of peace" was no more, and now 
 the bugle sounded in the stillness, its shrill notes waking 
 an echo across the waters. 
 
 It was when we stood beside the barge of the Lively, 
 where our superior officers parted with good will and 
 kindness, that I forced my reluctant tongue to obey me 
 and ask Dick if Joyce was well and happy. Beresford 
 had already left us, and stood waiting at the boat, and 
 at my question I saw a flash of malicious enjoyment in 
 young Talbot's eyes and half regretted my inquiry. 
 
 " Ay," he said, smiling, " my sister is both well and 
 happy, as she should be, in the midst of loyal people and 
 protected by the royal troops. Marblehead had become 
 a nest of pirates and was no place for them, especially
 
 112 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 my father, since he cannot endure with patience this 
 new heresy." 
 
 " Happily I have learned to bear with toleration the 
 abuse of our cause," I replied dryly, " or you and I 
 might once more quarrel over words. I fear me, how 
 ever, that the good town yonder may presently be no 
 very comfortable abiding-place, but let your mother and 
 your sister bear in mind that they have an old acquaint 
 ance across the ferry, and shall lack no friendship." 
 
 His lip curled scornfully, and he treated my reply 
 with the disdain that the royalist felt for our rustic 
 array. 
 
 " I trust that the king's soldiers may be clever enough 
 to vanquish pitchforks, friend Allen," he retorted, 
 laughing lightly. " Your rustics cannot always find a 
 stone wall to fight behind, and I do not anticipate any 
 great battle when his Majesty's forces are in motion. 
 The capture of a horse or a cow elates you too much." 
 
 "Nay," I said calmly, "we are content to bide our 
 time with patience ; a righteous caus'e must at the last 
 prevail." 
 
 " You were ever pious, Allen," Dick replied- gayly, 
 " but your long-faced Yankees know better how to 
 pray than to fight. But fare ye well until we meet 
 again." 
 
 Major Moncrief had parted with General Putnam, and 
 we had but a moment left for speech. 
 
 " Remember me to your sister," I said quietly, look 
 ing Talbot gravely in the eye. 
 
 " I will bear your message," he rejoined with a 
 defiant glance, "but Joyce has but little patience with 
 you rebels. Yonder is my brother-in-law which is to 
 be," he added, smiling, as he indicated Beresford, who 
 was already in the barge.
 
 My RIVAL. 1 1 3 
 
 ''This is news to me," I said haughtily, "since Miss 
 Talbot herself denied the rumor to me." 
 
 " Nevertheless, you will presently see that it is true," 
 he answered sharply, and left me with a gesture of 
 farewell, having to leap into the boat, which was already 
 putting off. 
 
 Now, it was true that I did not believe in Dick's 
 assertion, being assured that he but made it to torment 
 and defy me ; yet when I saw the barge departing with 
 those two, Beresford and her brother, side by side in 
 the stern, it cost me a sharp pang of jealousy and pain. 
 Might it not well be as he said? What hope had 1, a 
 rebel in her eyes, ay, a traitor, to win her? I set my 
 teeth, and turned my back upon the town that held her, 
 and swore that I would forget her and the love I bore 
 her but, as you know, I did not keep my oath.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A MIDNIGHT VIGIL. 
 
 IT was but a few days after the exchange of prisoners 
 that Mr. Gage issued a proclamation insulting and ar 
 rogant in tone. It declared martial law, after formally 
 citing the rebellious conduct of the multitudes and 
 offering pardon only to those " rebels and traitors " who 
 at once laid down their arms. Samuel Adams and John 
 Hancock were excepted, because their offences, so ran 
 the proclamation, were of " too flagitious a nature to 
 admit of any other consideration than that of condign 
 punishment." The colonists bitterly resented this attack 
 upon their most trusted leaders, and the governor's 
 conduct served to kindle the flames of war. 
 
 The country was deeply agitated, and the cause of the 
 Massachusetts Bay was awakening the sympathy of all 
 her sister colonies. The Congress at Philadelphia, two 
 days after Mr. Gage's proclamation, formally adopted 
 our army, calling it the Continental Army. On that 
 day, too, Colonel George Washington was unanimously 
 elected commander-in-chief of the colonial forces. His 
 nomination caused some surprise amongst us ; for we 
 had felt confident that a New England man would be 
 chosen, since all the trouble centered now in Massachu 
 setts. Some had looked to General Ward, and it was 
 even rumored that Mr. Hancock expected the appoint 
 ment, but all who knew the high character of Mr. 
 Washington were well content with the choice. My
 
 A MIDNIGHT VIGIL. 11$ 
 
 father and many others had desired it, and we who were 
 at the camp longed greatly for the presence of a com 
 mander who would reconcile all differences and direct 
 the entire army. The colonies were unhappily inclined 
 to act with too great an independence of each other, and 
 our only harmony was our common cause against a 
 common foe. 
 
 By the middle of June there were many contradictory 
 rumors of the enemy's designs, but one thing seemed 
 certain ; they purposed to seize and occupy both Charles- 
 town Heights and Dorchester Heights, and it was appar 
 ent that we must take measures to defeat this effort, 
 since to permit them to occupy such commanding posi 
 tions would mean certain disaster to our forces. My 
 father's prominence assured me a place in the confi 
 dence of the commanders, and I was sometimes present 
 at their councils, though my military rank did not entitle 
 me to a consideration. My name won me admittance, 
 and thus I was not as ignorant of the designs of our 
 officers as were others, and I understood the meaning of 
 the orders when they came. Hitherto we had made 
 but small attempts at fortification, although breastworks 
 had been thrown up in Cambridge, where our main 
 body lay, and another breastwork near Prospect Hill, 
 but we were poorly supplied with artillery. The troops 
 of Massachusetts Bay were at Cambridge and Roxbury, 
 and I was with those at the former place. We were 
 quartered in the buildings of Harvard College, in the 
 church, and in tents. The greater part of the Connecti 
 cut troops were at Inman's Farm, but a part of Little's 
 regiment was at the tavern at Menotomy. We had also 
 a strong detachment at Lechmere's Point; troops lay 
 too at Chelsea, Medford, and Charlestown Neck. But 
 we were raw recruits at best, while Mr. Gage had already
 
 Il6 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 received strong reinforcements of veterans and tried 
 ofificers to pit against us. 
 
 On the sixteenth of June an order was issued which 
 surprised and confused many. The regiments of Frye, 
 Bridge, and Prescott were commanded to parade with 
 their intrenchment tools at six o'clock in the evening. 
 No explanation was vouchsafed, and but a few divined 
 the purpose of the call. It was with much curiosity and 
 some perplexity that the men assembled at the appointed 
 hour. The full number did not respond, and the troops 
 of the Massachusetts Bay and Connecticut mustered 
 scarcely twelve hundred strong. They were directed to 
 bring provisions for twenty-four hours, an order which 
 was not strictly obeyed, and the neglect, due more to 
 inexperience than wilful disobedience, caused much suf 
 fering. We marched out in good order, and paraded on 
 the Common before General Ward's house at Cambridge. 
 It was a little before sunset, and the great elms cast long 
 shadows on the ground, and the low notes of the robin 
 and the thrush thrilled sweetly from the hedgerows and 
 the orchards. 
 
 We had been, doubtless, too much elated with our 
 successes on the day of Lexington and at Noddle's 
 Island, and there was talk of driving the redcoats out of 
 Boston, so that we, who were called together on the 
 Common, were full of hope and anticipation of future 
 success. Men who had never been upon the field of 
 battle knew not yet its terrors, and those who were to 
 be least gallant in action were bravest in their talk. 
 
 We were detained some time at Cambridge, and finally 
 President Langdon of Harvard College offered a fervent 
 prayer, invoking the blessing of Heaven upon our enter 
 prise, before we set out on our march. It was about 
 nine o'clock when more than a thousand resolute men
 
 A MIDNIGHT VIGIL. I I 7 
 
 <\ 
 turned their faces toward Charlestown Neck. There 
 
 was no moon, and in the darkness our numbers seemed 
 the greater ; only the lights shone from the windows of 
 General Ward's house, the rays slanting obliquely to the 
 ground and making small spots of illumination in the 
 night. We were enjoined to maintain strict silence, and 
 there was no sound but the tramp of the slow-moving 
 companies falling in line, and the creak of the wagons 
 that followed, carrying the tools. As we set forth, two 
 sergeants preceded us with dark lanterns ; then came the 
 tall erect form of Colonel Prescott, who commanded the 
 detachment.. He was a veteran of the French wars, 
 and, possessing one of the rare uniforms in the camp, he 
 wore it upon this occasion. It was blue, the coat single- 
 breasted with facings, and he had also a three-cornered 
 hat and a top wig. This outfit and his fine presence 
 made him a notable figure, and he was soon to show us 
 of what stuff he was made. 
 
 Silently we marched, and the lights of Cambridge 
 faded behind us as we passed on upon the road to 
 Charlestown. At the Neck we halted, for here the 
 orders were to be communicated to the men and we 
 stood waiting ; the waters of the Charles on one side 
 and the Mystic on the other, black and quiet. Here 
 Major Brooks and General Putnam came up, and the 
 object of the expedition was disclosed to all, being 
 received with enthusiasm. We were to occupy and in 
 trench Bunker Hill, a height which overlooked the town 
 of Boston and which the British had threatened to seize. 
 Captain Nutting was now despatched to the lower end of 
 Charlestown to act as a guard, while the rest of the 
 detachment proceeded with all speed and caution to 
 Bunker Hill. Here there was a consultation of officers 
 and some dispute. The orders were to fortify this hill,
 
 Il8 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 
 
 but we inclined to, and finally decided upon, the height 
 nearer Boston, called then Charlestown or Green's Hill, 
 but since, by common consent, named, after Breed's 
 Pasture, Breed's Hill; there we took up our position, 
 intending also to fortify Bunker Hill to cover a retreat. 
 There was no further delay ; as soon as we reached the 
 eminence our packs were thrown aside, the guns 
 stacked, and privates and officers labored side by side 
 upon the fortifications. Colonel Gridley, the engineer, 
 mapped out the plan, and by twelve o'clock all hands 
 were at work save those who were despatched for sentry 
 duty, which portion fell to my lot. Colonel Prescott 
 sent Captain Maxwell and a party to patrol the shore by 
 the old ferry and watch the enemy, so close at hand, both 
 upon land and water. A chain of sentinels lined the 
 opposite shore at Boston, and the ships of war lay 
 around the peninsula of Charlestown. The Falcon was 
 at Moulton's Point, the Lively across the water by the 
 shipyard ; the Somerset at the ferry, and the others close 
 by ; and there were also floating batteries. It seemed 
 scarcely possible that we could escape their vigilance, 
 and great precaution was the more necessary. 
 
 Captain Maxwell's party, to which I belonged, pro 
 ceeded quietly down the hill toward the ferry-ways. The 
 warm darkness sheltered us, and we made no sound upon 
 the turf, but we could hear the thud of pick and spade 
 behind us, and to our anxious ears the sounds seemed 
 tremendous. Above, the dark sky was gemmed with stars, 
 and before us the black waters of the channel flowed 
 serenely calm. I remember that the wild roses and the 
 barberries were blooming on the hillside, and the long grass 
 was heavy with moisture beneath our feet. Across the ferry 
 the lights of Boston twinkled, and lights shone, too, upon 
 the shipping, warning us where lay the men-of-war. On
 
 A MIDNIGHT VIGIL. 119 
 
 our right glimmered here and there a faint-hearted light 
 in the doomed village of Charlestown, now almost depopu 
 lated because of the dread of the guns of the Ministerial 
 army, and soon to receive so dreadful a visitation. When 
 we reached the shore, we paused to listen, and heard, 
 with a thrill of thankfulness, the sentry's drowsy cry, 
 " All 's well ! " It came floating across the tide from 
 the Boston shore, and from the ships sounded the same 
 low response, " All 's well ! " How strangely doth fate 
 infatuate its victims ! Here were repose and indifference, 
 while a sleepless foe labored upon the height to bring 
 destruction. Thus is it but too often, when death waits 
 for us beside the threshold and our unwary feet stumble 
 at the door. 
 
 We dared not hazard speech with one another, and in 
 silence patrolled the shore through the long watches of 
 the night. A silence of man, but not of nature ; many a 
 soft sound thrilled in the darkness ; the gentle sigh of 
 the waves rippling on the beach, the murmur of insect 
 life upon the hillside, the low cry of a startled waterfowl 
 from the marshes, the distant baying of some watchful 
 hound. Far out upon the bay, night had stretched its 
 sable wings, while overhead watched the midnight stars. 
 And again the sentinels answered, " All 's well ! " 
 
 Strange and sad were my reflections, although my 
 blood stirred at the thought of the approaching conflict, 
 of this action that would seal the fate of the colony. 
 There had been some hesitation, on the part of our sister 
 colonies, to adopt our open measures, but another day 
 would doubtless establish a state of war in Massachusetts 
 Bay, and there would be no longer any half-way measures. 
 It was a bold, a desperate step then to us ; we must win 
 our cause or perish. To be taken by the enemy meant 
 not a soldier's fate, traitors they called us, and all such
 
 120 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 would surely hang ; and the thought of so shameful a 
 death sent the cold blood to many a brave heart. Yet 
 withal, my mind dwelt less on these things than on the 
 quiet town of Boston, since there was one who held my 
 heart. Ay, the thought of her was with me all the 
 night. How fared she? Had she danced a few hours 
 since at the ball at Province House? It might be, and 
 with Beresford, while her rebel lover trod the farther 
 shore, watching the sentinels that guarded her, watching 
 that his comrades might erect their fortifications to 
 threaten the town. " Nay, sir," were her last words to 
 me, " you are a rebel and no less ! " Doubtless she 
 would so call me when the morning light revealed the 
 bristling height. 
 
 Meanwhile the intrenchments grew apace. Near day 
 break Colonel Prescott came down to the river, and find 
 ing the enemy quiet, recalled us to the height. The 
 earthworks were now raised six feet or so, and the work 
 was still going on. The soldiers were weary with their 
 endeavors, and we all aided with pick and spade ; rank 
 being little considered among these volunteers. So 
 diligent were we that the fortifications were in fair con 
 dition when the white dawn came, in a keen line, 
 between sky and sea. Then, with a sullen roar, the 
 thunder of artillery began. The watch upon the Lively 
 had discerned our intrenchments with the first daylight, 
 and immediately the good ship slipped her moorings, 
 opening fire upon the height, and cannon-balls tore the 
 ground about us. This firing presently ceased, but only 
 to be renewed by a cannonade from Copp's Hill and 
 from all the men-of-war, the latter moving into position 
 to rake the hill and its approaches. Happily, our works 
 in a great measure protected us, else would our raw 
 recruits have faltered under so new and fearful an on-
 
 A MIDNIGHT VIGIL, 121 
 
 slaught ; it was, as General Putnam had said, that if our 
 legs were sheltered, we would fight, since the American 
 thought not of his head, in action, but greatly of his 
 legs. When one poor fellow was killed, some left the 
 intrenchments and returned no more, and great horror 
 was expressed at his sudden burial. General Prescott, 
 seeing how his lifeless body dispirited the men, had 
 ordered an immediate interment, and the good people, 
 accustomed to solemn funerals, were profoundly dis 
 turbed, the chaplain saying a hasty prayer in spite of our 
 commander's impatience. For a brief space the cour 
 age of the militia was so shaken that Prescott leaped 
 upon the parapet and walked there, regardless of the fly 
 ing balls, and his intrepidity aroused their drooping 
 spirits so that they began to be less fearful, and pres 
 ently were again composed. Their resolution, too, was 
 quickened by the delay of the enemy, who came not to 
 attack us until noon ; but the heat was oppressive and 
 the men were weary, and having neglected to bring suffi 
 cient provisions suffered much, and it was long before 
 Colonel Prescott would consent to send for reinforce 
 ments. Those who had labored through the night 
 should have the glory of the victory, he said ; but 
 the men were spent, and in but poor condition to en 
 dure the battle; our ammunition, too, needed to be 
 increased. 
 
 A little before noon, the enemy began to stir in 
 Boston ; dragoons galloped through the streets and ar 
 tillery carriages were in motion. We watched, with 
 eager and anxious interest, many a stout heart quiver 
 ing at the anticipation of a first battle, while our ears 
 were deafened by the roar of cannon, as the ships 
 moved into position to protect the landing on the 
 peninsula. We saw the splendid array of military trap-
 
 122 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 pings as the Ministerial army marched down to the Long 
 Wharf and North Battery, where the embarkation took 
 place, and under cover of their guns the barges moved 
 toward Charlestown. The scarlet uniforms, like a blaze 
 of fire, filled the boats, and the sun flashed back from 
 burnished arms and polished cannon. Never advanced 
 an army with greater pomp or more indifference to a 
 rustic foe, and upon the hill our weary troops looked 
 down and waited, with anxious hearts but an unwavering 
 purpose to uphold the cause.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE CONFLICT. 
 
 THE Ministerial army landed without opposition at 
 Moulton's Point, but there halted as if to survey our 
 works. Already, wrought to a state of intense excite 
 ment, we looked down upon their glittering array with 
 mingled feelings. A battle was inevitable, and how 
 would these raw recruits endure the charge of troops 
 that had served with conspicuous gallantry in Europe ? 
 I do confess that as I stood there, measuring our 
 weakness and their strength, my heart was filled with 
 forebodings. Defeat would probably mean the destruc 
 tion of Cambridge, and would cripple our cause : our 
 sister colonies, who were not yet committed to open 
 hostilities, would fall away from the losing side, and the 
 Massachusetts Bay would be left to bear the full force of 
 the enemy's vengeance. Such being the case, it re 
 mained for us to fight with such desperate courage as to 
 redeem the situation. Many murmured because no re 
 inforcements came for a long while, and it appeared as 
 if we had been deserted, left to our fate. Scarcely any 
 provisions reached us, either, and the passage at the Neck 
 was so enfiladed by the enemy's cannon that it seemed 
 well nigh impossible to relieve the height. Happily, 
 however, Dr. Warren, now called General Warren, since 
 he had been so commissioned by Congress, and General 
 Putnam came to us at this moment of suspense, and
 
 124 A YANA'EE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 brought tidings of reinforcements, which cheered the 
 drooping spirits of the men. 
 
 I stood at the redoubt, looking down upon the 
 regulars, who were eating their dinners in full view of 
 the hungry Americans, and at my elbow was Ephraim 
 Minot. His ardor was not overshadowed by the mo 
 ment, and he constantly cheered and enlivened the 
 men about him. He leaned upon the earthworks and 
 gazed calmly upon the redcoats, a twinkle in his small 
 light eyes. 
 
 " This is adding insult to injury, as General Gage 
 would say," he remarked in his drawling tone ; " it is 
 enough to pelt us with their balls without eating their 
 dinner before us. Here am I, as good a man as any 
 Britisher there, and I have but the memory of beans, 
 and they've been sticking in my chest a fortnight." 
 
 " We may be presently where it does n't much 
 matter," responded a sober-faced rustic beside him. 
 
 " Nay," said Ephraim, giving him a scornful glance, 
 " it may make you happier to die with an empty stom 
 ach, but such is not my case. I 'd like a sandwich to 
 help me over the river." 
 
 " We 've very little powder," began the lugubrious 
 stranger. 
 
 "You don't eat powder, do ye?" exclaimed Ephraim, 
 sharply. 
 
 " We have n't enough to fight them with," the other 
 went on, unheeding ; " and see, there come more redcoats 
 from the Long Wharf." 
 
 He pointed, as he spoke, to the barges, once more 
 loaded with troops, that were leaving Boston. Evidently 
 Mr. Howe regarded our position as strong enough to 
 demand a strong attacking party. 
 
 " More red devils," remarked Ephraim, serenely ; " the
 
 THE CONFLICT. 12$ 
 
 gay uniforms will be shining marks for our muskets, and 
 we are ordered to reserve our fire until we can pick 
 them off." 
 
 " Or they pick us off," responded the melancholy 
 minute-man, as he looked to his weapon. 
 
 " Cheer up, my lad," said Minot ; and leaning on his 
 musket he began to sing softly one of the new patriot 
 ditties, and the men about us brightened at the sound 
 of his voice. There, waiting for the enemy, he sang 
 this song gayly to the end, 
 
 " Hark ! 't is Freedom that calls, come, Patriots, awake ! 
 To arms, my brave Boys, and away; 
 'T is Honor, "t is Virtue, 't is Liberty calls, 
 And upbraids the too tedious Delay. 
 What Pleasure we find in pursuing our Foes, 
 Thro' Blood and thro' Carnage we '11 fly; 
 Then follow, we '11 soon overtake them, Huzza ! 
 The Tyrants are seized on, they die. 
 
 " Triumphant returning, with Freedom secured, 
 Like Men we '11 be joyful and gay, 
 With our Wives and our Friends we will sport, love and 
 
 drink, 
 
 And lose the Fatigues of the Day. 
 'T is Freedom alone gives a Relish to Mirth, 
 But Oppression all Happiness sours ; 
 It will smooth Life's dull Passage, 't will slope the Descent, 
 And strew the Way over with Flowers." 1 
 
 Before Ephraim had ceased singing, there was a more 
 cheerful expression on many a grave face ; and we had 
 need now to be encouraged, since the attack was 
 imminent. 
 
 We were but poorly off for artillery, and had re 
 sponded but feebly to the cannonade of our foes ; later, 
 
 1 From the " New England Chronicle," May 18, 1775.
 
 126 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 one officer of our artillery company deserted his post 
 at the hour of danger, for which he was afterwards 
 cashiered. Poorly armed, with a short supply of powder, 
 and scarcely a handful of bayonets amongst us ; ex 
 hausted by the fatigues of qur long vigil ; hungry and 
 overcome with the burning heat of the midday sun, we 
 waited to receive an enemy, fresh, disciplined, and 
 fully equipped, whose cannon swept the little peninsula 
 with shot and shell. Surely, the Lord of Hosts fought 
 with the young colonies, else would we never have pre 
 vailed ! But as David's sling of stones prevailed against 
 Goliath, because his cause was a just cause, so did 
 our weakness overcome the might of the oppressor. 
 Thus will it be ever ; the power of an unrighteous 
 enemy will fall at last before the truth. Our defeat 
 upon that day was but the beginning of our victory. 
 
 A fearful and deafening discharge of artillery covered 
 the advance of the enemy. They had formed in two 
 divisions ; the right wing moving upon the fence at the 
 foot of Bunker Hill, where Colonel Prescott had sta 
 tioned troops to prevent them from turning our flank. 
 The left wing advanced to storm the redoubt, where 
 we waited in breathless suspense. A splendid spec 
 tacle was that noble array ; brave men they were, and 
 resolutely, gayly they marched. The long lines of 
 bayonets flashed in the sunlight, and their scarlet 
 coats were gay as for a festival. Before them, with in 
 trepid gallantry, came on their officers, waving their 
 bright blades aloft to encourage their men. Alas ! how 
 many fell, marks for the keen riflemen above them ! 
 " Wait until you see the whites of their eyes," was our 
 order ; and when a few soldiers disobeyed and fired as 
 the enemy advanced, we who were in command, follow 
 ing Colonel Prescott's example, sprang upon the para-
 
 THE CONFLICT. I2/ 
 
 pet and kicked their guns aside. Not a grain of powder 
 could be wasted at an hour such as this. The redcoats 
 fired upon us as they came ; but their aim was untrue, 
 and not a man fell. In that fearful moment, looking 
 down upon them, I saw the boyish face of Richard 
 Talbot, and my heart sank within me. He was charging 
 at the head of his company, his graceful figure a con 
 spicuous mark, and his whole bearing gallant and right 
 noble. I touched the arm of Ephraim, who was waiting 
 with his finger on the trigger. 
 
 " You see him," I said huskily, pointing out the boy ; 
 and Minot nodded gravely. " Spare the lad if you can," 
 I added sadly, " save him, if you can." 
 
 " I would not harm him," Ephraim answered soberly; 
 " he has a soldier's heart, but there is a slim chance for a 
 redcoat this day." 
 
 " I know it ! " I exclaimed ; " but the poor lad the 
 brave lad it will break her heart if he falls," I went on 
 to myself, and for the time forgot to feel a tremor at this 
 my first battle, though the shot rained like hail. 
 
 Then came the fearful moment when we fired. Each 
 man was a marksman, and every ball sped on a deadly 
 errand ; the royalists fell on all sides, but they were 
 veterans, and our fire was returned. A second volley 
 strewed the ground before us with the dead and dying, 
 the cries of the wounded rending the air. Eagerly I 
 watched, and yet that gallant young figure was erect ; and 
 now, too, a retreat was ordered by their commander, 
 General Pigot. A wild shout of exultation burst from 
 the Americans ; our hearts thrilled madly at this first 
 victory, it seemed as if the day were ours. Yet even at 
 this auspicious moment, when their right wing also had 
 fallen back before the patriots at the foot of the hill, 
 Charlestown was set on fire, both from the shells and by
 
 128 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 the enemy's marines, and the doomed village burst 
 forth in flames, the black smoke rising like a tempest 
 cloud against the peerless blue of the June skies. The 
 fire rushed along the streets and leaped upon the roofs 
 and spires, adding yet another horror to that tremen 
 dous scene. And now the redcoats rallied and returned 
 to the charge, although they walked over the bodies of 
 their fallen comrades, trod on them as they would upon 
 logs, thus does war harden the hearts of men. This 
 second attack was directed upon the party at the fence, 
 and right gallantly were our enemies repulsed. It was a 
 wild scene ; the flames from Charlestown darting in the 
 air, while the black smoke foiled away, revealing the 
 glittering ranks of the enemy. Splendid was their 
 charge, and the figure of General Howe was conspicuous 
 in their midst, urging them to yet greater efforts ; but the 
 merciless fire of the Americans covered the ground with 
 the dead and dying. We upon the heights waited and 
 watched ; the roar of artillery and the shouts of the 
 combatants deafened our ears. Gallantly, desperately the 
 royalists rallied and charged, and our men suffered too 
 from the terrible rain of shot. At last the British 
 wavered, broke, fell back, and the wild cheers of victory 
 burst from the Yankees. Our hearts beat high with 
 hope ; the regulars were not invincible. There was yet 
 the possibility of victory, but unhappily our powder was 
 well nigh exhausted. In the interval before the final 
 attack Colonel Prescott went the rounds among the 
 men with praise for their good conduct. Poor fellows, 
 exhausted with labor and hard fighting, they merited 
 and needed encouragement. We who knew how low 
 was the supply of powder, looked with anxious eyes upon 
 the enemy ; we were even forced to use cannon car 
 tridges to load our muskets, and one company of artillery
 
 THE CONFLICT. 1 29 
 
 had deserted, so that General Putnam himself served 
 the guns and begged for help to drag the cannon into 
 position. Thus, exhausted and poorly armed, we waited 
 and saw the British rallying for a final assault. They 
 had now brought their guns to bear upon the breast 
 works, and the hot fire drove us into the redoubt. They 
 made but a demonstration at the rail fence ; their object 
 was to storm the redoubt, and we knew that our hour 
 had come. Gallantly they advanced, though our bullets 
 had so fearfully depleted their ranks. Our fire was re 
 served until the last, yet it slackened but too soon, from 
 lack of ammunition, and divining our situation they 
 rushed to the charge, their bayonets flashing in our eyes. 
 On three sides the bullets rained a leaden tempest, and 
 the deep roar of the artillery shook the ground beneath 
 us, while the shrieks of the wounded rent our hearts. 
 Wildly, splendidly, the redcoats charged with the bayo 
 net ; the first man, a gallant youth, who leaped upon the 
 redoubt was killed by one of our bullets, but they came 
 on, unheeding, like a mighty torrent, and we who stood 
 to cover the retreat that Colonel Prescott ordered, fought 
 them hand to hand. Thank Heaven that such a scene 
 as that is rare ; so hot a fire, they said, was not at Min- 
 den. Three brave men fell beside me, and a bullet 
 pierced my coat ; my ammunition was exhausted, but I 
 fought with the butt end of my musket, while Ephraim, 
 who still kept near me, sprang upon a redcoat, wrenched 
 his weapon from his hand, and slew him with his own 
 bullet. Even at that fearful moment I looked for Dick 
 Talbot, but saw him not, and at last gave way, re 
 treating with Colonel Prescott, who was almost the last 
 to leave the redoubt. A scene of awful carnage, the 
 dead and dying lying thick about us, and I fell, stumbling 
 upon a body, for the ground was slippery with blood. 
 
 9
 
 130 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 Without Ephraim I should have been slain, for as I rose a 
 royalist sprang at me with his bayonet, and in a moment 
 would have despatched me but for my faithful follower's 
 strong arm. Minot struck him from behind and felled 
 him, and helping me to my feet, fought beside me until 
 we reached the main body. We heard the triumphant 
 cheers of the British as they took possession of the redoubt, 
 but it had cost them dear. The gallant force of patriots at 
 the rail fence stood their ground, nobly covering our de 
 parture. We were now in full retreat, but at the brow of 
 Bunker Hill brave General Putnam rode along the lines, 
 striving in vain to rally the troops to make one desperate 
 stand. Here it was that I aided in drawing off the one 
 fieldpiece that was saved, and here a few of us stood 
 with Putnam and the gallant Pomeroy, until the bayonets 
 of the enemy were upon us ; but at last we were com 
 pelled to retire, crossing the Neck under the fire of the 
 British ships, but one of our cannon being left to cover 
 our retreat. 
 
 Shattered and worn, with smoke and flame in the 
 rear, and the fire of shot and shell raining upon them, 
 the Americans crossed over, and that dreadful day was 
 lost, lost and won. We who bore the heat and tra 
 vail received rather blame than praise, yet on that day 
 the United Provinces were, in spirit, victorious and 
 England's sovereignty was no more. But the colony 
 was thrown into mourning by the death of the gallant 
 Warren, who fell upon the height, and whose loss could 
 not be repaired. He was a brave and loyal gentleman, 
 and had cheerfully given his life for his country, and his 
 memory is yet sacred in the hearts of those who knew 
 him and esteemed his pure and noble character.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE CONTINENTAL CAMP. 
 
 NIGHT came upon the scene of that fierce battle, but 
 it was scarcely less full of terror than the day. The 
 sky was fearfully illumined with the fires of Charlestown, 
 burning yet ; the keen flames cutting the darkness like 
 fiery knives, and the dense cloud of smoke obscuring 
 even the stars overhead. The conflagration lighted the 
 waters of the Charles and of the Mystic, on either hand, 
 revealing the town and the field of battle, strewn with 
 dead and dying. Away from this deadly brightness, 
 the country behind Boston lay by contrast in the thick 
 night, no gleam of light revealing the patriot army. 
 The thundering roar of the British guns shook the air, 
 the cannonade continuing even until the afternoon of 
 the next day, which was the Sabbath, and Mr. Howe 
 and his troops rested upon their arms on Bunker Hill. 
 Our soldiers lay not far distant; the New Hampshire 
 troops camping that night on Winter Hill, while General 
 Putnam halted a detachment upon Prospect Hill, called 
 more often Mount Pisgah ; it was a strong position, and 
 both these hills were fortified and held by our army. 
 
 There was deep disappointment in our camp at the 
 loss of the battle, and General Ward expected no less 
 than that the Ministerial army would march on Cam 
 bridge to destroy our entire force and seize the magazine. 
 On Sunday the Committee of Safety sent out circulars
 
 132 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 summoning the militia on every side to strengthen our 
 arms. It was long before we learned that a like trepi 
 dation prevailed in Boston, where the British expected 
 an assault, ay, thought that we should lay the town in 
 ashes to avenge our loss. Thus each party feared the 
 other, and so both were spared to recover from their 
 losses. We were not the only sufferers, though bitter 
 was the resentment at the burning of Charlestown, but 
 the streets of Boston were filled with the procession 
 bringing in their dead, the flower of their army having 
 been sacrificed. On the very night of the battle they 
 began to fortify Bunker Hill and strengthen their de 
 fences, which betrayed, at least, the fact that they no 
 longer scorned their enemies, rustics though we were ; 
 it was not until a shower fell, on the afternoon of the 
 Sabbath, that their artillery ceased its deafening roar. 
 The black smoke, still rising from the ruins of Charles- 
 town, told the story of the four hundred buildings lying 
 in ashes. Much property had been lost in the fire ; 
 many Bostonians had secreted goods there which per 
 ished, though some valuables escaped not only the fire 
 but the pillage of the British, and were recovered in 
 the end. 
 
 The battle was over, but the effects of it were but 
 begun. War existed now between the colonies and the 
 mother country, and half-way measures were forever 
 at an end. Patriotism and sympathy fired every true 
 American, and the colonists were more eager to embrace 
 the cause of Massachusetts Bay. Yet our position was 
 hazardous enough ; we had but a weak force to meet 
 the power of the Ministry, and to lose was entire ruin, 
 since in truth we were as men with halters about our 
 necks. More than this, to fail would be to fasten the 
 chains of slavery on our people ; once victorious, the
 
 THE CONTINENTAL CAMP. 133 
 
 Ministry would crush opposition with an iron hand ; 
 the colonies would not only fail to win their rights, but 
 would lose such liberties as still remained to them. 
 Therefore it was with desperation that we intrenched 
 our army and waited for the issue of the conflict. For 
 tifications were strengthened at Cambridge and at Rox- 
 bury, the camp being constantly disturbed by rumors 
 of a British sally, and our works were shelled after some 
 of our Indians killed four of the regulars. It was the 
 Indians of the Stockbridge tribe, enlisted with the min 
 ute-men, who constantly picked off the enemy's sentries, 
 being skilled with their arrows, and the British were 
 slow to learn their stealthy tricks of warfare. Late in 
 June there was a skirmish at Boston Neck, the regulars 
 coming out at daybreak to attack our outposts near the 
 George Tavern, but after some sharp firing we drove 
 them back to their own lines. Skirmishing continued 
 at intervals, but the enemy sallied not in strength, lying 
 in Boston, where we heard that they made light of their 
 defeats and idled away the time in masks and balls, 
 turning Faneuil Hall into a theater. We, on our side, 
 gained in numbers but not in discipline, and waited 
 now for the commander-in-chief, who was upon the way 
 to the camp. On his journey from Philadelphia, he 
 was everywhere received with state and ceremony, even 
 at New York, although they welcomed also the royal 
 governor, so strange was the condition of public affairs. 
 At Springfield Mr. Washington was met by the Com 
 mittee of the Provincial Congress, and from there he 
 came on to Cambridge, where already a great concourse 
 of people had gathered to witness so unusual a spectacle 
 as the parade of our forces to receive him. 
 
 It was the third of July when his Excellency took 
 formal command. I remember looking with anxious
 
 134 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 eyes at our lines and feeling sharply disappointed at 
 their poor appearance. The men themselves were 
 hardy, muscular fellows, and for the most part bore 
 themselves right gallantly, but the lack of military organ 
 ization and discipline was visible enough. There was 
 little hope that the array would make a favorable impres 
 sion upon the new chief, and we, who felt the responsi 
 bility, were nervous and ill at ease. I know that I 
 noticed, with some envy, the good order and soldierly 
 appearance of the Rhode Island troops under Briga 
 dier-General Nathaniel Greene ; he was an excellent 
 commander, and it was his division that won the com 
 mendation of his Excellency. We were surrounded by 
 crowds of country folk, chiefly women and children 
 related to the militia-men, and the variegated colors of 
 their frocks added a gay touch to the scene. 
 
 At last came a fine cavalcade of officers and citizens 
 of high repute, escorting the commander-in-chief. They 
 rode slowly along before our lines, receiving an ovation, for 
 we were all eager to see and welcome a commander who 
 was held in so great esteem. It was a dignified com 
 pany, but it was not difficult to discover the imposing 
 figure in the midst. Mr. Washington was, as I have 
 said, a tall man and massively made, his countenance 
 having a serene dignity ; his blue eyes lacked fire except 
 on the rare occasions when his temper was roused, which 
 last was, to say the truth, a whirlwind, as many of us 
 learned to our cost. That day he was dressed with his 
 usual care and taste ; his hair neatly powdered and tied 
 back with black ribbons, his coat blue, with buff facings, 
 and rich epaulettes upon his shoulders. His breeches 
 and waistcoat were also buff, and on his hat, which was 
 looped up in front, was a black cockade, which became 
 the fashion with the officers. An outburst of cheers
 
 THE CONTINENTAL CAMP. 135 
 
 greeted him as he rode forward alone and wheeling his 
 horse beneath a great elm, which stood before our 
 ranks, held his naked sword aloft and formally assumed 
 command. His fine appearance appealed to every 
 soldier's heart, and wild was the enthusiasm ; here was a 
 commander whom we could receive with confidence and 
 pride. With him that day was also General Charles 
 Lee, the same whom I had seen at the coffee-house in 
 Philadelphia, and who was reputed so great a soldier. 
 He lacked the dignity and fine appearance of Washing 
 ton, however, and suffered by the contrast. 
 
 After the ceremony was over, his Excellency pro 
 ceeded at once to visit all the posts, and I was of the 
 party detailed to act as his escort. With scrupulous 
 care he made his rounds, examining our lines and those 
 of the enemy, and doubtless his heart sank at the con 
 trast between these new soldiers and that disciplined 
 army. He drew rein on Mount Pisgah, and gazed long 
 on the beautiful scene before him, beautiful despite the 
 black ruins of Charlestown. Here the eye looked out 
 upon Massachusetts Bay, the town of Boston, and the 
 surrounding country. But half a mile distant were the 
 pickets of the foe, while Bunker Hill was white with 
 their tents, and their scarlet uniforms showed thick as 
 drops of blood. Above our old redoubt floated the 
 British standard, and their new intrenchments bristled 
 with cannon, while on the other side, toward Roxbury, 
 lay another strong force of regulars, and their men-of- 
 war were stationed in the rivers. About our camp, too, 
 were intrenchments ; orchards and fields were opened 
 together, while horses and cattle grazed in the mowing 
 lands and in the cornfields. Doubtless the task of 
 moulding our raw forces into an army seemed stupen 
 dous, and I think that Washington bore a heavy heart that
 
 136 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 day, but with zeal and unfaltering courage he took up 
 the burden. 
 
 My father had come with him from Philadelphia, 
 where he had been to the Congress, and we had a few 
 days together even at that busy time, a rare happiness 
 to me, since we were tenderly attached to each other. 
 He brought me tidings, too, of the proceedings at Phila 
 delphia, and of the jealousy aroused in some quarters at 
 the choice of a Virginian to command the forces. He 
 told me,, also, of the uneasiness felt at Colonel Guy 
 Johnston's intrigues with the Six Nations, whom he was 
 urging to take up the hatchet for the king. The patriots 
 intended to make an attempt on Canada, and trouble 
 with the Indians would enhance the difficulties of this 
 enterprise. In the month of May one Ethan Allen, at 
 the head of a small body of troops from Massachusetts, 
 Connecticut, and the New Hampshire Grants, had sur 
 prised and seized the king's forts of Ticonderoga and 
 Crown Point, securing many cannon. After this he 
 and General Arnold urged the importance of an expedi 
 tion into Canada ; they claimed now that the Canadians, 
 being more French than English, were disaffected to the 
 government, and that they and the Indians would wel 
 come a patriot force. Thus the Revolution grew apace 
 and gained in strength, and the cares of the commander- 
 in-chief increased with each succeeding hour. 
 
 My father tarried not long with me ; duty called him 
 to Watertown, where the Congress of Massachusetts Bay 
 was sitting ; but during his brief stay he was much with 
 General Washington, who respected his high worth. 
 Being my father's son, I was commended to favor, and 
 received ever kind and courteous treatment from his 
 Excellency, being often of his personal escort when he 
 went his tedious rounds. His zeal was untiring, and he
 
 THE CONTINENTAL CAMP. 137 
 
 and General Lee labored night and day to bring these 
 raw recruits to order and create an army. Sharp dis 
 cipline was inaugurated, and an effort made to teach 
 these rustics the distinction between a private and an 
 officer, which they were very slow to learn, being 
 born independent and many having the disposition of 
 Ephraim, which defied all rules and regulations. The 
 camp had been lax and full of irregularities, but now all 
 offenders were tied up and given thirty lashes or more, 
 and the nature of the place was greatly changed. There 
 was much discontent at the new order of things, since 
 his Excellency was a stern judge, sparing no one. It 
 was a common sight to see a man in the stocks, and 
 there were many public whippings. Some called him 
 too severe to small offenders, but doubtless he felt that 
 discipline must be maintained. At first, too, he made 
 some errors because he did not understand the New 
 England character and he was, by nature, domineering 
 in temper, though a most courteous gentleman. 
 
 The work of intrenchment went on apace. Washing 
 ton had seen at a glance the weakness of our extended 
 lines, and labored to strengthen them at every point. 
 His earnestness inspired the men to such exertions that 
 our works soon reached the Mystic ; gardens and 
 orchards were gone, and the land blossomed with guns. 
 Our camp was still a strange place, each man building 
 his tent or hut to his own liking ; and odd and various 
 were the shapes and patterns of these little dwellings, 
 sprung like toadstools over the peaceful meadows. 
 There were tents of sail-cloth, huts of board, and 
 some of stones and turf, and many were curiously 
 wrought with wreaths and withes, their owners being 
 skilled in woodcraft, with a natural love for the rustic 
 scenes of their home. General Nathaniel Greene greatly
 
 138 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 pleased his Excellency by the discipline of his troops and 
 the neatness and order of their encampment, being 
 modelled after the British ; but for the greater part we 
 were, I think, a sad disappointment to our leader, who 
 looked, no doubt, for a larger and finer force. We 
 mustered then only about fourteen thousand strong, and 
 lay extended from Roxbury to the Mystic. There was 
 a great stir made, however, when reinforcements came 
 from Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia. Some of 
 these were bush- fighters, and soon won our admiration 
 as marksmen, being wondrous skilful with their 
 weapons. 
 
 We were in sharp peril, too, because of our lack of 
 ammunition ; at one time we were almost without pow 
 der, and would have been at the mercy of the enemy, if 
 attacked. There was also scarcity of provisions and ill 
 ness in the camp ; we had indeed to contend with all the 
 evils of a large and poorly organized force of recruits 
 who as yet knew not even the regulations that would 
 preserve their own health in their exposed and unusual 
 quarters. 
 
 Prisoners taken from our ranks and confined in Boston 
 were suffering great indignities, being thrown into com 
 mon jail as felons, despite the spirited remonstrance of 
 General Washington. Mr. Gage treated our commander 
 as a rebel, also, which gave rise to a sharp correspond 
 ence ; but all this but pointed out our fate if we should 
 fall into the hands of the royalists, and the breach 
 widened every day between us. Yet the camps of 
 Bunker and Prospect Hills lay in sight of each other, 
 and much stealthy intercourse went on between the 
 lines where were old acquaintances, and thus tidings 
 crept through the encampments. Ephraim. having 
 more than one friend in Boston, brought me much
 
 THE CONTINENTAL CAMP. 139 
 
 information ; it was from him that I heard of the gay 
 scenes within the town, where balls and plays continued. 
 It was from this source, too, that I was later to learn 
 something of the Talbots ; it was Ephraim who dili 
 gently inquired and ascertained the safety of Richard, 
 who came out of the battle of Bunker Hill unscathed. 
 
 The summer wore on, and the sultry August sun shone 
 hot upon us, yet no decisive blow was struck and a feint, 
 made by the patriots to draw the British from Boston, 
 failed. In the night the Yankees seized and fortified a 
 height in musket-shot of the enemy's lines on Boston 
 Neck ; but though they fired upon the works, they did 
 not venture from their fastness, and the two armies lay 
 watching each other, much as cats watch before a rat- 
 hole.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 EPHRAIM'S PRISONER. 
 
 IN August the camp at Cambridge was visited by an 
 embassy from the Indian tribes of Canada. At that 
 time the expedition against the northern provinces 
 was under consideration, General Schuyler and Gen 
 eral Montgomery being its prospective leaders ; therefore 
 our savage visitors were received with great courtesy and 
 respect. The sachems were from the Caughnawaga and 
 Saint Francis tribes, the first being from the banks of the 
 Saint Lawrence, near Montreal, the last from above 
 Quebec. General Washington was well acquainted with 
 the customs and characters of the redmen, having dealt 
 with them in the wilderness and during the French wars, 
 and he invited them to dine at headquarters with his 
 staff. He had brought his black slaves from Virginia, 
 and lived in a dignified and handsome style in the 
 large house assigned for his use. He constantly bade 
 guests to dinner, and members of the provincial Con 
 gress and persons of consequence were almost daily at 
 his board. His friendship for my father gave me free 
 access to his presence, and I was frequently honored with 
 invitations, and dined there on the day that he entertained 
 the sachems. The scene was worthy of an artist's pen 
 cil : the long room with its neatly sanded floor, the 
 open windows affording glimpses of sun-lighted turf and 
 the spreading branches of the elm and poplar ; close to 
 the window-sills bloomed the great double hollyhocks, the
 
 EPHR AIM'S PRISONER. 141 
 
 heavy-headed stalks nodding in at us. The long table 
 was spread with homely viands, and Hollands and Ma 
 deira and rum were on the sideboard ; his Excellency 
 was a liberal provider, though his own diet was simple 
 and plain enough. I remember that after Trenton the 
 Hessian officers, his prisoners, who dined with him, 
 commented on his abstemious meal of fruit at a board 
 well provided for his guests ; the full-fed Germans 
 could not understand his habits. He sat at the head of 
 his table, ever dignified and courteous, but never talka 
 tive ; he was a deliberate man, both in thought and 
 speech. On this occasion he was scrupulously attired, 
 in full uniform, his blue coat faced with buff, like his 
 waistcoat, and at his neck were ruffles of fine lace. The 
 officers present wore also buff and blue, while the judges 
 and the lawyers were more soberly clad, and had on 
 great white wigs, tied back for the most part in black 
 queue-bags, the same wigs that were in later years much 
 ridiculed by Baroness de Riedesel, the wife of the Hes 
 sian general. In the midst of this company sat the 
 sachems, their faces painted in long streaks of rainbow 
 colors, and their coarse black hair dressed with eagle 
 feathers ; about their necks were chains of wampum, 
 and their blankets were of the gayest dyes. They be 
 haved with great decorum, being men of rank in their 
 tribes, and having a native majesty of mien which sat 
 well upon them. They were simple, too, like children 
 in their curiosity and their respect for men of noted 
 courage. It has always seemed to me that the Indian, 
 a free man as God made him brave, upright, and 
 sincere, is worthy of all esteem. They have been ever, 
 unhappily, too ready pupils of the white man, and have 
 learned but evil lessons from him. Being cheated they 
 have learned to cheat, and have developed other evil
 
 142 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER, 
 
 traits too numerous to name. I know that on that day 
 they won many good opinions, though they were an em 
 barrassment to his Excellency. They were ready to take 
 up the hatchet in our cause, and, as the schemes against 
 Canada were not yet ripe, they were too previous, and it 
 was necessary to deal with them with caution. 
 
 After the dinner was over, the matter was much dis 
 cussed amongst us ; we knew that the sachems would 
 presently hold a council fire, and it seemed impossible 
 to avoid definite measures. There had been some stir 
 in camp all day, though the British were quiet enough 
 in Boston ; but our men were ever expectant of a sur 
 prise, especially at the two points, Roxbury and the 
 outposts by the Mystic. The troops of Massachusetts 
 Bay were still stationed at Cambridge, and here I had 
 my quarters. At first I had taken lodgings, but now 
 camped beside the lines. My tent was of sailcloth, 
 curiously ornamented with rustic trimmings by Ephraim, 
 who was a woodsman and delighted in all the arts of his 
 craft. I remember that it was pitched in the confines 
 of an apple-orchard, below the Common, near the road 
 that led past Inman's woods to Charlestown Neck. I 
 was a little apart from the lines, and so had some mo 
 ments of quiet. Behind my tent lay the orchard, the 
 trees now laden with green fruit ; before it the old 
 fence was broken down, and a sloping meadow stretched 
 out in undulating lines, the long grass sprinkled with the 
 golden buttercups, the pink clover, and the silky white 
 heads of the seeded dandelions, and there the little 
 yellow butterflies held carnival. Beyond these, I could 
 see the waters of the Charles. 
 
 It was after nightfall, when I had returned from my 
 rounds, that I sat reading by the light in my tent. The 
 weather was sultry ; not a leaf stirred, and I could hear
 
 EPHR AIM'S PRISONER. 143 
 
 the crickets' shrill outcry in the fields, and now and 
 again the call of our sentries. My thoughts wandered 
 from my book ; before my mind arose the face of Joyce. 
 I knew that Boston was now sorely pressed, and that pro 
 visions were running short, and I dreaded the thought 
 that distress might touch her, or the shadow of it. How 
 could she, so delicately reared, endure the hardships and 
 privations of a beleaguered town beset by war without 
 and pestilence within, since smallpox had already made 
 its appearance in Boston ? I sat there meditating upon 
 it. I must contrive some means to send her help in the 
 hour of need. Messages got through the lines in spite 
 of all vigilance, and surely I could find some way to 
 reach her. Her scornful treatment of the rebel had 
 not destroyed the rebel's love for her; her blue eyes 
 looked at me still as I had seen them, more than 'once, 
 beautiful in their tenderness, and clear as the soft blue 
 skies above me, where shone now the evening star. I 
 went to the door of my tent and looked out over the 
 wide meadow, sweet with clover blossoming, to the 
 river shining in the dusk like a broad ribbon of silver. 
 
 While I stood there, thinking of the sword that was 
 drawn between kindred and friends and of the hard fate 
 that made my duty and my love strangers to each other, 
 I heard the sound of feet approaching through the or 
 chard, the snapping of the twigs they trod upon, but no 
 word spoken. Listening and expectant, I waited and 
 saw two dark figures coming through the dusk ; one I 
 could not fail to recognize because of its length and 
 swinging gait, the other came with more reluctance. It 
 was Ephraim's voice that accosted me before they 
 reached the tent. 
 
 "Are you there, Mr. Allen," he asked in his usual 
 composed manner, "and are you alone?"
 
 144 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 I responded in the affirmative, and the two came up 
 together ; then it was that I saw that Ephraim had his 
 companion by the arm with one hand, and in the other 
 held gingerly a naked sword. No suspicion of the truth 
 came to me ; knowing the man as I did, I thought that 
 he had caught some delinquent and was bringing him to 
 judgment. 
 
 " Whom have you there ? " I asked, trying to see their 
 faces in the darkness. 
 
 "A prisoner of the United Provinces," Ephraim re 
 plied solemnly, " a prisoner of war." 
 
 "Do you mean a soldier of the Ministerial army?" I 
 inquired sharply, with surprise. 
 
 " No, sir, a soldier of his Majesty, the King of Great 
 Britain and of the Colonies of North America," replied 
 a haughty voice that made me start. 
 
 It was Dick Talbot's. 
 
 " 'Sh ! " ejaculated Ephraim, " softly, young man, other 
 ears may hear you, and they do not love a lobster back 
 in these parts." 
 
 " You are a knave and a fool to boot ! " replied Dick, 
 with his usual temper. 
 
 " Nay," said Ephraim, mildly, " not too great a fool to 
 catch you." 
 
 Here I interrupted the colloquy by bidding Dick enter 
 my tent while Ephraim stood guard at the door. Then, 
 turning, I looked at my prisoner in the light of the 
 lamp, still burning on the table. To my surprise, he 
 wore a dark coat and showed no evidence of his pro 
 fession save his sword belt and empty scabbard, for it 
 was his sword that I had seen in Ephraim's hand. For 
 the moment I knew not what to believe. The first 
 thought that flashed upon me, that he had come a spy 
 upon our lines, I put away with contemptuous unbelief;
 
 EPHR AIM'S PRISONER. 145 
 
 it was not like him. Meanwhile he confronted me in 
 sullen silence ; his hat, a plain black beaver, looped up 
 on three sides, set low over his eyes, and his young face 
 was flushed with indignation and mortified pride. 
 
 " If you came here voluntarily, Dick," I said, " I should 
 be happy to bid you welcome, but as it is, I do indeed 
 regret to see you." 
 
 " Not more than I regret to be here," he retorted 
 shortly ; " but I am at your mercy now what will you 
 do with me? " 
 
 He voiced the question that was uppermost in my 
 own mind and for which I found no answer. 
 
 " What unhappy errand brought you within our lines? " 
 I asked gravely. 
 
 He gave me a quick defiant look, and folding his arms 
 upon his breast stood there with close-locked lips. 
 
 " I had no thought of asking an unworthy question," 
 I said quietly ; " but you are a soldier, and know the laws 
 of the camp." 
 
 " Ay," he responded coldly, " I ask no quarter ; you 
 can deliver me at once, a prisoner of war." 
 
 "Were you taken in a skirmish?" I inquired calmly. 
 
 " No," he retorted, frowning ; " that long-legged devil 
 yonder leaped upon me on the river bank more like a 
 cat than a human, shrieking something about ' Medfield ' 
 in my ears, and because I blundered with your con 
 founded password, he bore me down and stripped me 
 of my arms." 
 
 Now " Dedham " was the parole that day and 
 " Medfield" the countersign, so that Dick had stumbled 
 on our pickets, and it was fortunate that it was Ephraim 
 and not a stranger, yet the case was bad enough. 
 
 "Where is your uniform?" I asked quietly, with a 
 significant glance at his dark clothes. 
 
 10
 
 146 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 "Why trifle with me, Allen?" he replied peevishly. 
 " I am in your power, but I will not answer a Puritan 
 catechism. Give me up at once, and let there be an 
 end between us." 
 
 " Alas, Dick," I said sadly, " take you no thought of 
 the consequences? You would be hung as a spy ! " 
 
 He stood a moment staring at me with dilated eyes, 
 his face growing gray as ashes ; then he staggered to a 
 seat upon my army chest, and covered his face with his 
 hands, uttering no word. Then I knew that he was 
 innocent, and marvelled greatly that he had been so 
 blind. For a while we were both silent, he sitting with 
 his head upon his hands and I standing by the table 
 with a heavy heart, as Heayen knows. But a moment 
 since, I had been dreaming of Joyce, longing for some 
 tidings from her, and now here was her brother, bearing 
 so strong a likeness to her, and he was my prisoner. I 
 must do my duty, and cruel was the prospect of it. I 
 stood half stupefied with trouble, my eyes mechanically 
 studying every detail of his graceful figure, from his 
 bright hair, from which he had brushed the white 
 powder, to his dark coat and small clothes and high 
 riding-boots. He had slender hands, almost like a 
 woman's, and I noted with a pang a likeness, even in 
 those, to her hands, which I loved so well. It seemed an 
 hour before he raised his head and I saw the drawn 
 look on his face. 
 
 "I am no spy," he declared in a low voice, "but 
 who will believe me?" 
 
 " Few but myself, I fear me, Dick," I answered kindly, 
 with an aching heart. 
 
 " At least," he said, " they can treat me like a gentle 
 man. I care not if they shoot me as a prisoner of war, 
 but a spy ! "
 
 EPHR AIM'S PRISONER. 147 
 
 " I cannot see how they can treat you as aught but 
 a spy," I replied in a low voice. " Mr. Gage would so 
 treat me ay, worse, he would make me a common 
 felon, if I fell thus into his hands." 
 
 "You are a rebel," rejoined Dick, flatly, with the full 
 strength of his convictions. 
 
 I felt my face burn, and bit my lip to check the angry 
 retort upon it, for was he not at my mercy ? 
 
 " We will not take up the question now," I said 
 gravely. " He who loses is a rebel, he who wins a 
 patriot, it is the interpretation of fortune only ; I am 
 content to abide the issue. It is my unhappiness to be 
 your captor now." 
 
 " Nay," replied Dick, grimly, " take not the glory from 
 that drawling Yankee yonder. He took me fairly, 
 though by surprise." 
 
 " I wish that he had been less ready to do his duty 
 for that once," I retorted with a sigh. "Alas, Dick, 
 what can we do?" 
 
 He looked at me with scorn. " You are a rebel," he 
 said bitterly, " and know the authorities in this hornet's 
 nest ; you can therefore very easily be rid of me at the 
 cost of a little rope, since you are pleased to call me a 
 spy." 
 
 1 groaned aloud, in the bitterness of my soul. 
 
 " Alas ! " I said, " that biting, gibing Talbot tongue ! 
 You cannot forgive me, even at this moment. Yet you 
 are an American by birth, as I am, Dick, and have no 
 right to scorn your country's cause." 
 
 He vouchsafed no reply, but sat there with folded 
 arms and disdainful eyes, although his face was white. 
 And I, in misery and bewilderment, turned from him 
 and went out and spoke with Ephraim. He told briefly 
 of the capture, which was accidental ; he had been on
 
 148 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 picket duty, but was relieved and on his way to the river 
 for a drink, when coming suddenly from behind a 
 hedgerow he stumbled upon a stranger. His suspicion 
 awakened, he had seized him with his usual agility and 
 disarmed him in the struggle, snatching Dick's pistol 
 before he could fire it, a fortunate occurrence, since 
 the shot would have brought the sentry. Ephraim had 
 brought his prisoner to me in ignorance of his identity, 
 only recognizing him as the young officer of the Bunker 
 Hill battle, when he saw his face at the tent door. No 
 one else knew of the capture, and I drew a breath of re 
 lief, since I would now have leisure for a few moments' 
 thought. I bade Ephraim guard the prisoner, and left 
 them, walking on across the meadow toward the river 
 with an aching heart. My duty walked before me plain 
 and rigid, and I battled with the Tempter in great agony 
 of soul.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 A PURITAN CONSCIENCE. 
 
 I WALKED down through the meadows to the river 
 bank, answering the challenge of a sentry on my way. 
 The friendly shadows of the night lay all about me, and 
 looking back, I saw the flickering lights of the camp, 
 /ike eyes in the darkness, watching lest I should fall 
 away. Down by the water the frogs and crickets made 
 a ceaseless undertone of sound, as they will late in the 
 summer. All these trifling things I noted, with a pain 
 ful consciousness of my surroundings, but my spirit 
 was in travail, and brought forth only that grim child, 
 Despair. To my mind, there could be but one course, 
 and that was hideous. I felt as if Dick's blood was on 
 my hands already, that I bore upon my forehead the 
 brand of Cain. Yet my conscience would not permit 
 the betrayal of my trust, though, as Heaven knows, in 
 the darkness I prayed for deliverance with a breaking 
 heart. " No one knows that he is in thy hands," pleaded 
 the Tempter, "no one but the man who loves thee; 
 therefore loose him and let him go." But I set my 
 teeth, and walked to and fro beside the Charles, strug 
 gling against the fearful temptation until the drops of 
 cold sweat stood on my forehead. My honor and my 
 father's were at stake, and that higher duty which I 
 owed my country ; if I thus betrayed them all, I was 
 worthy myself to die a traitor's death. Should the love 
 of woman be my ruin ? My duty, in itself, was simple ;
 
 I5O A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 my part but small in the tragedy that must ensue. I had 
 only to deliver him, a prisoner, to my superior officer, and 
 all was done. No more ; but I would be his murderer, 
 in my own eyes and in hers, and in the darkness I saw 
 her face, her dear face, as it had looked that last day at 
 Marblehead, pale as a white rose, and with tears shining 
 in her eyes. And if I did this thing my duty could 
 I stand before her, red-handed with her brother's blood ? 
 Yet I had drawn the sword for Massachusetts Bay, I 
 bore the commission of the United Provinces of North 
 America, I was a soldier sworn to serve with honor and 
 with honesty, and I might not break my oath. I could 
 not doubt that Richard Talbot meditated some injury to 
 our cause, that he was trying to pass our lines to stir up 
 mischief among the Tories yet remaining out of Boston ; 
 it might even be that he bore important despatches, or 
 was bent upon an intrigue with Colonel Guy Johnson 
 and the Six Nations. That so determined a royalist in 
 tended anything less than deadly evil to the Continental 
 army was but a childish dream. Therefore to conceal 
 him or to let him escape was the more deadly sin. It 
 would not only blast my own honor, but it would cast a 
 black blot upon my father, that stainless patriot, and 
 upon my blood, which was honest, and had flowed in the 
 veins of him who fought on Marston Moor. In that 
 hour the iron in my soul stood me in good stead, and I 
 resisted the world, the flesh, and the devil. " Resist the 
 Devil and he will flee from you," saith the Scripture ; 
 and thus have I found it ever, when I strove with all the 
 force of my nature to overcome its weakness. There 
 could be no question of my duty, but, for the love of 
 woman, I lingered faint-hearted upon the way. Nor 
 was it alone my love for Joyce ; in that hour I knew 
 that I loved the lad for his own sake, despite his haughty,
 
 A PURITAN CONSCIENCE. 1 5 I 
 
 fiery ways, and I would rather have placed the halter 
 about my own neck than his. " Oh, evil Destiny that led 
 him to my tent ! " I thought in anguish, " how could any 
 mortal man make this sacrifice?" Then I remembered 
 the patriarch on Mount Moriah, and prayed that I might 
 be delivered from this supreme test of my allegiance. 
 Yet all the while delay brought me no help, no ram 
 was caught here in the thicket for a burnt offering, and 
 my conscience told me sharply that the hour was at 
 hand. 
 
 I cast myself face downward on the long grass, and 
 lay there, praying with my lips, but my heart too full for 
 any thought, while before me arose the visions of the 
 past. I saw Dick as a lad, younger than I by many 
 years, with rosy, dimpled cheeks, and short, bright curls, 
 his blue eyes then so like the eyes of Joyce. I saw him 
 as I had seen him often, barefoot upon the beach, play 
 ing with seashells or digging in the sands ; I saw him 
 again, a larger, stronger boy, riding bareback upon his 
 horse, a daring, graceful rider, with a heart as light as 
 his temper was hot. Then I saw a file of soldiers, a 
 tree with a halter thrown across its limb, the chaplain 
 reading a prayer before it, the prisoner with his arms 
 bound behind him, and I, his accuser, his captor ! And 
 the prisoner had the eyes, the hair, the face of Joyce, 
 and his blood would be upon me. In my agony I 
 shuddered and groaned aloud, but the vision would not 
 leave me ; yet all the while I knew that I was a soldier 
 and must do my duty. I could not betray my cause or 
 stain my honor; I must do this thing. I was not so 
 poor a coward as to shirk at this supreme hour of trial ; 
 there was no possible evasion, no compromise ; on one 
 side were my duty, my honor, my honesty ; on the other, 
 was the betrayal of my trust and my cause. There could
 
 152 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 be no choice ; I might shrink before the ordeal, but I 
 was no less a man, and must abide by my resolution and 
 the course that I had chosen freely, with no illusions to 
 blind my eyes. If it was my lot to suffer, doubtless I 
 should find the strength to bear it. I never thought of 
 an appeal for mercy ; I knew his Excellency was a hard 
 man in matters of discipline and military government. 
 Had I not seen the soldiers in the stocks for petty of 
 fences? Had I not seen many a back bleed under the 
 whip ? I did not deceive myself for a moment ; there 
 would be no hope at headquarters. 
 
 There in the soft, sweet darkness, with the wet grass 
 pressed against my burning face, I struggled with the 
 Tempter and I conquered. I rose at last, determined 
 to do my whole duty and no less, to do it with the help 
 of Heaven, though it broke my heart. I turned my face 
 toward the camp, but moved like a man in a dream ; I 
 felt that it was my own act that must sever me forever 
 from my love, that I went to break her heart as surely 
 as my own, and would henceforth be a monster in her 
 eyes. But an honest man can have no choice ; the path 
 of honor is as straight and narrow as the path of life, 
 and I came of stern blood that would more readily die 
 than betray a trust 
 
 Slow as I walked I came near to my tent, but too 
 soon, and pausing in the meadow, stood and viewed it 
 with an aching heart. A small spot to hold so great a 
 sorrow, so small that the gnarled branches of an old 
 apple-tree half hid the side of it from view, but I could 
 see the light streaming from the door, and making a 
 narrow bar of brightness on the turf before it. Ephraim 
 had left his post, and was doubtless with the prisoner, for 
 he loved to talk and question, and would scarcely spare 
 even this haughty young royalist. I could not bear to
 
 A PURITAN CONSCIENCE. 153 
 
 see that scene, and it cost me a mighty effort to cross 
 the little space and stand at the door ; but one glance 
 within showed me that the place was deserted, and 
 Dick's sword lay bare upon the table, the lamplight 
 flashing on the polished blade. My first sensation was 
 one of relief, and then a quick anxiety followed upon its 
 heels. Doubtless the tent had been visited by one of 
 the other officers, and Dick had gone with him to head 
 quarters. No longer dazed with trouble but aroused to 
 action, I went on at once toward the Common, inquir 
 ing of the first sentry that I met if Ephraim had passed 
 that way. Receiving a negative reply, I pushed my in 
 quiries at Cambridge, but everywhere met only a baffling 
 want of information. So perplexed was I by this, that it 
 was above an hour before I was satisfied that Dick had 
 not been taken to headquarters and that he and Ephraim 
 had vanished. 
 
 I went back at last, alone, to my quarters, and found 
 them yet vacant and undisturbed, although the sentry 
 passed at intervals upon his round. My first care was to 
 conceal Dick's sword, and then, extinguishing the light, 
 I went forth again and sought Minot and his prisoner 
 through the lines. Here too was I baffled ; neither of 
 them had been seen, and Ephraim 's well-known figure 
 could not escape notice in any part of the camp. I 
 went the whole length of the lines, but with no better 
 result, and was forced at last to return to my starting- 
 point and abide the issue. I threw myself upon the 
 ground beneath the apple-tree that grew by the tent 
 door, and lay there in the darkness looking upward at 
 the countless stars. I could not read the riddle of 
 Ephraim's conduct, but knew well that he would never 
 let his prisoner evade him ; and there had been no scuffle 
 in my tent, not even the book that I had laid face down-
 
 154 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 ward on the table was disturbed. Suspense is bitter, 
 far more bitter than the deadly assurance of our own 
 misery, and I endured it through the night, for Ephraim 
 came not, and my sleepless eyes saw darkness fold its 
 wings before the soft, slow dawning of another day.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 I SURRENDER MY SWORD. 
 
 WHEN prayers were read that morning, I sought for 
 Ephraim ; thinking surely that he would be at his accus 
 tomed post, but once more was disappointed. His 
 familiar face was absent from the ranks, and I listened 
 to our worthy chaplain with but an inattentive mind, 
 my thoughts being with those two, so strangely vanished. 
 It was a problem difficult to solve, and I was slow to 
 grasp its full significance. 
 
 It being my duty to report for orders at headquarters, 
 it was full noontide before I was free to pursue my in 
 quiry, which again was profitless ; therefore, at the first 
 opportunity, I set out toward our pickets on the Mystic 
 in quest of information. 
 
 My road lay through Inman's woods to Mount Pisgah, 
 and I went on foot. My errand, being an anxious one, 
 was over-irksome, and I walked but slowly, twice pass 
 ing orderlies riding post-haste to Cambridge from 
 General Greene, who commanded at the Hill ; but no 
 one travelled in my direction, and I came alone to the 
 woodland, and had proceeded but a little way among 
 the trees, before I saw a figure coming toward me that 
 could not be mistaken. It was Ephraim, his boots 
 fallen a little lower on their journey to his ankles, his 
 drab breeches and green coat in their familiar shape, 
 and his hat as ever set awry. He was walking calmly, 
 one hand thrust, as usual, in his pocket, the other bal-
 
 156 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 ancing his musket on his shoulder, and his expression 
 composed enough to dash my most profound suspicions. 
 At the sight of me, he broke out in song, waking the 
 echoes with his lusty notes, 
 
 " ' Boston, be not dismayed, 
 Tho' tyrants now oppress ; 
 Tho' fleets and troops invade, 
 You soon will have redress: 
 The resolutions of the brave 
 Will injured Massachusetts save.' " * 
 
 Thus far he sang, but no more, for I came up with 
 him, and stayed his music with an authoritative gesture, 
 being justly angered at his want of deference to my rank as 
 his superior, and his indifference to my natural anxiety. 
 
 " Minot," I said sharply, " where is my prisoner?" 
 
 Ephraim stood composed, and rubbed his chin thought 
 fully as he looked at me. 
 
 " I thought he was my prisoner," he remarked slowly ; 
 " leastways, it seemed so." 
 
 " Mine," I replied testily, " since I am your superior 
 officer and you surrendered him to me." 
 
 " Oh, that 's the way of it, is it ? " he said with imper 
 turbable serenity. " I have n't got into your new-fangled 
 notions here yet. But it 's no use quarrelling about it, 
 Mr. Allen, for he is n't anybody's prisoner now, that I 
 know of." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " I cried ; " what have you done 
 with the lad?" 
 
 A sudden sharp fear of a spy's fate beset me, and how 
 might I know what this strange creature had done ? 
 
 Ephraim lowered his gun from his shoulder, and set 
 ting it upon the ground, leaned upon it, unruffled by my 
 impatience. 
 
 1 " fissex Gazette."
 
 / SURRENDER MY SWORD. 157 
 
 " Well," he said calmly, " it appeared to me that he 
 was too young to be out of Boston. I thought it over, 
 and I concluded that likely as not he meant some mis 
 chief, and he is a handsome lad and a brave one ; I saw 
 him fight at Breed's Hill. Another thing, you know that 
 our colonel up there," jerking his thumb toward Cam 
 bridge, " is a severe man, and a rope about a fellow's 
 neck is n't comfortable ' Here he paused, and taking 
 off his hat, wiped his forehead leisurely, avoiding my 
 glance. 
 
 " In Heaven's name," I exclaimed passionately, " what 
 have you done?" 
 
 " 1 '11 tell you presently, Mr. Allen," he replied with 
 dignity. " I thought of all this, and knew you liked the 
 boy. Well, sir, to make a long story short, I took him 
 through our pickets as slick as an eel, and passed him 
 over to the lobster backs at the Neck." 
 
 For a moment I looked at him in silence, utterly con 
 founded, and he returned my gaze undisturbed save for 
 a twinkle in his small blue eyes, which flickered for an 
 instant and then left them blank. 
 
 " Do you know that such an act is a breach of dis 
 cipline, of honor, of loyalty? " I said hoarsely, my brain 
 whirling with contending emotions ; " that it is my duty 
 to arrest you ? " 
 
 " Is that so? " returned the culprit, undismayed ; " it 's 
 strange now, the fuss that 's made over a small thing 
 just an act of charity. I don't know as I think it's 
 Christian to be so vindictive against our enemies. 
 Scripture says we ought to love them ; that 's what the 
 parson 's busy teaching us every day, but we keep on 
 pumping lead into the midst of them. Practising and 
 preaching never did agree." 
 
 I looked at him with a feeling of despair ; here was an
 
 158 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 incorrigible American citizen, and he regarded not my 
 authority, or the powers that were installed at Cambridge. 
 Perplexed and troubled as I was, I already half divined 
 the motive of his deed, and it touched my heart with a 
 glow of tender gratitude. 
 
 " Ephraim," I said sternly, " you did this for my sake, 
 because you knew that I was interested in the prisoner." 
 
 "Maybe I did," he replied calmly, "and maybe I 
 did n't. I 'm not saying anything about it. The lad is 
 safe in Boston, and he promised me to come no more 
 into our camp except in the open, like a soldier. He 's 
 a fine lad, Mr. Allen, but with the devil of a temper and 
 the tongue of a shrew more than a man. I told him 
 that if he 'd lived in old days, and been a woman, they 'd 
 have ducked him for a town scold, and so they would." 
 
 "You have committed a serious fault," I said, unheed 
 ing, " and I know not how to act, and feel, too, that the 
 blame is wholly mine. You must come with me to my 
 quarters, and remain there while I see the proper authori 
 ties and get you out of this difficulty, as best I can." 
 
 " Don't be uneasy about me," he replied, shouldering 
 his musket again and walking at my side with placid 
 indifference. " I never found it wise to be looking 
 about too sharp for trouble." 
 
 " I fear that you will find it without the seeking," I 
 rejoined dryly, and walked on rapidly, with a full 
 heart. 
 
 I foresaw the grave and far-reaching consequences, 
 yet all the while a deep joy stirred within me. Dick 
 was free, and though I must suffer, it would be rather 
 for his sake and hers than through any crime against 
 them. And I would suffer gladly, Heaven knows, for 
 her rather than have tears dim her blue-gray eyes. We 
 walked back, without more talk, to Cambridge. Ephraim,
 
 I SURRENDER MY SWORD. I 59 
 
 calm and good-humored, was whistling the tune of the 
 White Cockade, to which the farmers marched at Con 
 cord. Meanwhile I steeled my heart to meet the trial 
 yet to come. The Tempter cried aloud within me to 
 hide this deed ; to let the darkness and good fortune 
 that had favored it remain a shield. But at least I 
 was an honest man, although it seemed a weak one and 
 a blunderer, yet no greater treachery should stain my 
 conscience or my name. I left Minot at the lines, near 
 the Common, and went on at a rapid pace to head 
 quarters. 
 
 I dared not pause lest some new weakness should 
 betray me and I should falter by the way. In moments 
 of suspense or pain, the smallest trifle fastens on the 
 memory, and the scene of our trial is stamped upon the 
 heart and brain ; thus I remember every detail of that 
 hour as plainly as though it had been yesterday. How 
 hot it was, when I crossed the Common ; the trees gave 
 no shade in this exposed spot, and I remember the red 
 face of the orderly who stood before the general's door 
 and saluted as I approached it ; there was but a brief 
 delay before I was admitted, and I found his Excellency 
 with General Putnam and another officer. The three sat 
 at a table in the room used for an office, and they were 
 in uniform, General Washington himself having just re 
 turned from his rounds; he was leaning back in a 
 large armchair, and some papers lay upon his knee. The 
 trio turned inquiring glances on me as I entered, and no 
 doubt the gravity of my countenance aroused their curi 
 osity. I saluted them with composure, and tried to 
 speak simply in answer to Washington's question. 
 
 "You have tidings for us, Mr. Allen?" he said 
 courteously. 
 
 " Only such as concern my own negligence, your
 
 l6O A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 Excellency," I replied quietly. "Yesterday evening a 
 soldier brought a British prisoner, an officer of the 
 Ministerial army, to my quarters ; through my culpable 
 carelessness he escaped and returned to Boston." 
 
 General Putnam uttered an exclamation of anger and 
 amazement, but the strong composure of General Wash 
 ington's face made it inscrutable. 
 
 " I am astonished, sir," he said gravely, his stern blue 
 eyes searching mine, " that any officer of this army, and 
 last of all your father's son, should have committed so 
 grave a fault, if I may call it by so light a name. But 
 your candor in coming at once to me gives hope that 
 it was an error, that you may find some more tangible 
 excuse than now appears. The act itself is too nearly 
 allied to a betrayal of trust for me to believe you capable 
 ofjt." 
 
 "Yet such is the case," I replied simply, though my 
 face burned with shame ; " I can make no reasonable 
 excuse." 
 
 " The man is mad," said Putnam, with impatience ; 
 " he talks of treachery as if it were but a schoolboy's 
 offence." 
 
 His Excellency silenced him with a gesture, and look 
 ing at me earnestly, addressed me in tones of deep 
 displeasure ; his unruffled calm making his anger far 
 more imposing than the quick passion in the faces of 
 his two companions. 
 
 "Young man," he said deliberately, "you do not 
 seem to understand the full extent of your unhappy 
 negligence. A British prisoner taken within our lines, 
 doubtless a spy, and you permitted him to escape? I 
 cannot understand such a breach of duty; you must 
 explain it or suffer the consequences." 
 
 " I cannot plead any extenuation of my unhappy con-
 
 / SURRENDER MY SWORD. i6l 
 
 duct, your Excellency," I replied sadly. " I regret it the 
 more deeply because of the reflection upon my father's 
 spotless name, but he is innocent. I deplore my own 
 negligence, and I am willing to suffer my just punish 
 ment. My sword is at your disposal; " and I unbuckled 
 it and laid it on the table, and stood back with folded 
 arms, my eyes upon the ground, though I saw it not, for 
 a mist obscured my sight. Neither did I hear what 
 passed between the general and his officers, for they 
 spoke apart, and when he addressed me again, I awoke 
 as from an evil dream and heard his voice, strangely 
 stern and cold. 
 
 " I regret it deeply, Mr. Allen," he said slowly, look 
 ing all the while in a searching manner at my face, 
 " but I must place you under arrest, until this matter is 
 investigated." 
 
 I bowed gravely without replying, for my utterance 
 was choked. An agony of shame overwhelmed me, and 
 I felt myself a culprit, disgraced forever in my own eyes 
 and unworthy of my father's name. What followed is con 
 fused. I know only that the officer in attendance, Colo 
 nel Gardner, went with me to a house near the college, 
 where I was placed in charge of yet another officer 
 to await the inquiry that would be made at once, so 
 they told me. I was under arrest, but treated with 
 courtesy, and presently found myself alone in an upper 
 chamber, where I was left to my meditations, which were 
 miserable enough and a sufficient punishment. I had 
 but the one consolation that I had done my duty, as I 
 knew it, and without betraying Ephraim, whose greatest 
 fault was his attachment to my person, which had induced 
 him to save Dick Talbot and to spare me the dreadful 
 necessity of giving up the lad to military justice. Now 
 that all was over, the struggle ended, a dull relief came
 
 1 62 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 to my overtaxed brain and heart, and I, who had not 
 slept all through the summer night, sank down in a 
 chair by the table, and crossing my arms upon it, laid 
 my head down on them, and slept like a child, without 
 a dream, as we sleep sometimes when despair has 
 brought its cold certainty to end our feverish suspense.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 EPHRAIM'S VICTORY. 
 
 WHEN I awoke from my deep sleep, it was late in the 
 afternoon and the sun slanting in the western windows 
 had flooded the room with light and heat. From where 
 I sat, I commanded a view of the Common, and could 
 see the small squads of soldiers gathered here and there, 
 conversing together. In the distance a drum was beat 
 ing. There was no breeze stirring, and the white flag of 
 the Massachusetts Bay hung in heavy folds upon its staff 
 above the tents beyond the Common. I looked at it 
 with sad eyes, the white flag with the green pine-tree 
 and its motto, " Appeal to Heaven." It was sacred to 
 me, yet here was I under arrest, charged with disloyalty 
 nay, perhaps, a blacker crime against the province 
 and the cause. I had need of reflection, for I was likely 
 soon to be in a yet more sorry plight. Doubtless I 
 should be tried by court-martial ; for less offences, they 
 tried our sentries, if they but spoke with the guards of 
 the enemy, they were cited before the military tribunal, 
 and my conduct was far more reprehensible. Awaking 
 from forgetfulness, my troubles rushed upon me with 
 redoubled force, and the change from yesterday to to 
 day seemed too miserable to be reality. Then I had 
 been well considered by my comrades, even regarded as 
 an authority by the men from Essex County, who knew 
 and loved my father; now I was a prisoner in fact, if 
 not in rigid confinement, and I saw no way to escape
 
 1 64 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 honorably the penalty of my own weakness, for it was that 
 which had betrayed me. But the sharpest sting of all 
 was the injury to my father, whom I loved so well. That 
 his son should be tried by court-martial on such a charge 
 would be a blow too hard for him to bear with fortitude, 
 and being so near to him in sympathy and affection, I 
 knew also his* pride in his only son, the bearer of his 
 own untarnished name. That my conduct must seem 
 to him ingratitude, was bitter indeed ; I knew so well 
 his unfaltering, simple nature, his unflinching truthful 
 ness, his loyalty, that it was not difficult to know the 
 light in which he would regard my confession. The 
 blood of the old Puritan that stirred within him supplied 
 that one hard element in his fine character that would 
 make him unrelenting in his judgment of a breach of 
 honor or of duty. 
 
 It was a black hour, and I bore it with what patience 
 I could summon, putting aside my weakness, and order 
 ing my heart to endure its trial. Time dragged with 
 leaden feet, and I sat there watching the shadows 
 lengthen as the sun sank in the western sky. Near my 
 window on a lower roof some pigeons had alighted, and 
 the pretty creatures strutted about there in the sunshine, 
 cooing softly to each other ; white were they, with gray 
 and brown upon their wings, and circles of purple about 
 their throats, which now and then showed warmer tints 
 when a ray of light slanted full upon them. Then be 
 fore me came the thought of Joyce, and I wondered how 
 it fared with her in Boston, if she was gay there, sur 
 rounded by admirers. The officers had doubtless leisure 
 enough to pay their court to her, since we heard stories 
 of the plays going on at Faneuil Hall, though the town 
 was sore pressed and suffering from lack of provisions. 
 How thought she of her rebel lover? With indifference,
 
 EPHR AIM'S VICTORY. 165 
 
 perhaps, and certainly with scorn, so that if the tidings of 
 my present plight should reach her, she would regard it 
 only as a just requital of my disloyalty to the king. She 
 would say that he who served an evil cause must look 
 for an ill reward ; that as I had sown, so would I reap. 
 I could see her as she would look in speaking thus, so 
 well I knew her ways, and the quick flash in those 
 changeful eyes of hers. Yet I was suffering for her sake, 
 since, had I done my duty, Ephraim would never have 
 had the opportunity for my undoing ; but I was thankful 
 still that the lad had escaped a spy's fate. The thought 
 of making Minot a scapegoat for my sins did not enter 
 my mind for a moment ; I knew too well where lay the 
 fault to charge it on another, and far be it from me to 
 betray any man to save myself from the consequence of 
 my own errors and sins. Let each man bear his burden, 
 say I, and bear it with a clean heart, not seeking to lay it 
 on another's shoulders ; which is the way of cowards and 
 knaves, but not of true men. Yet my situation was very 
 grievous. I had a young man's hopes and high ambitions, 
 and I seemed to see their utter ruin and destruction ; I, 
 who had hoped to stand upon the roll of honor, was 
 likely now to be dismissed from the army, or receive a 
 yet heavier sentence, since my loyalty would be but too 
 sharply questioned. I was then too ignorant of military 
 laws to know what fate might await me, and the uncer 
 tainty increased my uneasiness. Lost in sad reflections, 
 I sat motionless and listless while the slow hours passed 
 away and the sun set and twilight came. It was un 
 usually quiet ; only the distant sounds from the camp 
 reached me, or the voices of occasional groups upon 
 the Common. I was glad that there was no sign of 
 activity, since that would have been the drop to make 
 my cup overflow.
 
 1 66 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 At last it grew dim in my room, but I did not stir to 
 light the candles, the darkness suiting best my heavy 
 mood. In spite of my depression, however, every sense 
 was sharpened, and I was quick to hear heavy steps upon 
 the stairs, and presently a bright light showed at the 
 crack below the door where the threshold was sunken. 
 In a moment the door was opened, and an orderly 
 brought in some candles j behind him came no less a 
 person than General Putnam. I rose from my chair 
 with more haste than ease, and overturned it with my 
 usual awkwardness ; but the general took no notice of 
 my confusion, waiting only until we were alone to ad 
 dress me ; then he turned his genial face full toward me 
 and gave me a keen but not unkindly glance. 
 
 " Mr. Allen," he said in his frank way, " why did you 
 not tell all the truth this afternoon? " 
 
 I started, feeling the blood in my cheeks. 
 
 " But, general," I protested, " I did speak the truth 
 and to my own detriment." 
 
 " Ay," he said bluntly, " and but few would have thrust 
 their own heads in the halter, therefore we are the more 
 inclined to treat your case with lenity. But you did 
 not speak the whole truth, sir, and we deserved no less 
 at your hands." 
 
 " I told you all that concerned, my honor," I re 
 plied proudly, "or was likely to be an injury to the 
 cause." 
 
 " I see," he answered dryly ; " a boy's chivalry. You 
 elected to suffer for another, but the sacrifice is happily 
 averted. We know the whole story, Mr. Allen ; that 
 strange person, Ephraim Minot, has told us the entire 
 truth, as I take it, sparing no one, but in a way exon 
 erating you." 
 
 " Then he has not told the truth," I declared warmly,
 
 EPHK AIM'S VICTORY. l6/ 
 
 understanding in a moment the simple rustic's generous 
 action, " for it was for my sake he did it." 
 
 " Here is a curious riddle," exclaimed Putnam, with 
 some of his usual impatience ; " why should the fate of 
 this British officer be of consequence to you? I know 
 your father, and I take you for an honest man, Mr. 
 Allen ; I trust I am not mistaken." 
 
 " It seems but useless for me to protest my honesty 
 in the face of my own conduct," I replied sadly ; " but 
 I intended no injury to the army." 
 
 " I believe that, sir," the old man said heartily. " Now 
 make a clean breast of it, Mr. Allen ; what was the motive 
 of this strange entanglement? " 
 
 "There was no motive, only my weakness, General 
 Putnam," I answered with an effort, yet touched by his 
 frank confidence in me. " The young officer was a friend 
 of my boyhood, younger than I, little more than a lad, 
 and he protested that he was no spy. I believed him, 
 but I knew that no one else would credit his protested 
 innocence, knew also to my shame be it told that 
 his errand must be hostile to our cause since he is of a 
 determined Tory family. Yet withal I could not bear 
 the thought of betraying, of giving him up to military 
 law. While I faltered, intending to do my duty, 
 Ephraim, prompted by love for me and pity for the 
 young fellow, took him away. But for Minot there is 
 the excuse that he does not recognize or understand dis 
 cipline, and acts as his kind and honest heart dictates, 
 meaning no harm. For me there is no such apology." 
 
 The general had listened in silence, his keen eyes 
 upon my face. 
 
 " Why did you not tell this story to General Washing 
 ton ? " he asked sharply ; " a half truth is nearly a whole 
 falsehood, yet I see your conscience is a tender point."
 
 1 68 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " I desired to shield Minot," I said simply, " whose 
 fault, I knew, was really mine." 
 
 For a while he did not reply, seeming to be lost in 
 thought, and I waited with impatience for his next 
 words ; his kindness, which was unexpected, having 
 raised new hopes within me. At last he took up his hat, 
 which he had laid upon the table, and turned to the 
 door, and my heart sank like lead ; but he stopped at 
 the threshold. 
 
 " Mr. Allen," he said briefly, " I am instructed by the 
 commander-in-chief to inform you that you are at lib 
 erty to return to the lines, but will assume no active 
 duties at the front until further orders." 
 
 I burst out with my incoherent thanks, protesting, 
 though, that I was not willing that Ephraim should suffer 
 in my place. 
 
 "The least said is soonest mended, sir," the general 
 replied shortly. " Speak not of the matter, and be thank 
 ful that your father's spotless honor stands your greatest 
 shield. Try to win such laurels that this cloud may be 
 dispersed, since you are happy to escape thus lightly." 
 
 Again I thanked him and stood beside the threshold, 
 embarrassed and uneasy. With his hand upon the 
 door, he paused and glanced at me sharply, the light 
 from the candles shining full upon my face. 
 
 "Is it his cousin or his sister that you love?" he 
 asked abruptly. 
 
 For the instant his full meaning did not flash upon 
 me, and then the blood flew to my temples, and I felt as 
 awkward as a boy. But catching the gleam in the old 
 man's bright eyes, I lifted my head proudly. 
 
 " His sister," I answered boldly. 
 
 He made no reply, but went out, and I heard him 
 laughing softly as he descended the stairs. Yet I for-
 
 EPHR AIM'S VICTORY. 169 
 
 gave him his jest, since I knew his heart to be as kind 
 and generous as it was brave, and knew also, intuitively, 
 that I owed much to his intercession, made doubtless 
 for my father's sake, but none the less my chief cause of 
 deliverance and meriting my deepest gratitude.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 A TURN IN THE TIDE. 
 
 IN the end I heard the story of the episode from 
 Ephraim himself. Suspecting my intention of confess 
 ing my share in the matter and of bearing the blame, he 
 followed me at a distance, and seeing me go to head 
 quarters was convinced of the accuracy of his own con 
 clusions. Acting with his accustomed independence, he 
 went to General Putnam and told him the whole story, 
 garnished, doubtless, with various additions from his ver 
 satile brain, making me appear in a far better light than 
 I deserved. Howbeit he prevailed with the kind- 
 hearted general, who, in turn, interceded with his Excel 
 lency. Weighing the honesty of my intentions, and my 
 father's name in my favor, they passed the matter over 
 as lightly as they could, the fact that nothing was 
 known at camp being another point in my behalf. But 
 my chances of promotion, but lately so fair, were blasted, 
 and I was left to work out my own salvation and 
 redeem my fault by devoted service, a punishment 
 light for the offence, but galling to my stubborn pride. 
 As for Minot, the strange fellow so worked on General 
 Putnam that he, too, escaped with a reprimand and 
 twelve hours' imprisonment ; he was also fined for dis 
 respect to his superior officers, but this I paid from my 
 own pocket, so that his chastisement was but nominal. 
 So close were the relations between the contending
 
 A TURN IN THE TIDE. IJl 
 
 armies, that intercourse, often of an intimate and affec 
 tionate nature, was the bane of our commanders, and 
 they understood the more easily my situation and 
 Ephraim's act of kindness, but I felt that I had lost my 
 place in Mr. Washington's regard. On parade and else 
 where he no longer glanced in my direction, and I was 
 no more invited to his table ; stern and unflinching him 
 self, he had but small mercy for weakness in others, and 
 was willing, doubtless, to let me feel the full weight of his 
 displeasure. I tasted in those days that followed the 
 bitterness of mortification, which belittled too my 
 motives ; my sin had not been great enough for condign 
 punishment, but it had overshadowed my prospects of 
 honor and repute. Nor was there any opportunity to 
 redeem my error by some act of gallantry ; the two 
 camps lay quiet save for skirmishes and firing at the 
 outposts, and I was not allowed to go with the little 
 party who seized and fortified Ploughed Hill. For me 
 there was but dull routine, and time dragged wearily 
 enough. 
 
 In October we were enlivened by the arrival of Mrs. 
 Washington, which made much difference at the camp. 
 She came with an escort of honor, and was cheerfully 
 received, especially by the wives of the public men, who 
 liked to be invited to headquarters. There was much 
 parade and gayety to welcome her ; she driving into Cam 
 bridge in her own carriage, drawn by four horses, with 
 black postilions, wearing liveries of scarlet and white, 
 which caused some curious comment ; but it was the 
 fashion then in the Province of Virginia, where the 
 black slaves were far more plentiful than with us in New 
 England. She entertained much at headquarters, and was 
 the means of comforting many of the womenfolks who 
 fretted at the change from the old-time gayety and state
 
 1 72 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 in Boston, where they had been wont to dance at 
 Province House, and now found the poverty and disci 
 pline of the patriot army but a poor exchange. 
 
 The Virginia riflemen, however, got into a quarrel in 
 the camp which caused a ruffle one afternoon. They 
 were strangely uniformed, like Indian trappers, their 
 clothes being of brown holland, wearing a shirt with a 
 double cape upon the shoulders, while on their breasts 
 in large letters was their motto, " Liberty or Death." 
 The sailors from Marblehead laughed at them, and 
 from jest arose a quarrel ; they came to blows, and there 
 was a great tumult, for both parties were gallant men 
 and mighty. His Excellency himself separated the 
 fiercest combatants ; riding up when the quarrel was at 
 its height, he rushed into the melee and broke it up. 
 Then it was that he again found cause to be displeased 
 with me. A moment before, I had come upon the 
 scene, and was in the thick of it, striving to quiet the 
 brawlers ; but I fear that he put a far different interpreta 
 tion upon my presence, since the Marblehead men were 
 my neighbors, and there was some jealousy between the 
 colonies. He came upon us with one of those fierce 
 outbursts, when he gave way to his temper and drove 
 all before him like a tempest. He was terrible in anger, 
 partly, I think, because it was in such sharp contrast 
 with his usual unruffled mood. I have seen him at such 
 moments in battle, or when an order was disobeyed, or 
 a duty neglected in time of danger, and men shrank 
 before him, stricken dumb with amazement and often 
 with fear. At these times an unfavorable impression went 
 far to prejudice him against an offender ; and he turned 
 on me coldly, when the affray was over, and dispatched 
 me upon some errand with a sharp tone of command. 
 I knew that another black mark was written against my
 
 A TURN IN THE TIDE. 173 
 
 good name. It is ever so ; the first misfortune brings a 
 train of others, and it is a bitter struggle to overcome the 
 chastisement of an adverse destiny. 
 
 In August the redcoats had captured a supply of 
 oxen and sheep, and there had been great rejoicing at 
 their arrival at Boston, but it was only a drop in the 
 bucket. Soon the condition of the inhabitants became 
 so critical that Mr. Gage permitted the townspeople, who 
 so desired, to depart. But he would allow them no 
 silver or plate, and forbade them to take more than five 
 pounds in money with them ; and many were perplexed, 
 wishing to go, but dreading to leave their goods at the 
 mercy of the soldiers. Some that came forth evaded 
 the vigilance of the British, concealing silver and money 
 in their household chattels, and the women even quilted 
 it in their petticoats ; one good dame do I remember 
 whose skirt was heavy about her feet from being lined 
 with spoons and forks and other pieces of plate ; and she 
 concealed it by a pretence of illness, being carried in 
 her chair by her husband and a faithful servant. The 
 Whigs who remained behind were much tormented, and 
 on the lightest pretext thrown in the common jail, as 
 felons ; all the patriot prisoners suffered great indignities, 
 being treated as malefactors and threatened with the 
 hangman's noose. Washington remonstrated and threat 
 ened retaliation, but to little purpose ; the Ministerial 
 ists acknowledged no rank save that derived from his 
 Majesty, and they refused to treat the colonists as 
 prisoners of war. Our worst enemies were still the 
 Tories ; they were ever the most violent against us, and 
 it was they who chiefly labored on the day that the 
 Liberty Tree upon Boston Common was hewn down, 
 a petty act of malice, which harmed no one save a British 
 soldier who was killed when the old tree fell.
 
 174 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 The townspeople coming out brought these tales, and 
 the Whigs within the town found also opportunities to 
 send out information. I was ever eager in my efforts to 
 obtain it, in the hope of some word from Joyce, and it 
 was through Ephraim that I succeeded. The maid who 
 attended Lady Talbot was related to a friend of Minot's, 
 and thus I heard that the Talbots were living near Prov 
 ince House on Marlborough Street, and were held in 
 much esteem. Sir Anthony, between gout and rage 
 against the Yankees, was in an evil plight and had been 
 ill all summer. 
 
 Knowing how short were the provisions in the town, 
 salt pork and rum alone being plenty, I felt a keen 
 anxiety for Joyce, and fell to scheming to find a way to 
 send her some word of comfort, to offer her some alter 
 native in the hour of extremity, for we were likely to dis 
 tress the garrison yet more deeply before the end. 
 There was no chance of reaching her except through 
 Ephraim, and at first I hesitated to employ him on any 
 errand which involved even innocent communication 
 with the enemy. But my misgivings were presently 
 relieved by his own announcement that he was in the 
 habit of talking with a friend who came through the 
 lines at Charlestown Neck. The man was a Boston 
 Whig, and had friends and relatives among the minute- 
 men of Massachusetts Bay, and was a link of communica 
 tion with the city, no uncommon thing, bringing 
 tidings of the plans of the British to our men. I soon 
 found that it was through this fellow, Thomas Basset, that 
 Ephraim had his tidings from Boston ; the two had known 
 each other in old days, both having served with Braddock 
 and being warmly attached, as old campaigners often are. 
 At night, when Basset could evade the sentries, Ephraim 
 stole over to Mount Pisgah and returned in the morning,
 
 A TURN IN THE TIDE. 175 
 
 laden with tidings of the camp of the Philistines and of 
 the doings in the town. Many houses were used as 
 barracks, winter quarters for the men, and much prop 
 erty had been injured and destroyed. Basset spoke 
 much of Mr. Howe's sharp discipline in matters of 
 dress ; no soldier could appear on duty without smoothly 
 clubbed and finely powdered hair ; their shirts must, too, 
 be frilled and fair, and a slovenly worn leggin was a 
 serious offence ; their scarlet coats were regulated and 
 cut by rule, and each man was compelled to wear a uni 
 form stock, his arms and accoutrements must be shining, 
 and his hat neatly bound ; the marines wearing roses in 
 the front of theirs. None could appear under arms with 
 tobacco in their mouths, and for serious offences, such as 
 plundering, now becoming but too frequent, the 
 punishments were in equal measure ; hanging, and lash 
 ing with the cat-o'-nine-tails, even extended to the 
 receivers of the stolen property, a soldier's wife having 
 received one hundred lashes on her bare back at the 
 cart's tail. These things and the lack of provisions made 
 much discontent among the rank and file, and desertions 
 became more frequent. All this showed to my mind 
 the likely consequences of yet greater troubles ; the time 
 might come when these men, held now by Howe's iron 
 hand, would break their bonds, and murder and riot 
 would run through the devoted town. Yet with all these 
 distresses the Tories were thankful for the shelter of 
 the British flag, dreading to face their indignant coun 
 trymen. Many Tories had enlisted to defend the Min 
 isterial cause, and were called the Loyal American 
 Associators, wearing a white sash upon the left arm, 
 while the Loyal Irish Volunteers, also enlisted Tories, 
 wore the white cockade. Many officers in the Conti 
 nental army following General Washington had assumed
 
 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 the black cockade, because he had worn it on the day 
 he took command of the troops, and our new reinforce 
 ments would wear some semblance of a uniform, the 
 buff and blue being our choice, but there was always 
 a motley array. 
 
 Wrought upon by my anxiety and Basset's tales of 
 trouble, I called upon Ephraim for assistance, telling 
 him only that I desired to send a letter into Boston to 
 an old acquaintance there, and he was ready enough to 
 hand it to his friend, assuring me that Basset could be 
 trusted with a concern of far greater weight. But I was 
 mindful that Basset and my letter might be seized, and 
 wrote nothing of what was in my heart; telling Joyce 
 only that if she needed any service that I could render 
 without violating my duty, or if she desired to quit the 
 town, and I could be the means of bringing her through 
 our lines in safety, she had but to command me. I 
 could not forbear to add, even at the risk that other 
 eyes should see, that though she had forgotten me, I 
 was not made of so slight stuff. Having sealed the mis 
 sive up, I gave it to Ephraim, and that night received 
 assurance that it was on its way and the next morning 
 would bring me an answer, if answer could be had. 
 Though I strove hard to school my heart to cool com 
 posure and forbade myself any anticipation, yet I was 
 as impatient for the morrow as any schoolboy for his 
 holiday, and I could not forbear going with Ephraim 
 upon his errand. I told myself that I desired to visit 
 our lines along the Mystic ; but such was not the purpose 
 that awakened me so early that I was stirring when the 
 drum beat at daybreak and was among the first that 
 turned out to man the lines. At sunrise, according to 
 custom, we were marched to prayers, and then heard the 
 orders of the day, read at the head of each regiment.
 
 A TURN IN THE TIDE. 1 77 
 
 It was not until these formal proceedings were over that 
 I obtained permission to depart with Minot to Mount 
 Pisgah. Free, at last, we sped upon our errand. We 
 went by way of Inman's woods, Mount Pisgah, and 
 Cobble Hill ; below this last, the enemy's outposts were 
 stationed at Charlestown Neck, and here it was that 
 Thomas Basset usually came through the sentries, who 
 were, I fancied, friendly to him. It was not in my 
 mind to go down to the lines, though General Putnam 
 was apprised of my errand. I intended rather to remain 
 by our pickets, knowing that any exposure of our com 
 munications with a Boston Whig would put a halter 
 about his neck, and that Ephraim could accomplish 
 much where I should only blunder. 
 
 We walked rapidly and in silence, my mind being full 
 of conjectures and half-formed hopes, while Minot was, 
 no doubt, intent on his own schemes. 
 
 We passed our lines at Mount Pisgah, scarcely paus 
 ing to exchange greetings, and went on beyond our 
 pickets, where I paused and let Minot go upon his 
 errand. A light fog favored our purpose, and I 
 waited unnoticed, though within gunshot of the enemy. 
 Through the mist I saw their intrenchments and 
 could hear a fife in the distance. But for that it was 
 strangely quiet, and it seemed impossible that two 
 hostile camps could lie so near and this calm prevail 
 between. I think the rank and file had no great desire 
 to fight us : it is ever thus ; the enmity lies with those 
 who make the quarrel, not with those who fight it. Thus 
 I was convinced that the British sentries permitted Bas 
 set's expeditions ; it was no uncommon thing for one of 
 them to desert to our lines, and they doubtless knew that 
 Basset was a go-between. He belonged too, as I 
 afterwards learned, to that dare-devil class of men who 
 
 12
 
 178 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 are ever running upon such perilous enterprises and 
 strangely enough come off scot-free. I waited there, 
 that morning, with an anxious heart, both from my an 
 ticipations and because I feared that Ephraim might run 
 into danger for my sake. Having no knowledge of their 
 plans, I did not dare to interfere lest I should be the 
 cause of disaster, and it seemed long before I saw 
 Ephraim returning, calm as usual, and whistling softly 
 to himself. At first I thought he had no tidings, but 
 presently he thrust a little letter in my hand, as we 
 walked back together, and my heart gave a great throb 
 as I recognized Joyce's handwriting upon the wrapper. 
 I did not open it, but put it jealously away ; her letters 
 were not for common eyes, and it was not until we had 
 reached Mount Pisgah, and Minot joined the soldiers 
 there, that I found an opportunity to read it. I walked 
 back alone, and when I reached Inman's woods, paused 
 by a great hemlock and broke the seal and kissed her 
 letter before I read it ; mayhap, it was best so, for that 
 was all the happiness, the rest being a sharp disappoint 
 ment. She addressed me as a stranger ; " Mr. Allen," 
 she called me, and told me briefly, coldly, that she had 
 no thought of joining the king's rebels at Cambridge. 
 She thanked me for my kindness, but she would rather 
 suffer in his Majesty's cause than taste great plenty in 
 such evil company. As for being made of light stuff, 
 she prayed me to remember that there were some who 
 not only forgot old friends, but also their allegiance to 
 their rightful sovereign, and her only hope was that the 
 king's gracious mercy would spare all such a traitor's 
 doom. Below, her name was signed in full, with a firm 
 hand ; and that was all, all that she would say to the 
 rebel who was mad enough to love her still. I crushed 
 the letter in my hand, with bitterness of heart, blaming
 
 A TURN IN THE TIDE. 179 
 
 my folly for writing to one who so persistently resented 
 my faithful attachment, who had no mind to spare my 
 feelings, rather, as it seemed, delighting in striking them 
 with a sharp lash. Yet through all I saw her, wilful, 
 resentful, determined, but lovely, and bewitching still ; 
 her dark blue eyes shining, and the color of the wild 
 rose in her cheeks. So she had been as a child, so she 
 would be ever, for no time could change her in my eyes. 
 Nevertheless her letter stung me and awoke my pride 
 anew. I resolved henceforth to remain aloof, to let her 
 feel the need of kindness ere I offered it ; surely so wil 
 ful and petulant a spirit deserved some punishment. 
 Doubtless her love for me was long since dead, and I 
 had attached too grave an import to her momentary re 
 lenting when we parted at the Sign of the Sun. Then 
 the thought of Beresford returned to torment me ; if she 
 preferred to favor such a coxcomb, she must even have 
 her will. I knew that women sometimes loved such idle 
 fellows because it is such as these who have the leisure 
 to pay them court and dally at their beck all day, while 
 honest men have graver employments. These thoughts 
 but increasing the bitterness of my heart, and feeding 
 the flame of my disappointed passion, I found but little 
 comfort and went back to my duties, sorely cast down and 
 vexed. I found them, from that day, more irksome and 
 cheerless than ever, since the light of hope was more 
 and more obscured. Yet it awoke a spirit of resentment 
 in my bosom, and I was eager for the combat and began 
 to fret with the others at our inactivity. All the more 
 venturesome spirits in the camp desired an attack on 
 Boston, murmuring at our feeble efforts to return the 
 enemy's fire. But we were still short of powder, and the 
 time of enlistment of many of the regiments was nearly 
 out, so that our forces were likely to be depleted rather
 
 180 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 than increased. The winter, too, had set in now most 
 severely ; the rivers and the bay were frozen over, and 
 the snow lay white upon the uplands, while the cold was 
 biting and our men had begun to suffer from the need of 
 fuel. With the prospect of the withdrawal of a large body 
 of Connecticut militia, whose term of service had expired, 
 we were in no condition to besiege the town. However, 
 by the end of the month, fresh stores of ammunition 
 came to us through the capture of the ordnance brig 
 Nancy; she was taken by Captain Manly, the com 
 mander of one of our ships, and her stores were brought 
 to us from Cape Ann, muskets, flints, shot, and mortar 
 beds. Great were the rejoicings, and the huge brass 
 mortar was baptized " Congress," by General Putnam, 
 who used not water but rum for the christening, which 
 was performed amid the deafening cheers of the men. 
 
 In spite of the weak state of our army, the Philistines 
 remained quiet, though we looked daily, hourly for an 
 attack. They even permitted us to commence the work 
 of building a battery at Lechmere's Point without firing 
 a gun. The snow fell heavily at this time, and the cold 
 was intense ; but General Washington pushed on the work, 
 and a causeway was built across the marsh to the point, 
 and in the morning we broke ground near the water 
 side but half a mile from their man-of-war. The 
 party was commanded by General Putnam, and I was 
 with them, to my great joy, since my only resource was 
 activity. The morning dawned foggy, and the vapors 
 from the ice and snow rose to meet the cloud of mist. 
 Quietly and swiftly the work went on, and it was not 
 until the noonday sun dispelled the fog, that the enemy 
 saw us laboring at the intrenchments ; but no sooner were 
 we discovered, than the guns of the man-of-war opened 
 upon us, and also a battery at Barton's Point. Our little
 
 A TURN IN THE TIDE. l8l 
 
 party was raked with shot and shell, and one young 
 soldier, but a lad, who was a little way beyond our works 
 was struck by a ball and stretched upon the snow. In a 
 moment he rose and strove to struggle toward us, for the 
 order had been given to retreat, it being useless to sacri 
 fice the lives of the men. I was watching the young 
 fellow, and saw him sink down once more with a pitiful 
 expression of despair. The soldiers were gathering up 
 their tools, and all about me was the confusion of re 
 treat, while the balls rained on every hand. I took no 
 thought of the greater risk ; I leaped over the earth and 
 snow cast up by their picks, and running to the lad, 
 lifted him in my arms, and struggled back across the 
 slippery ground. The burden was heavy, and the shots 
 whirled around us, while my feet sank deep in the snow ; 
 but I brought him up, and joining the detachment bore 
 the lad to a safe spot, when the others were more ready 
 to aid him, and he was carried back to camp. General 
 Putnam touched my shoulder as he passed me. 
 
 " A kind heart brings its own reward," he said in his 
 kindly way ; and I knew that he had seen my action, but 
 I took no thought of it, for after all it was but my duty. 
 
 The next day an eighteen-pounder from Cobble Hill 
 played on the vessel, and it was compelled to drop down 
 below the ferry ; our works were then renewed and 
 finished, despite the cannonade from the. enemy's bat 
 teries, and Lechmere's Point, being thus strongly fortified, 
 threatened Boston. 
 
 Not many days after this, I was bidden to an enter 
 tainment at headquarters, and went, not without re 
 luctance. I had been so steadily overlooked in all 
 expeditions that might have won me promotion, had 
 been so coldly treated, that my pride was touched. I 
 remember that 1 entered the room behind a group of
 
 1 82 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 t 
 
 officers, and stood alone by the door unnoticed, as I 
 
 thought. It was a gay scene ; the apartment was 
 thronged with people, members of the Provincial Con 
 gress, judges, lawyers, and everywhere the uniform of 
 our officers. The wives and daughters of officials and 
 of all the Whigs in the vicinity were present, and here 
 was much fine dressing ; gowns of flowered brocade, cf 
 gay satin, of rich silk, worn over great hoops, and some 
 of them cut lower at the bosom than we country people 
 thought modest. Their hair much powdered was dressed 
 wonderfully high with flowers and feathers, and there 
 was a great fluttering of ribbons and of fans. A gay 
 scene, truly, in contrast with the poorly clad and poorly 
 armed camp without, yet it was well to keep up a show 
 of cheerfulness. Mrs. Washington was standing near 
 me, attired in a white brocade, much flowered with great 
 pink roses, the overskirt as I think the women call it 
 being looped up at the sides with roses, and showing 
 below a petticoat of satin brocaded thickly with gold 
 figures and worn over huge hoops. It was short in front, 
 and showed her high-heeled slippers, that had marvellous 
 gold buckles. The bodice was more modestly cut than 
 some, though her neck was very pretty, and she wore a 
 kerchief of rare lace, so Mrs. Adams told me ; it was she 
 who afterwards called my attention to all these details, 
 and asked me to notice the pink roses in Mrs. Washing 
 ton's powdered hair, which she said were a wondrous 
 match for those upon her gown. The great lady was so 
 surrounded by distinguished guests that it was some 
 little time before I could address her. At last she saw 
 me and smiled a greeting as I advanced, the others fall 
 ing back a little at the approach of a stranger. 
 
 " I am glad to see you here to-night," she said with 
 unusual cordiality.
 
 A TURN IN THE TIDE. 183 
 
 "And I am glad to hear you say so, madam," I re 
 turned with some feeling ; " I feared that I was scarcely 
 a welcome guest." 
 
 " Nay," she said, giving me her hand with her sweet 
 est smile, " I am ever happy to welcome a brave man, 
 Captain Allen." 
 
 This was the first I heard of my captain's commission. 
 My simple act, in saving the lad's life at Lechmere's 
 Point, so unworthy of record, had won forgiveness of my 
 former errors, and the long-delayed promotion was mine 
 at last.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 SUSPENSE. 
 
 ON the first day of the New Year the Philistines sent 
 us the king's speech, made at the opening of Parliament ; 
 and a cruel address it was ! It came out by a flag, and 
 was delivered in due form and with all ceremony ; and 
 when the text of it was bruited about the camp, the 
 soldiers were inflamed against it and against his Majesty. 
 Yet it was not a strange thing that the king should call 
 our struggle to maintain our liberties "a rebellious 
 war ; " kings love not the truth too plainly spoken and 
 enforced by cannon shot. But there was no touch of 
 mercy in his language, and he showed that his hand was 
 also against us. The determination, too, to hire Hes 
 sians and Cossacks to crush his own subjects, free 
 Englishmen, was the unkindest blow of all. That a king 
 should send hirelings to shed the blood of his people 
 seemed all that was needed to sever the tie that bound 
 us to our allegiance. The anger of the troops blazed 
 out in an outburst of applause when our new flag was 
 raised on Mount Pisgah that same day, with a salute of 
 thirteen guns. The, new banner had Saint George's and 
 Saint Andrew's crosses combined in a blue field, bor 
 dered by thirteen stripes of red and jvhite in honor of 
 the thirteen provinces, now solemnly united in a league 
 and covenant ; we had not yet the flag that became 
 ours at last, but this was the first symbol of our union.
 
 SUSPENSE. 1 85 
 
 Already among the soldiers there was a desire for free 
 dom ; they no longer cherished any regard for the king's 
 authority. The arms were in their hands, and they had 
 no wish to lay them down until our liberty was an ac 
 complished fact and not an empty name. When a 
 breach is once made, it is no easy matter to heal it again, 
 and the anger of our people was kindled against his 
 Majesty; they held him responsible for the oppressive 
 acts of Parliament and of his ministers. The feeling, too, 
 that we had gone too far to retreat with honor or with 
 safety was current amongst us ; if we surrendered now, 
 we should be made to suffer for our rebellion against 
 unjust laws, and instead of achieving our redress we 
 should but rivet the chains upon our limbs and be rather 
 slaves than freemen. Thus it was that we drifted slowly 
 but surely on the tide that was to carry us to the open 
 sea of our independence ; bought dearly with tears and 
 blood, but remaining a glorious monument of our en 
 deavors. Yet at this very season we had but just passed 
 through a sharp ordeal, having been compelled to disband 
 one army and organize another in gunshot of an enemy, 
 and all the while short both of weapons and of ammuni 
 tion. The Connecticut troops had threatened to mutiny 
 at one time, being filled with discontent and determined 
 to depart, even before their enlistment time was fully 
 out; their conduct disheartening his Excellency, but 
 they were sharply rebuked by the loyal people of their 
 own province, and fresh troops were sent us. In the 
 interim, however, New Hampshire and the Massachu 
 setts Bay behaved with noble fortitude and self-sacrifice ; 
 their reinforcements filling up all vacant places, and the 
 men coming with great cheerfulness and promptness at 
 the first summons to the field. In the midst of these 
 trials and tribulations the Congress of the United Col-
 
 1 86 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 onies, sitting at Philadelphia, continued to urge General 
 Washington to make an attack upon Boston, and to re 
 gard not the town or the property that might be thus 
 utterly destroyed. That stanch patriot, President Han 
 cock, seconded their resolution by his personal let 
 ter, although he had much estate there. " May God 
 crown your attempt with success. I most heartily wish 
 it," he wrote, " though I may be the greatest sufferer." 
 It was this noble spirit of self-sacrifice, happily ani 
 mating our best and bravest, that made the struggle 
 possible. 
 
 In spite of all the urging of Congress and his own de 
 sires, General Washington yet forbore to make the at 
 tack because our strength was still inadequate, but he 
 made a call upon the Provinces of Massachusetts, New 
 Hampshire, and Connecticut, for additional troops to 
 serve through February and March, being determined, 
 as we learned later, to make the assault in the spring. 
 It was in January that we alarmed the Philistines, how 
 ever, by an attack on their outposts at Charlestovvn. I 
 was with the party under the command of Major Knowl- 
 ton, and we set fire to the few houses that remained on 
 Main Street, took several prisoners, and came off with 
 safety despite the enemy's guns on Bunker Hill. It 
 seemed that we carried consternation into Boston, our 
 attack alarming the pickets and breaking up an evening 
 of enjoyment at Faneuil Hall, where the royalists were 
 witnessing their farce, "The Blockade of Boston." It 
 was like to prove a sorry jest to them, for they were 
 truly sore pressed by our forces, and the town was a sad 
 spectacle for such as loved the freedom of their native 
 land. Many houses had been pulled down for fuel, and 
 the churches were often desecrated ; the Old North 
 Church, from whence had shone the signal that aroused
 
 SUSPENSE. 1 87 
 
 the country for Lexington, had been used for firewood, 
 and the Old South Meeting-house was Burgoyne's riding- 
 school ; insolent soldiery swarmed in the streets, and it 
 was only Mr. Howe's severity that held license in check. 
 Yet they were gay withal, especially since the arrival of 
 store-ships from Nova Scotia and the West Indies. After 
 that, the demolition of houses and wharves was stayed, 
 and the officers and men of fashion among the Tories 
 made much sport of our rebellion, plays and masques 
 went on night after night ; they even sent their playbills 
 out to his Excellency and other officers, in derision of 
 our sober conduct. Great was the contrast; we were 
 struggling with poverty and desperation against the 
 tyrant, and it behooved us to be grave. We were for 
 bidden all games of cards or of chance. " At this time 
 of public distress," said the general orders, "men may 
 find enough to do in the service of their God and their 
 country, without abandoning themselves to vice and im 
 morality." Thus, while one side invoked the aid of 
 Heaven, the other seemed to invite the machinations of 
 Satan. 
 
 The winter, which had set in with great severity, was 
 now open, a great change having come in the last month, 
 and the bay was free from ice. We were still short of 
 powder and artillery, until Colonel Knox brought down 
 cannon and howitzers from Crown Point and Ticonderoga, 
 and we obtained ammunition from the king's stores in 
 New York. By the end of February, preparations were 
 made at last to attack the town, and Washington made 
 requisitions for the militiamen ; meeting a cheery re 
 sponse, for the soldiers of all sorts and conditions were 
 eager for the fray. The camp became the scene of 
 much activity ; fascines and screwed hay were collected 
 for the intrenchments, and batteaux and floating batteries
 
 1 88 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 were gathered in the Charles River. We kept up a can- 
 nonade upon Boston to divert the enemy, but our real 
 purpose was concealed. Many persons came to Cam 
 bridge to witness the scenes; among them being my 
 father, who was the more welcome because I could tell 
 him of my errors and my subsequent pardon with a 
 lighter heart now that I was promoted to a position 
 where I might do better service and prove my loyalty 
 and zeal. I knew well that it was for his sake that I 
 had been forgiven thus easily, and fancied he had al 
 ready heard the story from another source, though he 
 said not so, but merely asked me if I had any tidings 
 from Joyce, and smiled a little at my answer even while 
 he pressed my hand. I think that Joyce's perverse and 
 haughty temper rather pleased than affronted him ; he 
 thought of her as but a child, and the memory of her 
 pretty, wilful ways amused him still. But I had cause 
 to think her more the woman, and my heart was sting 
 ing yet with her disdainful words. 
 
 It was one Monday night, the fourth of March, that 
 Boston was cannonaded to cover our march upon Dor 
 chester Heights ; and while the British were occupied in 
 protecting their own property, we advanced with our 
 artillery, under the cover of darkness. We marched 
 about four thousand strong, under General Thomas, with 
 a train of carts loaded with intrenching tools and fas 
 cines, and we maintained the strictest silence, while the 
 thunder of our cannon on the hills shook the air. It 
 was eight o'clock when we reached the heights and 
 paused a moment to look out upon the scene. At our 
 feet lay Boston, all hurry and confusion, while the shells 
 from our artillery on the Charlestown side burst high 
 in the air above it, the red fire falling like flaming 
 stars upon the town. Behind this stretched the quiet
 
 SUSPENSE. 189 
 
 country, the lights of our camps showing dimly in 
 the white light of the moon. Upon our right the 
 bay stretched out in quiet beauty, a shining touch on 
 every crested wave. It was a scene at once terrific 
 and beautiful, and our hearts were stirred with the 
 profoundest emotions as we turned to our labor with 
 devoted energy. When at last the moon set, and dark 
 ness came and went, our works were bristling upon 
 the heights. The mists of early morning clearing away 
 before the rising sun, revealed us to the astonished Phi 
 listines, who could scarce credit the evidence of their 
 own senses, but regarded our intrenchments rather as 
 the work of magic than of a raw militia. 
 
 Intense excitement, ay, more than that, eager antici 
 pation, prevailed in our camp. It was the morning of 
 the fifth of March, the anniversary of the Boston Mas 
 sacre, and we desired to make the clay yet more mem 
 orable by a defeat of the British forces ; a battle seemed 
 inevitable. We could see the stir in the town, the com 
 motion on the fleet ; our position had manifestly roused 
 our contemptuous enemy. Our guns commanded not 
 only Boston, but Castle William and the harbor, and it 
 was not possible to ignore us, or to continue their diver 
 sions at the playhouse ; here was a more serious occu 
 pation in readiness for them, and from the signs of 
 disturbance it seemed that they had already accepted 
 the challenge. As the day advanced, the heights about 
 Boston v/ere filled with spectators, drawn from all direc 
 tions, in the anticipation of a repetition of Bunker Hill. 
 General Washington came to the works and addressed 
 words of encouragement to the soldiers, bidding them 
 remember the massacre ; he was answered by hearty 
 cheers, for our men were in high spirits and craved a 
 trial of our strength. We could see the preparations;
 
 190 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 the regiments of redcoats marching down to the wharves, 
 the dragoons galloping through the town, the trumpets 
 sounding to horse, and all the panoply of war glittering 
 before us, as it had upon that day in June. But a 
 higher will than man's prevailed ; the wind rose and 
 beat upon those transports, and in the furious surf no 
 boat could land. We remained upon the heights, and 
 watched them make effort after effort to reach us, but 
 in vain. The March wind howled among the hills and 
 swept the bay until its dark waters were lashed white 
 in their fury. The great ships in the harbor rolled and 
 tossed, the helpless playthings of the elements ; no boat 
 could live in such a sea. Our enemies were forced to 
 abandon their attempt, and another night we lay upon 
 our arms, having strengthened our works with untiring 
 zeal. 
 
 It was intended to attack Boston when the redcoats 
 made their assault upon Dorchester Heights, and a 
 body of troops waited at Cambridge for that purpose. 
 On the morrow, surely, the conflict would come, and 
 we were eager for it ; but the morrow dawned in a driv 
 ing rain, and the wind still swept the water so that the 
 enemy could make no attempt upon our works, and we 
 waited once more in vain. But we knew that the end 
 was at hand, for our guns commanded both town and 
 harbor, and they must either dislodge us or be de 
 molished ; there was no longer any possibility of an 
 evasion. The thunder of our artillery from Charlestown 
 and from Dorchester shook the houses of the devoted 
 town, and shells were bursting on every side, while the 
 British returned the fire from their intrenchments and 
 from the shipping ; but it was not to be for long. On 
 the eighth of the month they sent out a flag of truce 
 with a letter from the citizens ; it bore no address, for
 
 SUSPENSE. 191 
 
 the Tories would not give General Washington his title, 
 but it brought the tidings that General Howe was de 
 termined to evacuate Boston, and had promised them 
 not to destroy their town if he was permitted to depart 
 unmolested, and they begged a similar assurance from 
 our commander. This letter, having no official signifi 
 cance and sent in so strange a fashion, was treated 
 with the contempt it merited, and His Excellency con 
 tinued to strengthen our position, planting batteries at 
 Bird's Hill, and attempting to seize Nook's Hill, but 
 that, being near Boston, was discovered, and a sharp 
 cannonade from the enemy forced us to abandon it. 
 But our guns continued a ceaseless roar, and it was 
 now apparent that the town was in a state of terror 
 and confusion ; there was no longer any doubt that 
 Mr. Howe intended to leave it, to the despair of the 
 Tories. 
 
 We, upon the heights, watched and waited ; we could 
 see them throwing guns and gun-carriages off the 
 wharves, and the horse transports dropped down below 
 Castle William. It seemed that we were to have a blood 
 less victory, and there was a feeling of disappointment in 
 our army ; the men were thirsting to avenge their 
 wrongs and to achieve a signal triumph, but fate ordered 
 otherwise. Nevertheless, those days were full of deep 
 anxiety, and I looked down upon the town with a heavy 
 heart ; we knew, for tidings came to us in secret, that 
 the Tories were in sore distress lest they should be for 
 saken by their chosen protectors, and my thoughts 
 dwelt constantly with those violent royalists the Talbots. 
 What of them in this crisis? Would Dick be able to 
 take them with him, and where would they go? I waited 
 and made no sign ; had not my kindly advances been 
 rejected? If my services were required, they must seek
 
 192 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 them ; but through all those long days I had no thought 
 but of Joyce, knowing, as I did, that there might be 
 riot and violence in the town ere the redcoats left it ; 
 that even their own officers might fail to control them 
 at the last.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 AN OLIVE BRANCH. 
 
 THE days passed, and yet the redcoats lingered, and 
 there was much perplexity in our camp. His Excellency 
 desired, if possible, to spare the devoted town, and there 
 fore did not order a general assault, hoping to see the 
 departure of the troops. The British, however, re 
 mained inactive, and we, being but indifferently informed 
 of all that passed, were at a loss to interpret the delay. 
 As time wore on, General Washington became convinced 
 that Howe was temporizing, in the hope of reinforce 
 ments, and we were ordered to continue our works, 
 advancing constantly nearer to the town. Preparations 
 were made again to seize Nook's Hill, from whence we 
 could throw our shells into their stronghold, and a de 
 tachment was held in readiness to march to New York, 
 where it seemed likely that the enemy would endeavor 
 to gain foothold of a more permanent character. 
 
 It was the night before we seized Nook's Hill, and a 
 council of war was held at headquarters, where all these 
 matters were discussed. I had been all day on duty 
 on Dorchester Heights, and being indisposed had ob 
 tained leave to pass the night with my father, who had 
 again come to Cambridge, and I had reached the door 
 of his lodging when Ephraim Minot suddenly came up 
 behind me and plucked my sleeve. Turning, I saw that 
 he was not alone, but that a tall man stood behind 
 him. 
 
 13
 
 194 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " I have a friend here to see you, Captain Allen," he 
 said quietly ; but something in his voice stirred my blood 
 with a new excitement, and I bade them enter. 
 
 We went to my father's rooms, but found that he was 
 absent, and so I had the better opportunity to see my 
 visitors. I had failed to recognize Ephraim's com 
 panion, and was now both pleased and startled to find 
 that he was the go-between, Thomas Basset. He had 
 made his way out of Boston in the midst of the dis 
 orders prevailing there, and, with Ephraim's aid, came 
 safely through our lines. I questioned him eagerly 
 about the state of the town, desiring rather to hear of 
 Joyce, but delaying the important matter until the last, 
 as we do when we have a purpose lying next our hearts. 
 To my disappointment, the man knew little of General 
 Howe's intentions, but he told a sorry tale of the condi 
 tion of Boston. He said that the inhabitants were well- 
 nigh at the mercy of the lawless soldiers, despite the 
 orders of the commander to the contrary, and that both 
 soldiers and sailors broke open and plundered private 
 houses as well as stores. It seemed that Howe had 
 commissioned one Crean Brush, a notorious Tory, to 
 receive all valuable property and goods which might be 
 of profit to us, and to seize all such goods that were 
 withheld or concealed. Crean Brush, exceeding his 
 orders, was breaking open stores and stripping them of 
 their contents, plundering persons of all conditions ; his 
 example being imitated and exceeded by bands of law 
 less men, who thus found an apology for open robbery. 
 The state of the inhabitants was most unhappy, and 
 smallpox had been raging in the town ; beset by ene 
 mies and friends alike, and smitten with plague, Boston 
 lay a prey to every kind of violence. That Mr. Howe 
 was really preparing for departure, there seemed to be
 
 AN OLIVE BRANCH. 195 
 
 no reasonable doubt, and the Tories were thrown into 
 yet greater terror at the prospect of being left at the 
 mercy of their indignant countrymen. It was not until 
 I had drawn all this from him that I asked directly for 
 tidings of the Talbots ; I caught a flicker of amusement 
 in Ephraim's eyes as I spoke, and knew that he had 
 fathomed my reluctance to mention them. He was 
 strangely observant, in spite of his stolid face, and but 
 little escaped the notice of those small pale eyes. In a 
 moment, however, I had forgotten him, forgotten all else, 
 at the sight of the little missive that Basset produced and 
 handed me in silence. I knew it at a glance, and left 
 these two and went to the mantelpiece, to read it by the 
 light of the candle that burned there. It was but a few 
 lines, without any word of greeting, but I knew that it 
 had cost her much to write to me after her sharp words 
 of rebuke. " Once," she wrote, " you were good enough 
 to offer your aid whenever it should be needed. I am 
 very loath to ask it, but we need it now. I have per 
 mission here to see you, beyond our pickets, if you can* 
 obtain the like liberty. The bearer, one Thomas Basset, 
 will tell you at what hour and place I may meet you. 
 It grieves me to ask this, and it may be that you will 
 have no wish to speak with one of us. JOYCE." That 
 was all, but knowing her spirit and her pride, I knew 
 how much it had cost her to write it, and reproached 
 myself that I had let her be forced to appeal to me. 
 The humility of it touched me, not with triumph at my 
 victory, as some men might feel, but with deep tender 
 ness and compassion for her. My proud Joyce, how 
 much it must have stung her to write that simple little 
 letter ! She must too, be in some sore need of my aid 
 or she would never ask it. I questioned Basset sharply, 
 but drew nothing from him but the hour, the next day at
 
 196 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 sunrise, and the place for the meeting, which was Charles- 
 town Neck, beyond the very tavern of the Sign of the 
 Sun where she had scorned the rebel; but I bore no 
 malice, rather rejoiced only that I yet might serve her 
 with all love and loyalty. I found that Basset was pre 
 pared to return with my answer to Boston that night, and 
 went at once to headquarters to communicate the tidings 
 that I had gathered and obtain permission to go beyond 
 our pickets to hold conference with some one from the 
 town. The little information I had obtained was eagerly 
 welcomed, and leave was readily granted me to hold 
 communication with my friends. There was much pity 
 felt for the oppressed townspeople, and though the 
 malice of the Tories was naturally resented, the patriots 
 had never imitated their vindictiveness. 
 
 That night I slept but little, though it was the first on 
 which I had found an opportunity to lie down, for we 
 had been on a continual stretch of active duty. I had 
 obtained a respite for the sake of a little bodily recuper- 
 ation, but my short sleep was broken with dreams, in 
 which I fancied Joyce in distress and calling in vain to 
 me for help, help which I was powerless to give. 
 
 At daybreak I was up and dressed for my expedition 
 and panting with impatience for the hour. It was Satur 
 day, and that night we seized Nook's Hill ; but then all 
 was quiet, no sound but the beating of the drums to call 
 the men out to the lines. I went alone, and, avoiding 
 the bustle of the camp, made my way to the road which 
 led to Charlestown. I passed our works at Mount 
 Pisgah as the regiments were assembling for prayers, the 
 flush in the eastern sky heralding the day. When I 
 reached the appointed spot, near the Mystic, I could 
 see the sentries on duty at the enemy's outposts and 
 could hear the bugles in their camp at Charlestown. I
 
 AN OLIVE BRANCH. 197 
 
 walked up and down beside the river for half an hour, 
 and began to fear that some mishap had overtaken her ; 
 but at last I saw two figures, a man and a woman, com 
 ing toward me, and hastened to meet them. The man 
 was Basset, and the cloaked and hooded form beside him 
 I recognized at a glance. She left her escort and came 
 alone to meet me, I thought with some reluctance ; 
 doubtless she felt keenly that she must now appeal for 
 help to the Yankee she had so often rebuked. Never 
 theless, when I held out my hand in eager greeting, she 
 let hers rest in it an instant, and I thought I caught the 
 old Joyce looking out from her gray-blue eyes. But the 
 change in her sweet face smote me sharply; she was 
 pale, and soft shadows lay beneath her eyes, and I knew 
 that these last weeks had been full of anxiety. 
 
 " Joyce," I said gently, and could not keep the 
 tender tone out of my voice, "your note was full of 
 doubt that I would be willing to serve you have I 
 deserved this at your hands?" 
 
 " Nay," she answered with a falter in her tones ; " but 
 we deserve nothing from yours." 
 
 " I would endure much evil usage from you and for 
 give it," I rejoined quietly ; " but tell me how I can aid 
 you now." 
 
 " First, I must thank you," she said earnestly, bearing 
 herself with a dignity that reminded me of our estrange 
 ment. " I have but lately heard of Dick's escape from 
 your camp. He did not tell me, and my letter my 
 first letter to you," her voice played her false once more, 
 faltering softly, " must have seemed cruelly ungrateful 
 and unjust. You know how earnestly we thank you for 
 his safety." 
 
 I felt a sharp pang of remorse and regret when I 
 thought of all that my duty would have forced upon me.
 
 198 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " I do not deserve your thanks," I said briefly ; " it 
 was a rustic soldier, Ephraim Minot, who released your 
 brother in my absence. It 
 
 She interrupted me with an impatient gesture. 
 
 " Ay," she said quickly, " I know your way, of old ; 
 you never yet desired thanks or praise but I, having 
 Dick safe and sound, know whom to think of with grati 
 tude. And now I have come to my petition. My 
 father is ill, too ill, it seems, to go on shipboard. You 
 know that Mr. Howe is likely to evacuate the town, and 
 we must either go with him or fall into the hands of our 
 enemies." 
 
 " Your enemies, Joyce ? " I exclaimed reproachfully. 
 
 " Ay, sir," she said proudly, " the king's enemies are 
 ours." 
 
 " I never thought to bear that name to you," I re 
 joined quietly. 
 
 She glanced at my uniform of buff and blue, and at 
 the black cockade upon my hat. 
 
 " You wear the livery of the rebels," she said coldly ; 
 " that cockade should be of white to show the purity 
 of your loyalty. Black is suitable, since one who serves 
 so poor a cause should wear mourning for his errors." 
 
 "The cause of my country," I replied simply; " but 
 let us not quarrel for a poor cockade. I can aid you 
 I will find means to protect you in Boston ; but, Joyce, 
 you must leave it, for, unless the redcoats go, we shall 
 bombard the town." 
 
 " Alas," she said, " when you do, Mr. Howe will burn 
 it, so they say ; and already Crean Brush is seizing all the 
 merchants' goods." 
 
 "Yet you call Mr. Howe a just man ! " I said bitterly; 
 " rather, say I, a tyrant." 
 
 She bit her lip, and her cheeks flushed.
 
 AN OLIVE BRANCH. 199 
 
 " We will not talk of him," she replied. " I came to 
 pray that you would ask your commander for a passport, 
 that we may take my father to our home at Marblehead. 
 Dick goes with the army, and mother and I are left to 
 fight our own battles. Father knows not of my errand, 
 nor does Dick both would never consent to an appeal 
 to your army ; but we must go home if we may." 
 
 " You shall, if I have any power to win the passport," 
 I said earnestly, " and I wish that you might go at once. 
 But when we enter the town, I will protect you. Mean 
 while lawlessness may reign supreme. Joyce, I pray 
 that you and your mother will find means to come out 
 to us at once." 
 
 " Nay," she said coldly, " I have no more cause lo 
 fear the king's soldiers than yours, and we will stay while 
 our flag still floats above us." 
 
 " You despise us still, I see," I replied proudly ; " but 
 you have no cause to scorn men who are fighting for 
 their country and yours, Joyce, for you are no English 
 woman." 
 
 " I am a loyal subject yet," she said, averting her eyes, 
 " and I will be ever." 
 
 " And you have no kindness for a man who believes 
 in the cause that he has espoused?" I asked her in a 
 low voice, and saw the telltale color creeping up to her 
 soft hair. 
 
 " I hear you are a captain in the rebel army, sir," she 
 replied abruptly, with a quick glance from under her 
 long lashes. 
 
 " I am the same man who has loved you all these 
 years, dear Joyce," I whispered softly, touching her hand, 
 but she withdrew it quickly. 
 
 " Nay, Captain Allen," she said, catching her breath, 
 " I will not appear to pardon conduct that I condemn,
 
 200 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 because I have come to sue for a favor. I will be just 
 as true to my sense of duty as you are to yours. I 
 have asked a favor, because I know that you are just 
 and kind; but I do not ask it for the sake of our of 
 our " She broke off in confusion. 
 
 " Of our old love for each other," I said sadly. " Nay, 
 Joyce, I make no claims for old acquaintance. You 
 shall have my utmost service, and I will remember that 
 you scorn the rebel still ! " 
 
 " I thank you, sir," she said gravely, and held out her 
 hand in farewell, for already Basset had signalled twice 
 that the time was up. 
 
 " Farewell, Joyce," I said gently, and I could not 
 resist the temptation to kiss the little gloved hand I 
 held, although I felt it a contemptible weakness. " I 
 hear that you are likely to wed a soldier of your king's 
 may you be happy." 
 
 She drew her hand away, not unkindly, and walked a 
 few steps from me ; then she turned suddenly, and I saw 
 her blue eyes with a sparkle of mischief in them. 
 
 "Unhappily for my future, sir," she said, "I am 
 wicked enough base enough to to love a rebel ! " 
 
 I sprang toward her, but she had turned and darted 
 down the path, swift as a bird, and Basset called to me 
 to come no nearer to the lines. This would not have 
 checked me but that she turned and signed to me to 
 come no farther, and I saw a British sentry advancing to 
 meet them ; so I could do nothing but retreat, not wish 
 ing to encumber her with my presence. But my heart 
 beat fast, while I stood and watched until her slight 
 figure disappeared behind the hill and I was left alone 
 beside the river.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 SIR ANTHONY AT BAY. 
 
 ON Sunday morning the Philistines began to embark ; 
 we had seized Nook's Hill the night before and held it, 
 despite their cannonade. It was no longer possible for 
 them to remain in Boston, since we could now shell the 
 town at too close quarters ; an attempt to hold out against 
 us, would have caused great loss of life and been without 
 result. From our works we could see their movements 
 upon the wharves, and watched many of the inhabitants 
 crowding into boats, as well as the soldiers. The 
 Tories dreaded to meet us, more than did the redcoats, 
 and there was a general flight. At the first signs of 
 evacuation, our troops paraded, and a detachment, under 
 General Putnam, went in boats on the Charles River to 
 Sewall's Point, where they could reconnoiter Bunker Hill. 
 We had seen the redcoats marching out of their fortifica 
 tions, but thought that their sentries were yet on duty. It 
 was some time before we discovered that these figures at 
 their posts were but wooden images and that the fort was 
 empty. Our troops took possession with great joy, and 
 our colors once more floated over that height where 
 so much patriot blood was shed. All these things I 
 learned from hearsay, for on that morning I was at Dor 
 chester, with the troops under Colonel Ebenezer Learned, 
 who advanced upon Boston from that direction. 
 
 The British had commenced their embarkation at four 
 o'clock in the morning, and at sunrise the harbor was
 
 202 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 crowded with their transports and ships. We remained 
 there at our works on the heights and watched in silence. 
 Not a shot was fired ; we spared the inhabitants and the 
 fugitives. It was said later that, had we fired, they 
 would have burned the town, all being in readiness 
 for a conflagration. General Washington desired, how 
 ever, to spare bloodshed and to permit the property of 
 our loyal Massachusetts patriots to remain untouched. 
 It was a strange sight to look down upon that harbor, 
 crowded with their shipping, and upon the town, and to 
 behold the flower of the royal army in such dire distress. 
 Men rushed about as if possessed with madness ; women 
 and children were huddled, like sheep, upon the wharves, 
 while anxious Tories strove to bring away their goods. 
 The flash of arms, the scarlet coats mingled in the med 
 ley, but there was no military display ; it was rather a pre 
 cipitate flight than a retreat, and the desire to escape 
 seemed to animate all with a common impulse. We 
 could have smitten them, in their confusion, and in 
 flicted a heavy loss, but such was not the spirit that 
 glowed in the bosoms of the colonists. 
 
 By ten o'clock the enemy was embarked, and we 
 marched across Boston Neck with beating drums, young 
 Ensign Richards bearing the standard. We were forced 
 to move with great caution and deliberation, for our way 
 was strewn with crow's-feet that they had thrown about 
 to retard the advance of an attacking army. We found 
 their works marvellous strong here, and built with care 
 and regularity, and it seemed improbable that we could 
 have forced them ; on every hand were guns, spiked 
 before the enemy departed, and gun-carriages broken 
 in pieces. The work of destruction had been hasty, 
 and all the wreckage presented a gloomy spectacle. 
 Here were broken shells and shots, half buried in the
 
 S/X ANTHONY AT BAY. 2O3 
 
 ground, the whole scene telling its own story with simple 
 eloquence. General Putnam now assumed command, 
 and all important posts were manned, while we took 
 possession and raised the flag of thirteen stripes in 
 the name of the thirteen United Provinces. 
 
 Small-pox still prevailed in sections of the unhappy 
 town, and orders were issued that no officer or soldier 
 should enter without a pass. The main body of the 
 arjny was not to march in for three days, and meanwhile 
 we held all the points commanding town and harbor, and 
 saw the British fleet drop down the bay. It was a sea 
 son of joy and thankfulness; we felt no little self-ap 
 proval since we, being but raw troops, had driven his 
 Majesty's veterans out of their stronghold. The relief 
 and exultation in camp was universal, and his Excel 
 lency issued orders, forbidding the molestation of any 
 person or property, since the unhappy inhabitants of 
 Boston had suffered already but too deeply. 
 
 As soon as my military duties were discharged, I has 
 tened to headquarters to obtain a pass, having but the one 
 thought, to see Joyce as soon as might be. I had ob 
 tained leave to escort them to Marblehead, and hoped 
 to get them away at once, fearing that Sir Anthony's 
 temper would yet be the cause of trouble. 
 
 Having been to Cambridge in the afternoon, I ap 
 proached by the way of Charlestown, walking past its 
 blackened ruins with a sad heart. The broken walls of 
 some buildings yet remained, and the aspect of the place, 
 once so beautiful, was tragic and forlorn. The intrench- 
 ments upon Breed's Hill were manned by our troops, 
 who stood now by the graves of so many of their own 
 heroic brethren, sacrificed on that memorable day in 
 June. In the midst of our success, here was a melan 
 choly reminder of the sacred blood that it had cost.
 
 204 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 I took an open boat and crossed the river, landing at 
 the ferry-way beside the Battery, and so stood once more 
 in Boston, where I had not been for more than a year. 
 The town was quiet enough ; even the idle loiterers by 
 the wharves stood aside respectfully at the sight of my 
 uniform, and many of the inhabitants seemed eager to 
 greet me ; but I walked on rapidly, anxious to reach my 
 destination. I noted eagerly the aspect of the town, and 
 was astonished to see how little damage the bombard 
 ment had inflicted ; the condition of the place was far 
 better than I had anticipated, the houses presenting a 
 fair appearance outwardly, though some were sadly used 
 within, having been quarters for the common soldiers. 
 Some old houses were pulled down for fuel, and I saw that 
 the Old North Meeting-house had been utterly destroyed 
 for the same purpose ; doubtless the royalists had de 
 lighted in so doing, since from this church had shone 
 the beacon that announced the move on Lexington. 
 Every precaution had been taken to fortify the town, and 
 to my poor judgment it seemed well nigh impregnable. 
 All these things caught my eye in passing, but I paused 
 not to investigate and pushed forward eagerly, reaching 
 my destination, as it happened, in the nick of time. 
 The house that the Talbots occupied stood back on 
 Marlborough Street, and the door opening on the street 
 was on a level with the ground ; the windows of the liv 
 ing-rooms below stairs also stood within reach of the 
 passers-by. It was a low two-story house of brick, and 
 in the arch over the entrance, also of brick and slightly 
 concave, the king's arms were set in open defiance of 
 the Whig sentiment now predominant in the town, since 
 the Tories had fled with the Ministerial army. I had 
 heard an uproar before I turned the corner of the street, 
 and quickened my steps in time to see a party of rascals,
 
 S/A' ANTHONY AT BAY. 2O$ 
 
 town vagabonds, collected at the door of the Talbot 
 house ; one fellow, having mounted on the shoulders of 
 a comrade, was striving to detach the royal arms from 
 their resting-place. The remainder of the party cheered 
 him, and cast reproaches of no delicate nature at the 
 inmates of the dwelling. Seeing that they were con 
 centrating their attention upon an open window on the 
 lower floor, I divined the cause of the disturbance and 
 hurried forward, none too soon. At the very moment 
 of my approach, Joyce's dog, Laddie, aggravated by the 
 noise, leaped from the window and attacked a vagabond 
 who stood near by. The fellow, infuriated by the un 
 looked-for assault, seized a heavy stick from a compan 
 ion, and in an instant would have crushed the animal's 
 skull, but before the blow could descend, I had him by 
 the wrist, and seizing Laddie's collar with the other 
 hand, pulled them apart. The dog recognized me at 
 once and obeyed my touch, while the sight of my uni 
 form had a magical effect upon the crowd ; more mis 
 chievous than ill-natured, the idlers stood aghast at the 
 sight of an officer at so unexpected a moment. But my 
 appearance had not the same effect upon Sir Anthony, 
 who sat in a chair by the window, too lame to rise but 
 able to fling his defiance in the teeth of his enemies. 
 
 " Come on, ye ruffians ! " he shouted, his face its 
 usual purple, and his white wig awry, " an attack upon 
 a helpless old man and a lot of defenceless women is 
 worthy of your beggarly army and there, I see, is a 
 leader for you, wearing the devil's uniform, or that of 
 the rebel congress, which is one and the same. Don't 
 stop at his Majesty's arms burn, slay, rob that is your 
 mission, and worthy of you." 
 
 Stones and sticks began to fly at this invitation, and 
 I greatly feared that I could not stop the outbreak ; here
 
 206 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 was an element made worse by war, and ready to 
 espouse whichever side was victorious for the sake of 
 spoiling the defeated. Seeing the humor of the crowd, 
 I threw myself before the window, and still holding the 
 infuriated dog, addressed them in sharp, cool tones of 
 authority. 
 
 " Disperse to your homes," I said sternly ; " any dis 
 orderly conduct will be punished. All mutinous and 
 disobedient men will receive the lash or the stocks. His 
 Excellency, the commander- in-chief, is determined to 
 maintain the utmost discipline, and he will do it, if he 
 has to hang every rascal that violates his instructions, or 
 have him whipped at the cart's tail." 
 
 They shrank at my threats, the more timid losing 
 heart, and as the king's arms had already been thrown 
 down and trampled, their main object was accom 
 plished ; yet they wavered between fear of offending 
 the new powers and a desire to return Sir Anthony's 
 insults. 
 
 " You have no cause to defend that old Tory yonder, 
 sir," cried out one of the most reluctant ; " it is he who 
 deserves the lash, and right cheerfully would we admin 
 ister it." 
 
 " Let me but have the chance and I would lay it on 
 your backs fast enough," returned Sir Anthony's voice 
 from behind me ; " ay, I would give you " But here 
 the window shut sharply, cutting short his harangue. 
 
 I gave one quick glance backward, and saw Joyce 
 standing over him, and knew that I had an ally within. 
 I turned with fresh courage to the rabble. 
 
 " For shame ! " I said briefly ; " why stand here to in 
 sult a helpless, childish old man who is in charge of the 
 officers of the Continental army? It is for us to decide 
 his fate. Disperse to your homes, or you will presently
 
 S/X ANTHONY AT BAY, 2O/ 
 
 suffer for this. General Washington has no mercy for 
 disobedience." 
 
 " Give us the dog to hang and we will go," called 
 out the rogue whom Laddie had attacked. 
 
 " I will hang you first," I replied sharply ; " disperse 
 I give you five minutes; delay an instant at your 
 cost ; " and I drew my pistol from my belt. 
 
 Contrary to my expectations, they obeyed, sullenly 
 and slowly, it is true, but far more easily than I had 
 dared to hope. I stood there with my hand upon my 
 weapon, and watched them, Laddie growling fiercely at 
 my side. When the last rogue had turned the corner, I 
 struck the knocker gently on the door and waited for 
 admittance. The rebel soldier whom Sir Anthony had 
 forbidden his house, had come now to protect a van 
 quished foe. My heart beat high with expectation as I 
 watched the door. How could I know whose hand 
 would open it?
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE WHITE COCKADE. 
 
 THOSE few moments of joyful suspense seemed half 
 an hour, and then the door opened, but it was a timid 
 and a lingering hand that undid the bolt and chain, and 
 not Joyce but Lady Talbot stood upon the threshold. 
 So disappointed was I at the exchange that for the 
 moment I stood staring, while Laddie pushed past her 
 into the house. Then I recovered myself and saluted 
 her gravely, scarcely knowing how she would welcome 
 me, although she had been ever my ally. 
 
 " I am the bearer of your passports, madam," I said 
 with ceremonious courtesy, " and it may be that I can 
 serve you further in your arrangements, especially before 
 our troops occupy the town." 
 
 " I am thankful indeed to see you," she replied with 
 a faltering voice ; " we had been through so much, 
 suffered so much, during these awful weeks that I 
 cannot leave the town too soon. I would go this hour 
 if I might ! " 
 
 She was a timid woman, with a pale but handsome 
 face ; from her the son and daughter had inherited 
 their beauty, but their temperaments were from the 
 father's side. She showed now, plainly, her anxiety and 
 distress, and I saw that her hands were quivering with 
 nervousness from the ordeal but just ended. 
 
 " I am sorry that you cannot leave at once," I 
 answered kindly ; " but no one can pass out or come in
 
 THE WHITE COCKADE. 2CX) 
 
 as yet, until his Excellency is satisfied that the town is 
 purified from small-pox. But I trust that it will be so 
 in a few days, and you can go down to the sea." 
 
 All this while I stood in the street, making no 
 attempt to enter the house, and her lack of hospitality 
 suddenly occurred to her. She was in a difficult posi 
 tion, as I knew ; within, Sir Anthony was yet storming 
 against the rebels, and I was a rebel officer, yet I was 
 also, in a manner, her benefactor. I could see the con 
 flict of natural impulse and timidity, and then the former 
 won the battle, and she threw open the door. 
 
 " Come in, Mr. Allen," she said timidly ; " you must 
 be tired and and we have need to talk the matter 
 over." 
 
 " Nay, Lady Talbot," I replied gravely, " I would not 
 force myself upon your hospitality. I fear I am no 
 welcome guest. I am a soldier of the United Provinces, 
 and scarcely wanted in a Tory's house." 
 
 " Let us not speak of these unhappy things," she 
 rejoined plaintively. "We are old friends, Mr. Allen, 
 and you come to aid us ; do not fret me by standing like 
 a stranger, in the street." 
 
 " I would not displease you for the world, dear Lady 
 Talbot," I said, entering as I spoke ; " you were ever 
 my friend, and I like not my new name. ... I used to 
 be ' John ' to you." 
 
 She colored a little, embarrassed as any maiden, but 
 her glance was full of kindness. 
 
 " I feared you would not like the old familiar term 
 from me," she said sadly. " I know that we have used 
 you very ill." 
 
 " And you thought me so mean as to bear malice for 
 a difference of opinion?" I exclaimed. "I believed 
 that you knew me better." 
 
 M
 
 210 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " I thought no ill of you," she replied frankly, " but the 
 times are changed enough, and many ties are broken." 
 
 "That may be," I answered firmly, " but my affection 
 for you and yours is strong enough to endure the vicissi 
 tudes of fortune." 
 
 As we talked together, she had led me back to a 
 room in the rear to escape, as I divined, Sir Anthony's 
 tirade, which was audible behind the closed door of his 
 room. As we emerged from the dark passage into an 
 apartment lighted by two large windows, I stopped 
 short with an exclamation of surprise. Great confusion 
 prevailed, much of the window-glass was shattered, and 
 nothing but two broken chairs remained by the center- 
 table, while the pictures on the walls were cut and 
 thrust straight through the canvas. The room had the 
 appearance of a wreck. Seeing my amazement, Lady 
 Talbot looked about her with a smile of bitter resigna 
 tion. I felt the blood burn in my face. 
 
 " Surely," I exclaimed, " this is not the work of the 
 rascals that I caught before the house ? " 
 
 She shook her head. " The day that our army em 
 barked there was some disorder," she said calmly, 
 " although Mr. Howe strove to avert it ; but you cannot 
 control the rabble. A party of drunken soldiers broke 
 in here, and Sir Anthony provoked them. This is the 
 result." 
 
 " It is too much," I replied warmly ; " this from your 
 friends ! Truly, I would not value such discipline." 
 
 "And what was it you found before the door?" she 
 asked with a little smile. 
 
 I bit my lip. " Rabble, madam," I retorted briefly ; 
 "our troops are not yet in the town." 
 
 "And ours were leaving it," she said with stubborn 
 loyalty ; " it is a like case."
 
 THE WHITE COCKADE. 211 
 
 1 saw that these people would bear much before they 
 reviled the hand that wounded them, so determined was 
 their devotion to their king. Therefore I spoke briefly 
 of my errand, and frankly offered to escort them to 
 Marblehead, since the temper of the people was aroused 
 and they might be unfriendly to a family of Tories. She 
 heard me with patience, and was ready with her thanks, 
 but I saw that she hesitated to accept my offer ; and the 
 cause was not far to seek. I knew well that she feared 
 Sir Anthony's violence, and was not a little amused, 
 since I had foreseen this difficulty and scorned it. 
 What was it, after all, but the petulance of an evil-tem 
 pered man, aggravated by suffering and helplessness? 
 Surely, his vindictive tongue was beneath a brave man's 
 notice. But I let her hesitate and stammer, because 
 all the while I was plotting to see Joyce, and as yet 
 found no way to compass my design. I had seen her 
 at the window and I knew that she was in the house, but 
 how to ask for her? My pride was stubborn, and I felt 
 that my wayward sweetheart owed me thanks, since I 
 had responded to her request. Scheming for delay, I 
 threw my hat upon the table, and leaning back against 
 this solid piece of mahogany, folded my arms and talked 
 and listened to Lady Talbot. As we stood, my back 
 was to the door, while she was facing it. The chairs 
 were too disabled for use, so that we were forced to re 
 main upon our feet, and I think she feared to invite me 
 into a more comfortably furnished room lest I should 
 prolong my stay, and bring down the fury of Sir Anthony 
 on her devoted head. So closely did I press my cause, 
 supporting my argument with many substantial reasons, 
 that finally she yielded a reluctant consent, permitting 
 me to be their escort. She had tried to avoid it, by 
 suggesting the possible offence to my commander; but
 
 212 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 I swept aside this objection with the declaration that I 
 had obtained leave already to go home to Salem for a 
 brief season to adjust my personal affairs. My father 
 being almost constantly absent on public business, our 
 own matters were fast becoming much involved. In the 
 midst of this argument I heard a slight sound behind 
 me, and turning quickly, saw Joyce standing demurely 
 by the table. So pretty was the picture that she made 
 that I regarded her in silence. Her gown of some dark 
 red woollen, with a snow-white kerchief folded about 
 her throat and crossed upon her bosom, became her 
 well, and there was a soft color in her cheeks, while 
 her brown hair had escaped its bonds a little and rippled 
 about her brow and neck. . She stood there, with her 
 hands clasped before her, and regarded me from under 
 her dark lashes with a roguish gleam in her blue eyes. 
 At this moment we heard Sir Anthony's voice calling 
 sharply for his wife, and she hurried from the room, but 
 too eager to escape from my persistent argument. She 
 was conscious, too, that matters were strained to a sharp 
 point between Joyce and me, and willing to let me 
 settle my own quarrel ; in her heart she had ever been 
 my friend. Left alone with my wayward love, I ad 
 vanced with eagerness, holding out both hands, en 
 couraged with the thought that she had acknowledged 
 that she loved me still. But I was destined to disap 
 pointment ; she had no thought to greet me with any 
 show of tenderness. At my approach she moved away 
 to the farther side of the table and stood regarding me 
 in silence. Annoyed by her perversity, my hopes of a 
 warmer welcome dashed at once, I paused also, with 
 the table between us, and returned her glance with one 
 of open discontent. 
 
 "So," I said softly, "you did but fool me, Joyce ;
 
 THE WHITE COCKADE. 213 
 
 you did not mean the kind words that you spoke at 
 parting. I think that I deserve some thanks, too, 
 since I brought your passports and saved the life of 
 laddie." 
 
 "Nay," she replied with provoking levity, "if you 
 claim a reward for every act of kindness, then is it all 
 prompted by self-interest, and loses half its merit. True 
 service looks for neither praise nor thanks." 
 
 I bit my lip to keep back a hasty retort. I knew 
 myself no match for her, and she was ever a tantalizing 
 witch. 
 
 " You teach me a lesson, Miss Talbot," I said, as 
 suming her manner ; " it may be I deserve no thanks at 
 your hands." 
 
 At this she relented, as I had anticipated, and looked 
 down confused. 
 
 " You deserve our gratitude," she said softly, " and 
 you have it. I have already thanked you for Dick's 
 escape " 
 
 I cut her short ; my conscience would not permit her 
 to believe me more deserving than I was. It hurt me 
 to tell her the simple truth, but I told it, and she 
 listened to the end. Her face paled and flushed while 
 I related the whole incident, concealing nothing, though 
 I feared that I grieved her deeply and it stung my 
 heart to do it. 
 
 "The struggle between my duty and my love for 
 Dick was bitter, with the bitterness of death," I con 
 cluded sadly, scarcely daring to watch her face now, 
 " but I should have been forced to follow the dictates of 
 my conscience. I do not deserve your thanks." 
 
 For a moment there was silence, and I stood before 
 her like a convicted prisoner. Yet could I do no less 
 than tell her the whole truth, since a falsely interpreted
 
 214 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 action concerned my honor. But the truth was bitter, 
 and I felt it so. Still she spoke not. Doubtless she 
 would interpret my action in its blackest light. I 
 almost started when, at last, she broke the pause. 
 
 " Oh, thou Puritan ! " she said, " thou son of a 
 Puritan thou art worthy of thy blood!" 
 
 I felt that she mocked me, and raised my head 
 proudly. 
 
 "Is it only a Puritan who strives to do his duty?" 
 I asked bitterly. 
 
 " But you left the tent, John ! " she said roguishly, 
 shaking her ringer at me ; and she laughed her sweet 
 laugh, gay and light-hearted as a child. " Oh, John ! " 
 
 Then I knew that she did not choose to believe me, 
 and I was of two minds about it, half angry at her mock 
 ery, half happy that I could escape so lightly ; yet felt 
 myself a fool for my pains. 
 
 " I am thankful that I left it," I said honestly, " but 
 it was with no thought that I should be so easily de 
 livered from my troubles." 
 
 At this she laughed again, and then grew grave and 
 addressed me with much dignity. 
 
 " It is a pity," she said gravely, " that you who have 
 so tender a conscience should forget so soon your duty 
 to the king. In this alone you seem a stubborn wrong 
 doer, and have no perception of the enormity of your 
 error." 
 
 " Because I see a higher duty than that which I owe 
 his Majesty," I replied at once. 
 
 " You acknowledge the debt, though," she said quickly ; 
 " you are the king's subject yet." 
 
 " While he is still king in these Provinces, yes," I 
 rejoined quietly, " but it may be that the blow has al 
 ready been struck that severs that tie."
 
 THE WHITE COCKADE, 21$ 
 
 
 
 " Alas ! " she exclaimed with heat, " you are a greater 
 rebel than you were." 
 
 " A rebel who still loves you, Joyce, with a faithful 
 heart," I said, ignoring her rising anger, " and you have 
 admitted that you have not quite forgotten even the 
 rebel." 
 
 " I was wrong to say it," she retorted with spirit ; 
 " you wear a uniform that should proclaim you an en 
 emy of mine." 
 
 " Nay," I said softly, smiling as I made a move to 
 reach her side of the table, " look not at the uniform ; 
 what is the color of a man's coat compared with the 
 truth of his heart?" 
 
 " I love not the color of yours," she said perversely, 
 moving farther around the table to keep me at my dis 
 tance ; " it should be red as the blood of a faithful 
 heart." 
 
 " Aye, madam, I have heard you loved the redcoat," 
 I retorted with more feeling than wisdom. 
 
 She bit her lip and averted her eyes. 
 
 " It is true that I Iqve his Majesty's uniform," she 
 said bluntly. 
 
 "I am content if it is but the uniform," I answered 
 meaningly. " I should be happy to wear Joseph's coat 
 of many colors to win you back, my love, but I must 
 obey my conscience." 
 
 " Your conscience ! " she cried suddenly, stamping 
 her foot upon the floor ; " I wish you had no conscience ! " 
 
 I stood silent, for the moment astonished at this 
 amazing statement. Her cheeks were flushed and her 
 eyes sparkled ; she looked the picture of a little terma 
 gant, and yet withal as lovely as she was angry. 
 
 " I am weary of your conscience," she continued 
 with a quiver in her voice. " I wish I could find a man
 
 2l6 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 who had none, or could sacrifice a little of it for the 
 woman he loved ! " 
 
 " You think me a canting hypocrite," I said with 
 feeling, " but you do not know how I love you." 
 
 She turned and looked at me a moment, and then 
 pointed to my hat which lay between us on the table. 
 
 " In the old days of chivalry," she said quietly, her 
 manner changed once more, " a man would dare any 
 danger to serve the woman he loved. I have chosen 
 to test you yet once more. If you love me, wear that 
 as it is." 
 
 Now, being dull and slow in thought, I gazed at her 
 in some bewilderment. Then I took up my hat, and 
 in a moment saw what she had done at her first en 
 trance, while my back was turned. She had thrown 
 the black cockade upon the table, and in the place had 
 fixed a white one. This, or a white scarf upon the 
 arm was the emblem worn by Tories volunteering 
 into his Majesty's service. I looked up in quick re 
 proach, but could not read her face. I was angry, too, 
 but forbore to show it, and stood looking at the white 
 cockade in silence, which she was not slow to interpret 
 to her own liking. She leaned a little forward, resting 
 her hands upon the table, and looked up into my face. 
 
 "Will you wear it," she said softly, "for my sake?" 
 
 Never did any witch look more entreatingly upon 
 her victim, but I hardened my heart against her tender 
 persuasion. 
 
 " Never," I replied firmly, and threw the white cock 
 ade upon the table, replacing the black ; " I am a soldier 
 of the United Provinces." 
 
 She walked straight to the door, and stood there look 
 ing at me, her figure the incarnation of proud defiance. 
 
 " Farewell, Sir Rebel," she said, a red spot burning
 
 THE WHITE COCK A DR. 2\f 
 
 in either cheek and her blue eyes on fire ; " God save 
 the king ! " 
 
 And with that she left me, and I heard her quick 
 step lightly ascend the stairs. I stood there at a loss, 
 feeling myself routed at every turn and half angry at 
 her for her wayward treatment of me. But there was 
 nothing more to do. Happily 1 found Lady Talbot in 
 the hall, when I went out, and with her completed my 
 arrangements to see them safe from Boston. Divining, 
 no doubt, that Joyce had quarrelled with me again, she 
 faltered her own thanks for my kindness, but even she 
 was eager to get me from the house. I did not blame 
 her, for I heard the distant rumble of Sir Anthony's 
 wrath, that would not be appeased while an officer of 
 the Continental army yet darkened his doors. So it 
 was that I left the house at sword's points with two of 
 its inmates and but half tolerated by the third. Surely, 
 the course of my love ran not smooth.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 ROYALIST AND REBEL. 
 
 WITH drums beating and colors flying, our main army 
 entered Boston on the twentieth of March, and we were 
 hailed with joy by the inhabitants. They appeared at 
 the windows and the doors of the houses, greeting us as 
 deliverers, since they had suffered all the hardships of a 
 ten months' weary siege, and endured the suspicions 
 and insults of the enemy. Following our entrance, too, 
 came a concourse of people, relatives and friends of the 
 besieged, and their reunion was one of much tenderness 
 and feeling, and many touching scenes were witnessed. 
 Families had been separated, lovers divided, and all had 
 been tortured by doubt and anxiety. Many met in the 
 streets and embraced weeping ; the reserve even of New 
 England natures melted at such a time as this, and there 
 were both smiles and tears. It was sunshine breaking 
 through the storm cloud, more radiant because of its 
 long obscurity, as a golden ray slants with dazzling 
 brightness across the blackness of the tempest. 
 
 We found, on examination of the town, a large quan 
 tity of military stores and even some provisions left in 
 the hasty evacuation. We observed all the enemy's works 
 with interest, and were much astonished at the indifferent 
 construction of some entirely unlike the fortifications 
 upon the Neck. There were two or three half moons 
 at Beacon Hill and upon the Common, for small arms, 
 and on the shore, opposite Lechmere's Point, was a 
 bomb battery ; near this lay a mortar, and above, on the
 
 ROYALIST AND REBEL. 21$ 
 
 hill, a battery, the cannon being all spiked. Fort Hill 
 was but a line of barrels filled with earth, and at Hatch's 
 Wharf was also a battery with spiked guns ; but we were 
 able to save some of these cannon and a large number 
 of those left at the other batteries. The work of de 
 struction had been too hasty to be thorough, and much 
 was recovered. Their main works were thought well 
 nigh impregnable, but the intrenchments in the town 
 were but to fool us with an appearance of strength. 
 
 Faneuil Hall we found dressed up for mummers, a fit 
 work for the Philistines, and the Old South Meeting 
 was a shameful spectacle. Pulpit and pews were gone, 
 the floor was thickly strewn with dirt, a bar being fixed 
 for the cavalry to leap their horses, and a gallery fitted 
 up for a refreshment room. Two other churches, one 
 on Brattle street, the other upon Hollis, had been occu 
 pied as barracks. Trees were cut down upon the Com 
 mon, and it was otherwise much disfigured and its 
 beauty gone. We mourned, too, for the loss of the 
 Liberty Tree. There was much to depress our spirits in 
 this sad aspect of the familiar spots, and our own people 
 had suffered many losses, too, in money and in property, 
 and there was great distress amongst the poor. The 
 Ministerial fleet lay at Nantasket Roads, to the annoy 
 ance and alarm of the country folks, and it was ten days 
 or more before the larger portion of it sailed for Halifax. 
 
 I did not linger long amid these scenes. I had 
 obtained a leave of absence, and was permitted to escort 
 the Talbots to Marblehead. Determined that Joyce 
 should learn the value of my services and respect my 
 forbearance, I made all the arrangements that were re 
 quired to conduct them safely upon the road, and this, 
 too, without seeing or speaking with her. I had found 
 Basset and made him a go-between, and thus one cold
 
 220 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 morning, a few days after our army occupied the town, 
 the party set out in two coaches, carrying also some per 
 sonal effects, and travelling rapidly across the town, went 
 by ferry to Winniset, whence we could journey with 
 more leisure, since here there was less chance of a col 
 lision between Sir Anthony and any of our army. He 
 travelled with the curtains of his coach drawn close, 
 being too ill with gout and rage to sit upright, and hav 
 ing with him a fair number of bottles of usquebaugh, 
 black cherry brandy, and sack, although charged by the 
 physician in Boston to drink only water. But Sir 
 Anthony declared this to be the advice of " a dried up 
 Whig," and proceeded to follow his own inclinations. 
 Poor Lady Talbot was, as usual, his attendant, while 
 Joyce and her woman occupied the last coach with two 
 of the servants. Basset sat with the coachman on the 
 top of Sir Anthony's carriage, and I was on horse 
 back, leading the procession. I forbore to ride beside 
 the carriages, being minded to let my sweetheart see 
 that I could forego the sight of her averted face. A 
 strange caravan it was, and attracted much curiosity 
 from the rustics, who cheered heartily at the sight of a 
 Provincial officer, not knowing that here were two coach 
 loads of Tories, and that I was their voluntary protector. 
 Love leads us in strange places, truly, and I was more 
 than half amused at the gaping reverence of roadside 
 loiterers, thinking all the while of Sir Anthony behind 
 the curtains, breathing fire and destruction to their 
 cause but yet impotent as any child, in his fury. 
 
 The promise of the spring was with us, and the buds 
 were swelling on the trees. As I rode along, I saw upon 
 a sunny slope on the edge of the woodland a nodding 
 group of blue squirrel-cups showing above the dead 
 leaves of the autumn, and lo, beside me the soft note of
 
 ROYALIST AND REBEL. 221 
 
 a bluebird ! Still in the hollows lay the white drifts, the 
 fragments of the tattered robe of winter, not yet 
 destroyed by the warmer shafts of sunlight. All my 
 hopes and fancies kindled as I rode ; it seemed scarcely 
 a day for lovers to find a cause for difference. The 
 next pale flower that I discovered made me dismount to 
 pluck it ; then, springing in the saddle, I went back to 
 the window of that last coach and presented it with a 
 grave salute. Joyce took it from me with the manner of 
 a queen, gravely courteous as I had been, but I saw a 
 telltale blush creep up to her hair. For a while, after 
 this, I rode beside the carriage, though I never turned 
 my head toward it, but looked between my horse's ears, 
 conscious, all the time, that a pair of blue eyes watched 
 me furtively within the shadow of the coach. Thus 
 we played at being enemies. Meanwhile Sir Anthony 
 was unusually quiet, and we travelled on without mis 
 hap, stopping at noon to bait our horses. 
 
 As the day progressed and we approached Lynn, I 
 grew more and more perplexed. I greatly desired to 
 offer them the hospitality of my father's house, and knew 
 that it would be his wish, for we had never acknowledged 
 any grievance against them. Yet I scarcely felt at 
 liberty to propose it, although it seemed but poor 
 kindness to let them push on to Marblehead. A long 
 and weary journey for a sick man, and tiresome for all. 
 But I knew not how to broach the subject ; to Joyce I 
 could speak, but I had not forgiven yet her defiance, 
 and was willing to assume an indifference that I did not 
 feel. To approach Sir Anthony would be to rouse the 
 tempest, yet his consent was essential to the scheme. 
 I determined to brave the lion in his den, and after the 
 noon rest was over rode up to the carriage and ad 
 dressed Lady Talbot, who was looking through a narrow
 
 222 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 opening in her curtained window. I told her briefly 
 that the continuous journey to Marblehead seemed to 
 me too tedious for them, and I prayed her to accept 
 the hospitality of my father's house, where she would 
 find only my Aunt Dorcas. She glanced at me as if 
 affrighted at my boldness, and murmured a faint-hearted 
 refusal, but Sir Anthony's deep voice cut her short. I 
 could not see his face, but I could fancy its expression 
 from the suppressed ire of his tones. 
 
 " Tell the young gentleman that we thank him, 
 madam," he said harshly, "but the king's loyal sub 
 jects cannot eat a rebel's bread." 
 
 " For shame, Sir Anthony," his wife cried with 
 unusual spirit, " we owe much to Mr. Allen ; it is un 
 grateful and indecent to heap such reproaches upon 
 him." 
 
 " Be not fretted, dear Lady Talbot," I replied with 
 dignity; " I can endure much from Sir Anthony, for old 
 friendship's sake, and yet forbear." 
 
 " Ay ! " retorted his voice, sharply, " an old dog's 
 bark is more troublesome than his bite, and you can 
 afford to scorn it." 
 
 " I can afford not to listen to it," I replied gravely, 
 and rode on in front ; having discharged my conscience 
 of its uneasiness, I could put the matter from my mind 
 without regret. 
 
 Sir Anthony's violence no longer stirred my blood 
 with anger as at first ; I had faced the realities of war, 
 and the idle bluster of his evil temper disturbed me not 
 at all. It is true that I had nursed a faint hope of see 
 ing Joyce once more beneath my own roof, but now I 
 recognized the folly of such a dream, and set my face 
 steadily toward my duty. Thus we continued in solemn 
 procession until we entered Lynn, where we halted at
 
 ROYALIST AND REBEL. 22$ 
 
 the public house for some refreshment. Sir Anthony 
 and his party remained in the carriages ; they had no 
 inclination to enter the inn, and I had no desire that 
 they should, knowing the inevitable result. Indeed, I 
 endeavored to conceal the fact that they were Tories, 
 so high was the popular feeling against those who up 
 held the king. 1 dismounted myself, and mingled freely 
 with the rustic loungers in the tavern, hearing much talk 
 of the glorious victory at Boston and many curses against 
 the Philistines. The greater number of the men were 
 themselves enlisted militia, only the old and the crippled 
 being willing to remain behind in this great struggle. 
 The landlord, a large and florid person with a long 
 tongue, told me much of the occurrences in all the 
 neighboring districts, relating with unction the story 
 of the capture of the British vessels that had been 
 brought into Salem and to Beverly during the winter. 
 The whole coast had been roused to great joy over our 
 victories at sea ; these simple folks who lived beside the 
 ocean gave the greatest honor to a sailor's conquest. 
 They had cause enough, too, for exultation, since early 
 in this very month the Yankee Hero had captured a fine 
 brig, and Captain Manly had also seized two other ships. 
 Poorly equipped for warfare on the water, as we were, 
 we had no cause to be ashamed of our record. These 
 people were eager to dislodge the British fleet from 
 Nantasket Roads; they felt it both an insult and a 
 threat while it lay so near us, and as simple folks are 
 ever they were eager to accomplish the most difficult 
 matters with great haste, recognizing not the obstacles 
 that were patent enough to other eyes. What I noted, 
 too, was that the country people were already prepared 
 to accept our independence ; this was much talked of in 
 the army, but I had scarcely thought to find so forward a
 
 224 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 spirit here. The tidings that an officer of the Continen 
 tal army was at the inn brought together a concourse of 
 spectators, and I was soon embarrassed to find myself 
 the center of a crowd of gaping yeomen, while the rosy 
 faces of the country maids peeped in at the doors. 
 They were gathered to do me honor, and so simple- 
 hearted was their curiosity that I had not the heart to 
 offend them, and answered their eager questions with all 
 the patience that I could command. But in the midst 
 of this scene I heard a confusign of tongues without, 
 and, warned by previous experience what to expect, 
 pushed my way to the door and looked out upon the 
 street. I was none too soon, and strange enough was 
 the picture which met my eyes. Some of the worthies 
 of the town were gathered beside Sir Anthony's carriage, 
 calmly directing the men who were engaged in taking 
 out the horses, in spite of Basset's furious remonstrance. 
 In the window was Sir Anthony's red face, his hat 
 planted defiantly over his eyes, and his expression one 
 of scorn as he watched the proceedings with open bel 
 ligerence. The crowd about the door of the tavern was 
 now too "thick for Basset to reach me, but as I appeared 
 upon the step he made wild signals for help. At the 
 moment Sir Anthony was silent, and the bystanders re 
 garded him with the cold composure of New England 
 men who are determined upon their course. The sud 
 den quiet permitted my voice to be heard, and I called 
 out to them to forbear, that these persons were under 
 my charge. At this, the foremost of the group by the 
 carriage a tall, thin man who seemed of some import 
 ance by his garb and manner turned upon me some 
 what sharply. 
 
 " I do not know you, sir,*' he said in a dry tone, 
 " but by your dress I take you for one of our army, in
 
 ROYALIST AND REBEL. 22$ 
 
 which case you have fallen into evil company. We find 
 this person here a most pestiferous Tory, and with a 
 tongue too profane and evil for godly company." 
 
 "The devil fly away with me, if I ever sought the 
 company of such a bald-faced, hypocritical rascal as 
 thou art ! " retorted Sir Anthony, with withering scorn. 
 
 " The sword of the Lord and of Gideon shall smite all 
 such, and they shall be altogether confounded and cast 
 into the pit," replied the other, in a deep voice ; and I 
 perceived by his tone and manner that he was a minister. 
 
 " Pshaw ! " rejoined Sir Anthony, violently angry now, 
 " the pit will be too full of such Yankee hypocrites as 
 thou and thy friends for an honest man to fall into it, 
 even by chance. The sword of Gideon was never yet 
 in the hands of a white-livered, long-eared knave like 
 thee ! " 
 
 " Blaspheme not, old man," replied the minister, in a 
 deep voice ; " you are full of years and of venom, and 
 the hour of your reckoning is at hand." 
 
 " Oh, go to the devil ! " exclaimed the old Tory, over 
 come with disgust and wrath. 
 
 " Evil is the end of such an one," began his opponent, 
 gratified at the eager attention of his audience, which 
 doubtless wandered on the Sabbath ; but here I cut 
 short his discourse, having pushed my way to his side. 
 
 " Reverend sir," I said, " I pray your forbearance ; 
 this argument but stirs up evil feeling amidst us, and 
 avails nothing. This gentleman and his family are jour 
 neying to Marblehead under General Washington's 
 orders, and I am here to see that they are not interfered 
 with." 
 
 At this, there was much eager remonstrance. It ap 
 peared that they had determined to send Sir Anthony to 
 the Committee of Safety, believing him to be a danger- 
 
 '5
 
 226 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 ous person, and they had no wish to let their captive 
 so easily evade them. They even began to look upon 
 me with suspicion, as being contaminated by evil com 
 munication. 
 
 " We should be happy, sir," the reverend gentleman 
 remarked with pompous dignity, " to have some evi 
 dence that you are indeed what you appear." 
 
 I took the passports, which had brought us through 
 the lines, from my pocket, and presented them. 
 
 " It will not be difficult to prove my identity," I re 
 marked quietly ; " I am the son of Judge Allen of the 
 Court of Massachusetts Bay." 
 
 At this announcement there was a stir and murmur 
 among the bystanders who recognized the name, though 
 none of my father's friends were now in Lynn. 
 
 " The son of as great a rebel as any of ye," remarked 
 Sir Anthony, with a vicious enjoyment of my situation ; 
 but here his interference was cut short. Lady Talbot 
 dragged the curtains before the window and held them, 
 despite the tirade that went on behind them, like the 
 continuous rumble of a thunder-storm. 
 
 The sight of my papers, however, had an immediate 
 effect. At my first appearance the men had let Basset 
 fasten the horses in their harness again ; and now, at a 
 signal from me, he drove the carriage slowly away, the 
 crowd giving way to let it pass, as though it were infected 
 with a pestilence. 
 
 " We submit to his Excellency's orders," the spokes 
 man said gravely ; " but, young man, I warn you to 
 eschew the company of such a profane and bloody per 
 secutor. * Evil communications corrupt good manners.' 
 It is such blasphemous and evil-minded persons who 
 lead astray the young and destroy the seeds of the gospel 
 of peace."
 
 ROYALIST AND REBEL. 22? 
 
 Happy to escape so easily, I thanked the reverend 
 lecturer for his godly advice, and throwing myself in the 
 saddle, rode off in hot haste, to convoy my dangerous 
 charge and to escape further embarrassments. I 
 breathed more freely when our little cortege was once 
 more upon the open road, with no chance of interference 
 until we reached Salem. There I knew that I could 
 protect them, especially since Sir Anthony was himself 
 well known to the townspeople.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 DEATH KEEPS HIS OWN ACCOUNT. 
 
 IN spite of the untoward delay at Lynn, and Sir An 
 thony's outburst of fury, we entered Salem in good order 
 and with much decency of demeanor. The foremost 
 coach had the appearance of a hearse, with its tightly 
 drawn curtains, but it gave no sign of the volcano smol 
 dering within. I rode beside it, that I might be the 
 better prepared for any exigency, and the other carriage 
 followed at a short distance. 
 
 The sight of the familiar scene was welcome to me, 
 for my childhood's home has ever held a warm place 
 in my heart. I looked eagerly about to assure myself 
 that there was no change, and I found none. There 
 were the bleak and rocky uplands, and the town still 
 bore the aspect of winter, the gray shingled roofs showing 
 weather-beaten in the afternoon sunlight that made red 
 fires on the window-panes, until they looked out of the 
 sober houses like fiery eyes. The salt wind, blowing 
 keenly downward from the Grand Banks, swept the dark 
 blue waters of Massachusetts Bay, and the waves beat 
 fiercely on the wharves. The streets were quiet, as 
 upon the Sabbath ; in truth, all the towns of the province 
 had given of their best and bravest to the army, and 
 this change was plain enough to any watchful eye. As 
 we entered Essex Street, the children there at play, 
 catching sight of my uniform, raised the hue and cry, 
 and soon we had a rabble of little folk close upon our
 
 DEATH KEEPS HIS OWN ACCOUNT. 22$ 
 
 heels, while at the windows appeared the eager faces 
 of matrons and maids. Being so well acquainted, I 
 found myself saluting house after house, as we passed, 
 while the crowd behind gathered strength, as a child's 
 snowball on a winter's day. The stir we made, and 
 these signs, however small, of excitement made me 
 firm in my resolve to make no stop at Salem, but to 
 push on for Marblehead. I dared not risk another scene, 
 and moreover, since Sir Anthony had refused my hos 
 pitality, I was loath to have them linger in the town to 
 cause remark. I contented myself with a glance at the 
 old house, as we passed it, and evading those of my 
 acquaintance who would have stayed me from my pur 
 pose, hurried my charges out of the dear old place and 
 with much ado got them across the ferry. Slowly and 
 laboriously we climbed the hill beyond it and continued 
 upon our journey, and ). was not without uneasiness 
 when I thought of the long drive and of Joyce, already 
 weary with the trials of the siege. The latter end of a 
 day's travel is ever the most tedious, and it seemed 
 long before we came in sight of Marblehead. The 
 town had in winter a bleak and barren aspect ; it ap 
 peared as if the houses were perched upon the sheer 
 side of the cliffs, and the fierce winds swept it, dashing 
 the salt spray upon it, exhausting all their fury, yet pre 
 vailing not against that which had its foundation not 
 on sand, but upon rock. 
 
 The Talbots' house, standing as it did a little above 
 the village, could be approached quietly, and I deter 
 mined to part with the family here, knowing them safe, 
 and having no wish to intrude upon their home-coming. 
 I gave a few brief directions to Basset, and attempting 
 no speech with Lady Talbot, rode back to the second 
 carriage, which halted at a sign from me. Joyce looked
 
 230 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 out eagerly, startled at the unexpected stop, but seeing 
 me, flushed a little, and her eyes sank, resting on the 
 flower in her hand, the same which I had given her. 
 The maids being all eyes and ears, after the manner of 
 servants, I could say but a few words of formal farewell. 
 
 " I leave you now, Miss Talbot," I said gravely, 
 " since my service is no longer required ; but you know 
 where to find me, if any need arises." 
 
 " Nay," she replied with some embarrassment, " you 
 should not ride back at this hour ; both you and your 
 horse must be weary. At least, we may mend your 
 case a little now. You must rest awhile here." 
 
 I smiled, I fear with bitterness. 
 
 " I thank you," I answered quietly; " but I know that 
 I am too unwelcome a guest in Sir Anthony's house to 
 avail myself of the kindness of your offer. May it be 
 well with you until we meet once more." 
 
 At my words, purposely reproachful, the blood rose 
 to her temples and her lips quivered a little. So lovely 
 was she, in her angry confusion, that I could not bear 
 to take my leave, and lingered a moment by the carriage. 
 Then, as she continued silent, I lifted my hat in a grave 
 salute. 
 
 "Farewell," I said gently. 
 
 She raised her eyes to my face, and they were blue 
 as two violets, and I thought a tear shone on her lashes. 
 
 " Farewell, Captain Allen," she replied in a low voice ; 
 " think not too hardly of us we are not as ungrateful 
 as we seem." 
 
 With this we parted, but the glance she gave me set 
 my heart to throbbing as I rode away. Her blue eyes 
 shone before me all the way to Salem. The folly of 
 youth ? It may be, but a marvellous sweet folly it was. 
 I was not as some who have many loves. I had never
 
 DEATH KEEPS HIS OWN ACCOUNT. 231 
 
 but the one, and she made all my life to me ; its sun- 
 shine and its shadows were ever woven about her central 
 figure, and I was content to have it so. 
 
 When I entered Salem again, the sun had set and the 
 glory of the western sky clothed all the landscape 
 in an afterglow. Lights were burning in the old house 
 as I dismounted at the gate, and my aunt had the door 
 open before I reached the portico. Alone and anxious 
 so long, she greeted me with delight, and it was good to 
 enter the great hall, with her hand in mine, and her 
 kind old face beaming its welcome for me. The light 
 of the departing day shone in the great window, that 
 had been the resource of my childhood, and I could see 
 the bare tendrils of the vine that swung before it. In 
 the chimney blazed a fire of logs and driftwood ; the 
 warmth and radiance made the hall a cheerful spot, and 
 the red light flashed upon the breastplate of my Puritan 
 ancestor. The scene was homelike, even to the savory 
 odor of roasted fowl that came from the kitchen ; lover 
 as I was, the ride had sharpened my appetite so that 
 this was not the least welcome part of the whole. I re 
 member how joyfully they waited upon my wants, my 
 aunt and the old maidservant ; the men of the house 
 hold had all gone to the army. The women were so 
 eager for tidings that they scarce gave me time to eat 
 the meal that their care had prepared. My father had 
 not been home for two months, and I was thus the more 
 welcome and honored visitor. 
 
 In the days that followed, I was absorbed with my 
 own matters and had much business to dispatch. Not 
 knowing how soon I should be ordered away, I had the 
 more need to devote myself to our affairs. I was much 
 interrupted, however, and eagerly sought by the towns 
 people who had relatives or friends in the army, and
 
 232 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 were anxious for tidings. I noticed that here, too, as 
 at Boston, the people were inclined toward independ 
 ence ; no longer desiring to reverence the king, who had 
 oppressed us through his ministers. The feeling against 
 his Majesty ran high ; his speech before Parliament had 
 provoked the colonists, and the old tolerance for royal 
 faults was dead. A new spirit was abroad amongst 
 men; already in France the young king, Louis XVI., 
 had to contend with the rising forces of a national oppo 
 sition, and in Europe, as well as in the provinces, men 
 were impatient of the old oppressions ; the effete laws 
 of an age that was dead could no longer serve to fetter 
 the limbs of freemen. In England there were con 
 servative minds to recognize the dangers of the doctrine 
 which desired to destroy American freedom ; had the 
 Ministerialists succeeded, the liberties of England would 
 also have been subverted. The mother country could 
 not afford to cripple and destroy her child. The re 
 action of her cruelty would have been her own ruin. 
 
 The Province of Massachusetts Bay had ever been 
 foremost in the struggle ; so far she, and she alone, had 
 borne the pain and privation of the conflict ; therefore 
 it was natural that she should look eagerly for the fulfil 
 ment of her liberty. The flag of England waved no 
 more above the Custom House at Salem, and the king's 
 arms had been removed from all public places; at 
 Marblehead they had been torn down from above the 
 altar of Saint Michael's. To this day, you may see the 
 place in the old church where his Majesty's arms were 
 set before the people ; no fit spot, either, for the symbol 
 of an earthly ruler. The stern purpose of the nation 
 was aroused, and men were ready to lay down their lives 
 for their liberty. Our enemies did greatly err in that 
 they esteemed too little the courage and the strength of
 
 DEATH KEEPS HIS OWN ACCOUNT. 233 
 
 the colonists. It is not ever men to whom war is a pro 
 fession who make the noblest battle, rather those who 
 defend their country and their homes, and feel their 
 cause is that of justice and of honor. The French and 
 Indian wars had been a school in which our men had 
 learned to fight, though they were yet simple rustics, 
 being slow to learn the vices that are the soldier's ruin. 
 The.re is no greater spur to valor than the knowledge 
 that your right arm is the defence of all you hold most 
 dear and sacred. The honest yeomen, whom the 
 British regulars affected to despise, were the greatest 
 strength of the colonies. He who hath the most to 
 lose will surely make the hottest fight. 
 
 Knowing that Joyce was safe under her own roof, for 
 the good people of Marblehead forbore to taunt a van 
 quished foe, I did not intrude upon the household. 
 Her words, and most of all her glance, at parting had 
 aroused the hopes that her perversity cast down, yet I 
 was willing to let her feel that I would not thrust myself 
 upon her. The rebel, as she was pleased to call me, 
 had pride enough to remain absent. I was the more 
 startled, therefore, to receive one day the tidings of 
 Sir Anthony's death. He had been stricken with apo 
 plexy in the midst of one of his violent outbursts of 
 temper, and died almost immediately. The announce 
 ment shocked me, and I felt both pain and pity for the 
 turbulent old man who had come to his end in so un 
 seemly a manner. In the old days, before our unhappy 
 differences, there had been much kindness between us, 
 and I remembered only the better part. It seemed, too, 
 the more pitiful because his petulant violence had made 
 so much unhappiness in the household that there would 
 be but few tears shed. Death is the more painful when 
 it brings but little natural sorrow. Coming as it did
 
 234 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 when old friends and neighbors were estranged by the 
 fierceness of the dead man's quarrel, it was the more 
 difficult for the two women. Dick had gone with the 
 fleet to Halifax ; ten days after the evacuation of Boston, 
 General Howe left Nantasket Roads with the greater 
 portion of the ships, though enough remained to annoy 
 the people of the province. I felt that the hour had 
 come when I was once more needed, and went at once 
 to Marblehead ; arriving none too soon, for Lady Talbot 
 and Joyce were in sore perplexity, with no friendly hand 
 to aid them. But at my coming all this was swiftly 
 altered ; many of the neighbors had held aloof, rather 
 from the fear of intruding than from any evil feeling, 
 and at my reproaches quickly came to do their part. 
 The old Tory, so fierce in his hatred of his Whig country 
 men, was carried to his last rest by these very rebels. 
 We took his body to Salem, and laid it in the Charter 
 Street burial-ground, and only Joyce and her mother 
 were there, for Dick Sir Richard now could not 
 come to them. 
 
 When it was over, I endeavored, and so also did 
 Aunt Dorcas, to persuade Lady Talbot and Joyce to 
 rest that night with us ; but, remembering no doubt 
 Sir Anthony's feeling, they steadily refused, and we 
 drove back to Marblehead. When I helped them from 
 the carriage, both mother and daughter bade me enter, 
 and after an instant of hesitation I obeyed, because I 
 longed for one word with Joyce. And before I went 
 away, I found my opportunity. We were alone in the 
 library, where a fire burned upon the hearth, its glow 
 making the room cheerful despite the rainy day. Joyce 
 stood before the hearth, her figure looking slender in 
 deed in her black gown, and her face quite pale. She 
 was weary, I thought, with all the trouble and the strain,
 
 DEATH KEEPS HIS OWN ACCOUNT. 235 
 
 and I noticed the soft shadows under her wonderful 
 eyes. I had bidden Lady Talbot farewell and stood 
 before Joyce now, hat in hand, ready to depart. Both 
 of us were silent, and in the pause we heard the rain 
 driven fiercely against the window-pane. It was she 
 who broke the silence with a glance of half-timid 
 gratitude. 
 
 " We have again cause to thank you," she said gently; 
 " you are more kind than we deserve, but, believe me, 
 we are not unmindful of our obligations." 
 
 " Obligations ! " I exclaimed. " That which we do for 
 love confers no obligation ; the word is odious. I ask 
 no thanks, save only that you will think more kindly 
 of 'the rebel.' " 
 
 Her cheek flushed at my reproach, and she kept her 
 eyes upon the fire. 
 
 " I fear I think too kindly of him," she said softly. 
 
 In an instant I had her hand in mine, and though it 
 fluttered a little in my clasp at first, she did not with 
 draw it, but turned her head so that I saw only the rosy 
 cheek and little ear and the soft tresses of her brown 
 hair. 
 
 " Joyce," I whispered, " torment me no longer is 
 it possible that you love me still? One moment, I 
 believe it the next, your unkindness drives me from 
 your side. I am a dull fellow, Joyce, I cannot read 
 your moods ; it seems to me that if you loved me as I 
 have ever loved you, you could not but tell me so ! " 
 
 She turned and looked up at me a moment, and I 
 saw a flash of some quick thought in her eyes. 
 
 " Yes," she said in a demure and quiet voice, " you 
 are very dull, Captain Allen." 
 
 " I know it," I said with feeling ; " I have only wit 
 enough to love you well."
 
 236 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " So you used to tell me when we were children," 
 she replied in the same meek voice. 
 
 Tormented by her mood, I caught her suddenly in 
 my arms and kissed her. For an instant I thought she 
 clung to me, and then she struggled to be free, her eyes 
 shining, and a deeper color in her cheeks. 
 
 " Let me go, Captain Allen," she said quickly, but not 
 unkindly, " you forget that I am a Tory. Are these 
 rebel manners? " 
 
 Yet I thought that, but for the sadness of the hour, 
 she would have smiled. I released her, but kept her 
 hand in mine a moment longer. 
 
 " Joyce," I cried earnestly, " I will not let you 
 go ! " 
 
 " Nay," she said demurely, " there comes the servant 
 to tell you that the carriage is ready to take you away. 
 Farewell, sir, and study to learn more courtly manners, 
 even though you be in a rebel camp." 
 
 It was true that there were steps in the hall, and I 
 knew that I had but the moment. I kissed her hand, 
 not once but many times. 
 
 " Farewell," I whispered, " we will meet soon soon 
 again ! " 
 
 She gave me a strange look, and, with a swift move 
 ment, put her arms around my neck and kissed me 
 once, then turned and fled out at one door as her 
 mother and the servant came to the other to tell me 
 that, if I must go, the carriage waited my pleasure. I 
 had told them I was in haste and had asked to be so 
 warned, but now I was sorry for my own deed and went 
 with great reluctance. 
 
 I know not how I passed the night or the next morn 
 ing; doubtless I performed the ordinary duties of the 
 day, but I thought through it all that the end of the
 
 DEATH KEEPS HIS OWN ACCOUNT. 237 
 
 trouble between us seemed at hand, for surely she 
 loved me still. 
 
 In the afternoon I crossed the ferry, and so blind was 
 I that I noted no change in the old house when I drew 
 rein before it and sprang from the saddle. Three times 
 1 made the knocker ring upon the door, and the silence 
 of the place awoke a keen alarm within my heart. I 
 went around it, and tried the rear door toward the 
 orchard, but in vain. Then from the stables I saw an 
 old man emerging, whom they employed to keep the 
 place tidy in their absence. I plied him with such 
 sharp questions that he seemed for the moment too 
 bewildered to answer any of them. But at last he 
 found his tongue, and told me that he had been left, as 
 usual, in charge. The family had gone away suddenly 
 in the night, whither he knew not, or he would not tell, 
 and though I pressed him close I could draw nothing 
 from him save that he believed that " Master Dick " had 
 come in disguise the evening before. Some one had 
 come secretly, and they, Lady Talbot and Joyce, being 
 prepared, had gone away together in the carriage. 
 Little by little, I learned that he suspected that they 
 went to join the British ships at Nantasket, and, it might 
 be, were bound for Halifax. More I could not get, 
 and so was forced to leave him and return as I had 
 come, but in a vastly different mood. 
 
 Gone fled from me and without a word ! Ah, yes, 
 a rebel might not share their counsels, yet surely she 
 could trust me. At the first, my heart was full of bitter 
 reproaches, then I remembered her glance at me when 
 I bade her farewell, with the assurance that we would 
 meet so soon again. It was this, then, that had prompted 
 her to so relent, the thought of separation, and for this 
 had she kissed me. And she was gone gone to be
 
 238 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 with her brother and the men against whom I must 
 fight, gone to cast her lot with my enemies ; but she had 
 loved me well enough to regret the parting, and that 
 one kiss robbed this new slight of half its sting. Though 
 disappointed and cast down, yet never for a moment 
 did I dream of giving her up. Fate had parted us, not 
 her will; I believed that, and I would overcome even 
 my fate. My nature was stubborn ever, though so slow.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 I JOURNEY SOUTHWARD. 
 
 I WAS in Salem on furlough through April and May, 
 and rejoiced at the opportunity to remain ; I had a 
 large share of the New Englander's love of home, and 
 camp life appealed less to me than to other men. 
 Moreover I felt keenly the enormous uncertainty of our 
 struggle, and knew that war might yet lay waste these 
 lovely places. Tidings came to us constantly of the 
 preparations which England had made against us, and 
 a part of her fleet lay still at Nantasket Roads. The 
 thought of a surrender of our just rights and sacred liber 
 ties came never to our hearts, but the bravest recognized 
 the magnitude of the struggle and our own great weak 
 ness. Our poverty and our lack of ammunition, otir 
 poorly organized army, nothing more than bands of yeo 
 men, were to be arrayed against the flower of England's 
 army reinforced by a horde of German hirelings and 
 savages. Ay, the king had hired Hessians to slay his 
 own subjects, so they told us, and so we came to know, 
 to our sorrow and his eternal shame. 
 
 My stay at Salem was a busy time, and in the nine 
 weeks of it I happily settled many troublesome matters 
 and quieted and comforted a little my aunt, whose so 
 journ in the old home was tedious and lonely enough in 
 the absence of her brother. I was made much of by 
 the women folks, being a soldier and soon to go out to 
 fight again. They have a great admiration for any quality
 
 240 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 which they mistake for courage in a man, and doubtless 
 I could have found comfort for my hurt at the hands of 
 Joyce, had I chosen, but I never greatly considered 
 other women, being by nature steadfast and seeing no 
 one who ever, in my eyes, compared with her, either in 
 beauty or in spirit. Verily, I believe that I loved her 
 the better because that she quarrelled with me ; the 
 fairest roses have ever the longest thorns, and a woman 
 who has no touch of spirit is but a poor creature. 
 
 Before I went away, my father came to Salem, and for 
 a few days we had the happiness of being once more 
 together. His life was now one constant stretch of pub 
 lic service, and he could remain but a short while, being 
 required at Philadelphia. He had been to the Quaker 
 city while General Washington was there, as President 
 Hancock's guest, in April, and my father was more and 
 more impressed with the simplicity and strength of char 
 acter of our commander-in-chief. Though often assailed 
 by jealousy, his Excellency grew daily stronger in the 
 affection and esteem of the army. Some there were who 
 found him cold ; I myself had felt his displeasure : but 
 to the greater number of us he seemed most happily 
 fitted for his high duties. That he was unselfish and 
 devoted was patent even to those who were envious of 
 his hold upon the people. Some yet doubted his mili 
 tary skill, believing more in General Charles Lee, who, I 
 think, desired always to fan the flame of discontent ; but 
 we were among those who believed that our general 
 would yet convince the doubting of his military genius. 
 
 The state of affairs in New York, my father told me, 
 was most delicate. Many of the people about Man 
 hattan and Staten Island were most notorious Tories, 
 and in constant communication with Governor Tryon, 
 who was on board a ship-of-war below Staten Island.
 
 I JOURNEY SOUTHWARD. 241 
 
 The royal mayor, Whitehead Hicks, had resigned his 
 office to become a justice of the Supreme Court, and he 
 had been succeeded by one David Matthews, also a hot 
 royalist. Thus the Tories found encouragement on 
 every hand, and were the more inflated by the tidings 
 that the king's fleet would presently come down from 
 Halifax. General Putnam had been in New York since 
 the first of April, and spared neither time nor labor to 
 strengthen the fortifications ; but it was a grave matter, 
 since the city could be approached on both sides by 
 large ships, and we were without means to destroy 
 them. In the heart of the province, too, was the fes 
 ter of Indian trouble ; the Johnsons were dealing con 
 stantly with the Mohawks, and there were rumors that 
 King George was concluding an alliance with the Six 
 Nations against us. In the event of the arrival of the 
 king's forces, the Tories would surely hatch some fresh 
 trouble. Then there remained ever the old difficulty of 
 short enlistments and militia eager to return homeward. 
 Verily, the liberty of the United Colonies was in peril, 
 and we had no hope save in the Lord of Hosts, to 
 whom we did most fervently and constantly commend 
 our cause. 
 
 It was but two days before I left Salem that my 
 father received tidings from an old acquaintance at 
 Halifax. The letter came safely its long, slow journey, 
 and told us much of the British fleet and the prepara 
 tions to destroy the patriots. The expedition, so said 
 the missive, would be directed against New York, and 
 Lord Howe, General Howe's sailor brother, was to 
 bring large reinforcements; coming armed with full 
 powers to deal with the " rebels." From this letter too 
 we learned that which concerned me more especially, 
 the destination of the Talbots. The writer, a careful 
 
 16
 
 242 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 and observant old man, made mention of all the Tory 
 families with the fleet, whose names he could discover. 
 He spoke therefore of the late coming of Lady Talbot 
 and her young daughter, and then told in detail of a 
 duel between Dick and a young officer of Mr. Howe's 
 staff, which had caused great offence in high quarters. 
 Dick was the aggressor and also the victor, his opponent 
 barely escaping with his life, and General Howe had 
 visited his displeasure upon the hot-tempered young 
 offender, the whole affair causing some scandal and 
 leaving Richard Talbot under a cloud. At this my 
 father shook his head with a grave smile. 
 
 " His father's temper," he said, with a deprecating 
 glance at me, "and he will not easily forgive the slight 
 that Mr. Howe has put upon him before the army. I 
 fear me, Dick is like to be in yet greater trouble before 
 the end of it is seen." 
 
 " Ay," I responded thoughtfully, " and he is the less 
 fitted to be a guardian for his mother and sister. What 
 madness prompted Lady Talbot to leave the safe 
 shelter of her home at Marblehead to follow the fortunes 
 of the army?" 
 
 " No madness," quoth my father. " but a mother's 
 heart; her trust in her son is doubtless equal to her 
 love for him. Moreover, the good woman has been 
 half her life beneath the rule of Sir Anthony, and she 
 cannot guide herself. A woman who has been the 
 subject of a tyrant is, when she loses him, like a ship 
 without a pilot, and must needs founder in the sea unless 
 another master takes the helm. I have seen such cases 
 often ; it is like the child of a stern parent who has no 
 will, and escaping from the rigid control of its infancy 
 runs riot in new freedom or is pushed into another 
 bondage. Our natures are like clay in the potter's
 
 I JOURNEY SOUTHWARD. 243 
 
 hands ; the first touches shape us, either to strength or 
 weakness." 
 
 "Lady Talbot has always had my pity," I returned, 
 " as well as my respect for her long endurance, though 
 I have never yet seen her reason for marrying as she 
 did." 
 
 " I knew her in my young days," replied my father, 
 " when I visited England, more frequently than we are 
 like to visit it again. Lady Talbot was Elizabeth Lyle, 
 the daughter of an impoverished nobleman, and one of 
 seven sisters. She was not young when she married Sir 
 Arfthony ; it had seemed that she might be a penniless 
 spinster. Belike, she looked upon her florid, loud- 
 voiced suitor as a blessed opportunity to escape from 
 poverty. She was a pretty woman, with bright hair and 
 pink cheeks, when they were wedded. But twenty-five 
 years of slavery tell upon both soul and body. She 
 faded very quickly, her voice growing softer as his grew 
 more boisterous, and her cheeks paling as his empurpled 
 with high living. Verily, son John, some women live 
 the lives of martyrs without the crown. I doubt not 
 that her life has been one of great and painful trial. 
 Happily, both her children inherited her beauty, though I 
 fear me that both have a touch of their father's spirit." 
 
 At this I smiled, and my father, seeing that I took the 
 remark in good part, laughed softly. 
 
 " It is better so," I said cheerfully, " since they will 
 never need to walk in their mother's gentle footsteps." 
 
 " Happily not," he replied, " and we will presently 
 hear of Dick's discontent ; I only fear that his hot 
 blood may get him in yet greater trouble, and I would 
 be grieved to see any harm come to the lad." 
 
 " I trust that he may be able to take care of his 
 mother and his sister," I replied gravely.
 
 244 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " For that I have no thought," my father rejoined, 
 " since Lady Talbot and Joyce will make their own 
 friends, and Mr. Howe knows their position and their 
 worth." 
 
 " And her beauty ! " I added bitterly to myself, 
 thinking of Beresford and all the other gay young offi 
 cers who in their enforced idleness had the greater 
 opportunity to gain a woman's heart. Love finds ever 
 some means to prick a sore heart, and yet did I re 
 proach myself as a mean and jealous fellow to have so 
 little trust in the affection she had shown for me so 
 lately. 
 
 On the first of June I received my orders to rejoin 
 my regiment at New York, and left Salem immediately, 
 my father remaining yet a few days at home. I was 
 the more sorry to go at that time, because an expe 
 dition was being planned against the British fleet at 
 Nantasket. It consisted now of eight ships, two snows, 
 two brigs, and one schooner ; the whole commanded by 
 Commodore Banks. There were many Highlanders on 
 board the vessels, and the array was formidable, so that 
 the prospect of a skirmish with them was not without 
 its own excitement. But my orders debarred me of 
 the honor of being one of the party that finally drove 
 them to sea on the fourteenth day of the month, being 
 the anniversary of the day set by the British Parliament 
 as the last on which trading vessels should leave or 
 enter the port of Boston. Thus did Massachusetts Bay 
 confound and scatter her enemies. 
 
 Meanwhile I had rested but one night in Boston and 
 ridden on southward with what speed I could. But as 
 I neared the Hudson, I was forced to change my route, 
 being warned that the road was full of Tories and horse- 
 s,tealers ; so I crossed the river at Continental Ferry, be-
 
 I JOURNEY SOUTHWARD. 24$ 
 
 low Fishkill, and got my dinner at a tavern some ten 
 miles farther on. Here I found some worthless fellows 
 and a number of our soldiers, drinking and idling their 
 time away, for which I rebuked them sharply, to their 
 great displeasure. So ill did it set upon their stomachs 
 that one of them retaliated by stealing one of my pistols 
 from me. But this I recovered again in a very simple 
 manner. Missing it from my holster, in the morning, 
 when the whole party of them were at breakfast, I stood 
 upon a bench and addressed them. I told them that 
 there were Tories amongst them which I doubt not 
 was true, though I said it but to serve my purpose 
 and, I added, it behooved them to discover these secret 
 enemies of the commonwealth and to apprehend them. 
 Then several of them asked loudly for my reasons for 
 this suspicion. I replied promptly that some thievish 
 knave had stolen my pistol, that we had no thieves in 
 the Continental army, which was a lie, but gained my 
 ends, and therefore it was plain that there was a Tory 
 in their midst. As I anticipated, this created no little 
 uproar, and they began to accuse one another ; but it 
 was not until I was mounting that a sheepish-faced 
 rustic brought me my weapon, saying that it had been 
 found upon the stairs. This being a falsehood, I told 
 him so flatly, but added that I forgave him, since he 
 had the conscience to return it. I rode away, leaving 
 confusion behind me, for which I rejoiced, for I looked 
 upon these places as but centers where the Tory poison 
 crept into our ranks, the devil finding mischief ever 
 for idle hands to do. 
 
 From this spot, my journey was yet more rapid. I 
 rode down by the Hudson, in the midst of that wild and 
 beautiful country now blossoming with all the sweetness 
 and the beauty of the early summer ; the wild grandeur
 
 246 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 of the Highlands contrasting with the spreading loveli 
 ness of the lowlands, as the prospect opened toward the 
 Tappan Zee. Yet here was like to be the seat of war, 
 and already our troops were fortifying its exposed points, 
 and all things were to be made in readiness for the evifr 
 hour when the enemy would endeavor to force the war 
 ships into these lovely waters. I paused only for much- 
 needed rest, and lingered not even to inspect our posts, 
 for I was eager to be at the center of the struggle. 
 
 It was in the twilight of a soft summer evening that 
 I approached New York. I rode down from Kings- 
 bridge to the Bloomingdale road, and so entered the 
 city, my appearance attracting but little notice, as the 
 streets were full of soldiers and the inhabitants all alert 
 at the preparations to resist the attacks of the British. 
 From the windows of the houses many fair faces looked 
 down upon the groups in the street, where were gathered 
 officers in blue and buff, and more soberly arrayed 
 citizens talking together beneath the green foliage of 
 the trees that lined either side of the road. On every 
 hand were signs of intrenchment ; streets were barri 
 caded with mahogany logs, taken from the West India 
 cargoes ; at Saint Paul's Church, Broadway was barri 
 caded, and as I rode, I caught glimpses of such ob 
 structions upon other streets. Once or twice I saw a 
 familiar face, but for the most part only strangers, and 
 felt the more lonely in the crowded thoroughfare. I went 
 on therefore, as rapidly as I could, down Broadway to 
 Broad Street, where I stopped at Fraunces' Tavern near 
 Whitehall Slip, and left my horse, going on foot to re 
 port to General Putnam, where he was quartered at the 
 Kennedy house on Broadway. Here I found a com 
 pany of officers of Massachusetts Bay and Connecticut, 
 and passed the evening pleasantly amidst old acquaint-
 
 I JOURNEY SOUTHWARD. 247 
 
 ance, and was later assigned my own duties for the 
 ensuing weeks. That night, too, I learned much of 
 the eager anticipation of the enemy's arrival, and of 
 the watchfulness that was required, since New York was 
 full of Tories, and both Staten Island and Long Island 
 swarmed with them. Governor Tryon, still on the 
 Duchess, kept up a constant correspondence with these 
 malcontents, and would doubtless stir them up to some 
 deed that would work our undoing, if possible. The 
 patriots had hanged Tryon in effigy ; but this was, after 
 all, but little hurt to the stout royalist, nor did the king's 
 cause suffer by it. Verily, we were beset both by open 
 foes and secret enemies, and might well find the knife 
 at our own bosoms.
 
 CHAFFER XXXI. 
 
 DOROTHY WAYNE. 
 
 I FOUND the town much changed since I had seen it 
 last. Many of the Tories had fled at the approach of our 
 army, and vacant houses were numerous in the better 
 quarters. Social intercourse was therefore restricted to 
 the wives and daughters of the officers and of Whigs, who 
 clustered about Mrs. Washington at the Richmond Hill 
 house, where his Excellency had established his head 
 quarters. Even this little group felt the depression of 
 sharp military rule ; the town was governed like a camp, 
 and no one might pass a sentry without the countersign. 
 They lived, too, in fearful anticipation, none being so 
 blind as not to see our weakness and the enemy's 
 gathering strength. Yet these women were brave spirits, 
 and bore the anxiety and discouragement with a cheerful 
 demeanor. It was at Richmond Hill that I first met 
 Miss Dorothy Wayne, and being much together that 
 evening, we fell to talking of our families, and I found 
 that she was my kinswoman upon my mother's side. So 
 it was that a firm friendship was established between us, 
 and from that time her kindness came into my life ; she 
 was, of all women, the most gentle and tender that I have 
 ever known. She was an orphan, living with her grand 
 parents in New York, but she was not like them, nor was 
 she like any other woman I have seen. Her mother had 
 been a Quaker, and this sect was yet looked upon some 
 what askance in New England, where, to our shame, we
 
 DOROTHY WAYNE. 249 
 
 used to persecute them. It was, perhaps, the Quaker 
 training that made her so different from the rest, though 
 she was herself no Quaker, but of the Church of England. 
 Though not beautiful, she was fair to look upon, tall and 
 slender, with a pale face and soft brown hair and eyes of 
 that clear brown in which you see the shadows and the 
 sunshine. When I first saw her, in her soft white gown 
 with the white kerchief folded on her bosom and a white 
 rose in her powdered hair, so different frpm the gay 
 brocades and jewelled necks about her, I was reminded 
 of a tall white lily, and it is thus that I think of her 
 ever. We became fast friends, and I was bidden often 
 to her grandfather's house. He was at heart, I fancy, 
 more a Tory than a Whig, but desired to live at peace 
 with all men, being an old man, past eighty-five, and 
 having no sons to take part in the conflict. He and his 
 old wife were much respected, nor did I ever hear ill 
 of them from either side, and their hospitality was both 
 cheerful and unfailing. In this house I became as one 
 of the family, and found much comfort in their friend 
 ship ; by mutual consent, we spoke not of politics, and 
 each respected the other's convictions. Dorothy was a 
 patriot, quick to champion her country's cause ; and the 
 old people gainsaid her in nothing, but only smiled and 
 listened. This quiet household was my chief refuge, for 
 without there was plenty of stir and little rest for any 
 officer or soldier. 
 
 The work of fortifying went steadily forward, though 
 we all knew that to hold the city was but a forlorn hope. 
 Our force was scattered over New York, Staten Island, 
 and Long fsland, and in the Jerseys, and altogether com 
 prised scarce ten thousand effective men. Some of these 
 were near the end of their terms of enlistment and eager 
 to be back in the fields, while the new recruits were with-
 
 25O A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 out arms, neither did we know where to find them either 
 weapons or ammunition. Yet all that might be done 
 was done, and General Washington labored with untiring 
 zeal ; we who saw him thus, facing discouragement and 
 peril, grew to love and honor him the more for his high 
 courage and unselfish patriotism. He took a firmer 
 hold upon his soldiers' hearts each day and hour of that 
 long struggle, and none failed to reverence him save 
 those mean natures that were envious of a greatness far 
 above their reach. 
 
 Great was the stir, in those days, in the town ; while 
 without, at Lispenard's and Jones' hills, forts were being 
 constructed. Batteries had been placed on both sides 
 of the East River and at Catherine Street ; another was 
 in a cellar, at the foot of Wall Street, on Coenties Slip. 
 Along the New Jersey and Long Island coasts a little 
 fleet of schooners, sloops, row-galleys, and whaleboats, 
 under Benjamin Tupper, kept up a continual watch, not 
 only for open, but for secret foes. It was said that the 
 Tories were concealed in woods and swamps, awaiting 
 the landing of the British troops, and many, we knew, 
 lived openly at Staten Island. The correspondence 
 between these plotters and Governor Tryon went on 
 despite the sharp orders that no one should hold com 
 munication with the enemy's ships. The Committee 
 of Conspiracy had assembled in the middle of May and 
 was still sitting, but the pestilent rascals evaded even 
 their vigilance; while those of the better sort defied 
 them. 
 
 The streets, as I have said, were full of our soldiers, 
 but they were for the most part simple rustics and had 
 none of the vices of the regulars, though a great jealousy 
 springing up between the regiments made much ill feel 
 ing. The poorly clad were scorned by those in better garb,
 
 DOROTHY WAYNE. 25 I 
 
 causing heart-burnings and malice, for men are, after all, 
 but grown-up children and unhappily envy each other 
 all too easily. His Excellency's guards wore blue coats 
 with buff facings and red waistcoats, their body-belts 
 being white and their breeches of buckskin ; their black 
 felt hats were bound with white, and they were furnished 
 with bayonets, that were still rare amongst us. This 
 was a creditable showing for those days. Smallwood's 
 Maryland regiments, in scarlet and buff uniforms, out 
 shone most of their comrades, and were called, with satire 
 and some bitterness, the macaronis. Brave fellows they 
 were, and destined to show us that the dandy can fight 
 as well as the homespun warrior. There, too, were seen 
 the hunting-shirts worn by the riflemen, who became 
 such a terror to the redcoats that his Excellency called 
 for more men in this garb to affright the enemy. There 
 was a wonderful variety in colors. The Light Dragoons 
 had blue coats faced with red, and brown coats faced 
 with green, while Delaware wore blue with red facings. 
 The New Jersey men had short red coats and striped 
 breeches, blue coats and old leather breeches, light blue 
 stockings and shoes with brass buckles, their hats being 
 of wool and bound with yellow. Pennsylvania, casting 
 New Jersey in the shade, came forth like a faded rain 
 bow ; brown coats faced with buff, blue with red, and 
 again brown with white, often much garnished with huge 
 pewter buttons; their breeches were of buckskin, and 
 they wore black cocked hats. Here was a strange 
 company enough ; but there was yet another uniform, 
 the faded red coats worn in the old French wars ; 
 many a brave heart beating under a patched cover and 
 wearing the king's livery to fight the king. Strange as 
 it may seem, at this stern season, when the liberties of 
 our country were at stake, men quarrelled over such
 
 252 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 differences in dress. Many an honest heart burned 
 with anger because a homespun coat was the object of 
 scorn to one in better apparel ; many were ready to 
 wrangle over a threadbare sleeve while the enemy's 
 ships were bearing down from Halifax. 
 
 There was another cause of bitterness, and this was of 
 a deeper and more delicate nature. In the eyes of 
 some good people, the Church of England was the 
 church of the king. The Presbyterians had a feud 
 against it, and the fires of jealousy and suspicion, in 
 those days, lacked not fuel to feed upon. The end of 
 it was a strange scene upon one Sabbath at Trinity 
 Church. The rector, Dr. Auchmuty, was ill at New 
 Brunswick, and in his place was the Reverend Charles 
 Inglis, who believed it contrary to his duty to leave out 
 the prayer for the king. Now, this prayer did greatly 
 offend the Whigs, and one Sunday morning a company 
 of a hundred and fifty men armed with bayonets marched 
 into the church playing upon drum and fife. Straight 
 way women shrieked and fainted, looking for no less 
 than the death of Mr. Inglis; but he, being a brave man, 
 went on quietly with the service, and when the appointed 
 time came, kneeled down and said the prayer for his 
 Majesty in a clear voice. There was loud and angry 
 talking, and many threats from the people, but a brave 
 man has ever a strange hold upon the hearts of his 
 fellows, and the priest was not harmed. But the victory 
 was not permanent ; alarmed at the demonstration, the 
 vestrymen took counsel, and in the end the doors of the 
 English churches were closed until Mr. Howe came. 
 Strange, too, since his Excellency was of that faith, but 
 the Presbyterians were triumphant. Thus war went even 
 to the altar, and there were many sad scenes when fami 
 lies were estranged and the nearest and dearest parted.
 
 DOROTHY WAYNE. 253 
 
 In New York, as at Cambridge, Ephraim Minot at 
 tached himself to my person, and hardly a day passed 
 without some service from him. He still wore the old 
 green coat, that miraculously hung together, taking some 
 pride in this strange apparel, and always eVad ing my offers 
 of better garments, until I let him have his way, feeling 
 that I should scarcely know him in other raiment. It 
 was from him that I learned of a matter which came near 
 to working a great mischief and disaster to our cause. 
 
 One evening in June I sat in my room at Fraunces 1 
 Tavern, resting for a brief space after a hard day of 
 active service inspecting and watching the works at 
 Lispenard's -Hill. It was quite still so that I heard the 
 voices of men in the street below. I remember my 
 displeasure when Ephraim came to the door ; I was in 
 no mood to listen to him, but his manner arrested my 
 attention. He looked as unmoved as ever, but he was 
 more quick and earnest in speech than usual. 
 
 "You are not in your uniform, captain," he remarked, 
 glancing at my clothes ; " so far, so good. Put on your 
 hat then, sir, and come with me. I have something 
 that I would show you." 
 
 I had no wish to go, and told him so, somewhat 
 sharply ; but he bore it with much patience, and smiled 
 a little. 
 
 " You must come, sir," he persisted quietly, " and as 
 quickly as may be, for we have some way to go." 
 
 " I have no love for mysteries, Minot," I said irri 
 tably; "I must even know my errand, before I go 
 upon it." 
 
 " Then it may be that you will never go," he an 
 swered dryly, "for I can scarcely tell you what it is 
 myself. But this I know, that if you love the cause, and 
 I be not mistaken, you have no time to lose."
 
 254 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 Impressed more by his manner than his words, I 
 roused myself, and without more parley followed him 
 down the stairs and from the house. He led me by the 
 quiet streets and lanes, to avoid the company that 
 would stop me* on the thoroughfares, and we made 
 our way rapidly toward the suburbs of the town. 
 Presently I found that he was guiding me in the di 
 rection of Lispenard's Meadows, yet I asked no ques 
 tions, being minded to let him have his way. The still 
 June evening had a beauty of its own ; the sky was 
 covered with light clouds, and the beauty of the young 
 summer was about us. The chestnut-trees in Bayard's 
 woods were tasselled with bloom, and from their midst 
 came the sweet shrill note of a catbird. We had passed 
 Richmond Hill and seen the lights from the house, 
 shining through the trees that clustered about it ; thence 
 our walk was in a southeasterly direction. Presently 
 we drew near to some public house, and I asked Minot 
 what place it was, with some impatience, for I saw that 
 he was turning his steps toward it. 
 
 "Do you not know it, sir?" he asked; "that is 
 Corbie's Tavern." 
 
 " I know it not," I replied shortly, " neither do I 
 wish to know it. What fool's errand is this? I have no 
 mind to squander time at every common public-house 
 about New York, nor is it a profitable place for you." 
 
 " Of that I am not sure," he replied, pausing in the 
 road and thrusting his hands into his pockets ; " we 
 shall know more of that later." 
 
 " Pshaw ! " I exclaimed testily, " do you think I came 
 thus far, Minot, to spend my evening here ? I came at 
 your request, judging that the errand must be of some 
 importance ; but I have neither time nor inclination 
 to trifle."
 
 DOROTHY WAYNE. 255 
 
 Ephraim was unmoved ; he stood fairly planted in my 
 path, and his face betrayed no sign of emotion. 
 
 " Have patience a little longer, captain," he said in 
 his drawling voice ; " we are here now, and you might as 
 well see it through." 
 
 " Go on, then," I said sharply, somewhat mollified by 
 the truth of his argument ; and we walked on a little way 
 in silence. 
 
 I began now to observe the tavern, and saw the bright 
 ness of the illumination, and the black forms of men 
 moving about within ; the door was open, and the light 
 shone in a broad space on the ground without, where 
 were some loungers. As we approached, I heard plainly 
 the sound of voices and the jingle of glasses, and my 
 repugnance increased, even as my curiosity awoke. A 
 few yards from the door, Ephraim stopped me with a 
 sign. 
 
 " Say nothing, captain," he whispered, suddenly los 
 ing his indifference; "use your ears and not your 
 tongue." 
 
 " Nay," I replied, half laughing, " I must even use 
 both at my discretion ; but I believe that you may trust 
 me." 
 
 Ephraim nodded, and once more assuming the lead, 
 walked slowly to the door, and there paused with two 
 others ; and I, coming up behind, looked over their 
 shoulders into the room.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 CORBIE'S TAVERN. 
 
 STANDING thus sheltered by Ephraim and the others, I 
 had opportunity to examine the interior at my leisure. 
 It was a square room, low-ceiled, with dingy walls ; above 
 the great fireplace the smoke of many winters had left 
 a yellow stain. On the bar stood a cheerful array of 
 glasses and no lack of liquors, and the place was well 
 filled with a motley throng of visitors. Many of these 
 were soldiers, and two wore the blue and buff coats and 
 red waistcoats of General Washington's body-guards. 
 At first I observed nothing but the common air of a 
 public house, and was the more annoyed at Ephraim's 
 persistence. Then I noticed that there was some stir at 
 the farther end of the room, and a short thick man in a 
 white coat stood up and began to address the others. 
 At the beginning there was no great significance to 
 his speech, and I could make neither head nor tail of 
 it. Soon, however, my ear caught words that roused my 
 curiosity, and at the same moment Ephraim moved 
 quietly into the room, and I followed. We took our 
 places by the door, and for a while no man observed us, 
 though afterwards they were keen enough in their notice 
 of me. At this time a light- colored mulatto, wearing 
 blue clothes, came suddenly in, by the door opposite, 
 and talked apart with the rrym in the white coat. A 
 paper passed betwixt them, and after reading it he of
 
 CORBIE'S TAVERN. 
 
 the white coat turned with much effrontery to his audi 
 ence, signing to them to be still. 
 
 " It is even as I told you, my friends," he said in a deep 
 voice ; " and we are all friends here to-night, I believe." 
 
 " Ay, all friends," responded several voices, at once. 
 
 At this, the first speaker glanced about him keenly, as 
 if he did not wholly trust the assurance, but after an 
 instant he went on in a pompous voice. 
 
 " It is even better than I believed it," he said ; " he 
 who joins this regiment to fight for the true cause 
 will have, so says one in authority, a bounty of five 
 guineas five good guineas two hundred acres of 
 land for himself, one hundred for his wife and fifty " 
 he paused to give weight to his words, " fifty, my friends, 
 for each child ! " 
 
 At this, I pricked up my ears. We, who were ever 
 empty in purse, were not offering such inducements to 
 enlist ; therefore the fellow was either tipsy or a liar, 
 the latter he looked, but not the former. He paused, 
 and his auditors responded with much applause. Only 
 one fellow, a dark man wearing the buff and blue, 
 seemed disposed to question him. 
 
 " Come, come, Forbes," he said tauntingly ; " that 
 offer is upon the lips, we shall never see the color of 
 your money ! " 
 
 " Now, as truly as my name is Gilbert Forbes," replied 
 he of the white coat, with an oath, " it is a fair offer and 
 a straight one ; the five guineas be in readiness, and 
 there is more money behind. We are not ragged 
 beggars, but honest men." 
 
 " Come, then, honest man," replied the guardsman, 
 mockingly, " give us some assurance of the good of this 
 great enterprise." 
 
 " It is the best the fairest the " began Forbes,
 
 258 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 but stopped suddenly, for the landlord, Corbie, plucked 
 his sleeve and pointed at me. 
 
 He was a sharp-eyed restless knave, and had spied 
 me by the door ; with the keen observation of the inn 
 keeper, he saw at once the difference between my 
 appearance and that of his other guests. At his ges 
 ture twenty eyes were turned suddenly upon me, and 
 I found myself an object of unpleasant prominence, 
 and was conscious that my face was scarlet. I doubt 
 not that my look and bearing were those of a soldier, 
 though my dress was plain and sober and I wore no 
 weapon. However quiet my appearance and behavior, 
 it was yet patent that I carried consternation into the 
 assembly ; more than one lowering glance was cast in 
 my direction, while Corbie and Forbes conversed 
 apart, also looking at me. It was at this juncture that 
 Ephraim made an extraordinary move, which came 
 near being his undoing, since I was so violently an 
 gered thereat that it was on my tongue to call him 
 a liar and a knave, a sudden intuition alone staying 
 my purpose. Leaving his place by my side, he walked 
 leisurely to the center of the room, and there sat down 
 on the edge of a table ; taking up a bottle of some 
 liquor, he filled a glass slowly, while he addressed him 
 self to the man in the white coat. 
 
 " Friend Forbes," he said in his usual drawling tone, 
 "I didn't forget that promise I made you. I brought 
 the gentleman to-night. He is minded to be of our 
 party, but would fain hear the matter and consider it, 
 before he speaks himself. But he is entirely of our way 
 of thinking, gentlemen," he added calmly, looking 
 straight at me and raising his glass. " Here 's a health, 
 Mr. Forbes and other parties unknown : long life, a long 
 reign and success, to King George ! "
 
 COKBIPS TAVERN. 259 
 
 I uttered an exclamation, but happily it was lost in 
 the stir and alarm that followed Ephraim's bold words. 
 Men sprang from their chairs, and Corbie shrank back 
 with a frightened face ; only the man Forbes seemed un 
 moved, staring defiantly about him. As for Minot, he 
 coolly drained his glass and remained seated upon 
 the table, the picture of unconcern. After the first 
 shock of surprise, I commanded myself, resolving to 
 watch these strange proceedings; but I was not to 
 escape so easily. Corbie, the landlord, kept whispering 
 in the ear of the man in the white coat, until the latter 
 put him aside with great impatience. 
 
 " Pshaw, man ! " he said roughly, " you might as 
 well hang for a sheep as a lamb. We are all friends 
 here to-night. Perhaps," he added with sudden suavity, 
 fixing his eyes on me, " the gentleman yonder will 
 step forward here and address the company in behalf 
 of the true cause." 
 
 At this, I became once more the center of observa 
 tion, but happily was no longer wholly unprepared. I 
 stirred not from my place, although those nearest began 
 to move aside to give me room to pass to the end of 
 the apartment. 
 
 " I thank you," I said, with as cool a voice as I could 
 command, " but I am here to-night to profit by instruc 
 tion rather than to instruct. Yet I would fain ask a 
 few questions, by your leave." 
 
 There were cries of " Hear, hear ! " and I saw a cer 
 tain relief in the bold face of the ringleader, yet he was 
 not wholly satisfied. 
 
 " Any question that I am at liberty to answer, sir," 
 he said, with an air of servility that suited ill his rugged 
 exterior. "I am a man under authority, and not able 
 to speak with all the freedom that I would."
 
 2(50 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " Oh, you know enough, Gilbert ! " came in a taunting 
 voice from him of the blue and buff. 
 
 " This undertaking being for his Majesty," I said 
 deliberately, and feigned not to notice the uneasy stir 
 in the room, " must be under the direction, as I take it, 
 of Governor Tryon. It seems to me, in this case, we 
 should have some written evidence of our engagement, 
 especially as there are many here, and I mistake not, 
 who jeopardize their necks to serve the king." 
 
 I paused an instant to observe the growing conster 
 nation in the faces about me ; the covert threat of the 
 halter sat not well upon their stomachs, and Corbie's 
 eyes grew round with terror. 
 
 "What, then, is our engagement?" I continued with 
 more boldness ; " whence come our arms ? Certain it is 
 that we can steal none from the rebels, for there are 
 none to spare ; and, lastly, where is the money? " 
 
 I had thrown a fair light on the matter, and saw that, 
 from being suspected, I was rapidly gaining in their 
 esteem, since many were of my mind. But what pleased 
 me the most was that Forbes fell easily into my trap. 
 He had enough of low cunning, but he saw only in my 
 speech the anxiety of a man who desired to be sure 
 of his price, and this was on a level with his own 
 ambitions. 
 
 " We can satisfy you, sir, amply satisfy you," he re 
 plied, rubbing his hands together with an air of high 
 content. But I observed the innkeeper slipping about 
 and looking furtively from the windows; doubtless he 
 had more to lose. Forbes moved to a table in the 
 center of the room to be better heard, and then ad 
 dressed us. 
 
 " In the first place, gentlemen, our cause is righteous," 
 he said, raising his eyes to the ceiling with a sancti-
 
 CORBIE'S TAVERN. 26 1 
 
 monious manner ; " it is the service of his Majesty, that 
 should be a sufficient reward for an honest man 
 
 " But it is n't, honest Gilbert," interrupted the 
 guardsman. 
 
 Forbes only gave him a hard glance, and went on 
 unmoved. " I have already," he said, " told you of the 
 liberal terms, five guineas' bounty and the grant of 
 land " 
 
 " Which must be first seized from its present owners," 
 put in the talkative blue coat. 
 
 " A rebel can own nothing," replied Forbes, sternly. 
 " Our service, too, will be but an easy matter. We have 
 only to co-operate with the king's troops, and they will 
 presently arrive in great force. These Yankees cannot 
 stand an hour against his Majesty's guns, and we will 
 come in to enjoy the fruits of an easy victory. As for 
 the money, I have some here this very night, and every 
 man who enlists and takes the oath of secrecy will re 
 ceive money to buy arms or aught else he needs. We 
 are no cornfield beggars, like this ragged mob in the 
 city. The king knows how to reward his followers." 
 
 " The king shall come to his own again ! " sang 
 Ephraim, who still sat upon the table and had continued 
 to drink at intervals. 
 
 His appearance was now so entirely that of a simple 
 tipsy loafer that I began to doubt his consciousness of 
 all that was passing. His hat was more over one ear 
 than ever, and he was smiling in a silly vacant fashion 
 into the bottle that he held in his hand. Meanwhile 
 Forbes had called for a Bible, and laying it upon the 
 table in the poor company of empty glasses, he drew 
 out a paper and was ready to write down the names of 
 such as would enlist upon the spot. The promise of 
 ready money drew them, as sugar draws summer flies, and
 
 262 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 he had soon a fair company about him, though some 
 were yet eager to know the full amount of service that 
 would be required, and he grew more impatient at their 
 questions. 
 
 "What will you have?" he cried harshly; "do you 
 want the king's money for sitting in the chimney-corner? 
 What is it to spike a few guns and to run these rebels 
 into the river?" 
 
 " Nay, but," began a reluctant one, " if this matter 
 fails some of us may be hurt, and " 
 
 " Hurt ! " shouted Forbes, exasperated, and striking 
 his fist upon the table with a force that made the glasses 
 spin, " hurt ! W 7 hy, damn you, they would never find 
 a coward like you, save in some cellar ! Here, Corbie, 
 swear these men upon the book or they will be as eager 
 to betray us as they are to run ! But I can tell you, 
 gentlemen, that the king has rope enough to send all his 
 rebels to hell." 
 
 He stood, leaning his clenched fists upon the table 
 and lowering at his auditors, who for the most part 
 shrank a little at the naked violence of his speech, 
 though some did faintly applaud him. At this juncture 
 Ephraim, slipping off the table where he had sat, staggered 
 to a seat upon the window-sill, overturning some chairs 
 in his path. Here he sat, still holding fondly to his 
 bottle, and began to sing, in a maudlin voice, a royalist 
 song which exalted the king and sent his Excellency to 
 perdition. However, this credible performance gained 
 little attention, since Forbes was engaged in a wrangle 
 with the dark guardsman, who was something loath to 
 sign his name to the contract. 
 
 "What ails you to-night, Thomas Hickey?" asked 
 Forbes, sharply ; " these be new scruples and you are 
 no new hand ! "
 
 CORBIE'S TAVERN. 263 
 
 At this, the dark face of the traitor flushed more 
 deeply and he lowered at his interrogator. 
 
 " Have done with your bullying ways, Gilbert ! " he 
 exclaimed sullenly. " I am doing enough for you and 
 your infernal schemes to hang for it ; but when it comes 
 to that, we will hang together." 
 
 Forbes laughed unpleasantly, and pointed his ringer 
 at the other's dress. 
 
 " I am not wearing the devil's uniform," he said 
 tauntingly. 
 
 "The devil will get you, nevertheless," Hickey replied 
 violently. 
 
 " Come, come, gentlemen," interrupted Corbie, plain 
 tively ; " your quarrelling is only an injury to his Maj 
 esty's cause ; two such noble men should be fast friends 
 to serve the king." 
 
 " The king will come to his own again ! " sang 
 Ephraim's tipsy voice. 
 
 Some turned quickly at this interruption, and saw the 
 singer wave his bottle in feeble ecstasy, and then, as 
 unexpectedly, he lost his balance and rolled out the 
 window, his feet remaining for a few moments, waving 
 helplessly over the sill before they were lost in the dark 
 ness. This incident, provoking laughter, saved them a 
 drunken brawl, and for a while there was a general re 
 turn of good fellowship. 
 
 For some time I had seen the increasing peril and 
 embarrassment of my situation, and had looked for a 
 way of escape. This came to me as Corbie arid Forbes 
 began to call the men up, by name, to swear them to 
 secrecy. In the stir, as they fell into line, I evaded the 
 covert watchfulness of those near me and slipped out 
 the door. Happily there was no one without, and not 
 forgetting Ephraim I went in that direction to see if he
 
 264 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 was still lying under the window. But there was no one 
 there, and I hastened my steps, fearing that they might 
 endeavor to recall me to enforce the oath. I was half 
 dazed, too, with the startling revelations of the night, and 
 unable to understand Ephraim in this new character, 
 since I had never seen him save as sober as any Puritan. 
 However, I had no time for reflection, but set my face 
 toward Richmond Hill and pushed on at a rapid gait. 
 I had scarcely proceeded a hundred yards when I heard 
 a step behind me, and fearing pursuit, turned sharply 
 and looked back. A tall man was following closely in 
 my tracks, and at a second glance I recognized him. 
 
 " Ah," I exclaimed, " the fall has sobered you enough 
 to let you walk in a straight line, it seems." 
 
 "As straight as usual, captain," drawled Ephraim, in 
 his ordinary tones, " and more straight than many knaves." 
 
 Then I knew that the fellow was a clever actor, and 
 began to doubt his honesty, although I reproached my 
 self in a moment for it. 
 
 " How long have you been going to yonder den of 
 thieves?" I asked him sternly. 
 
 " A couple of times, I take it," he replied with perfect 
 unconcern. " That big man in the white coat is a gun 
 smith, and as great a rogue as there is out of Satan's 
 kingdom ; the nigger in the blue clothes is a servant of 
 Governor Tryon. Thus much I learned before I took 
 you to see them in their nest. Do you regret the going, 
 captain? " 
 
 " Nay," I said sharply, " not if it may serve my coun 
 try, though I feel unclean from the contamination." 
 
 "And you thought me drunk?" Ephraim laughed 
 dryly. " Bless your heart, sir, they used to say that it 
 took nigh a hogshead to turn my father's brain, and I 
 have never taken the measure of mine."
 
 CORBIE'S TAVERN. 26$ 
 
 " I should judge that you might equal, if not excel 
 the paternal record," I replied ; " at least, I have no 
 wish to test you." 
 
 At which, he laughed again, taking pride, as I have 
 seen others, in his capacity to drink more than other 
 men unhurt. Meanwhile we had walked rapidly on 
 ward, and he asked me now if I intended to go to Rich 
 mond Hill, and I replied in the affirmative. 
 
 " Shall you need me, captain ? " he inquired, enjoying 
 keenly, I think, his new importance. 
 
 " I cannot do without you," I replied, and was con 
 scious in the darkness of his gratification. 
 
 We looked back more than once, but the lights still 
 burned cheerfully in the tavern ; there was no sign that 
 we were suspected, and we went on upon our errand 
 with more hopeful hearts.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 CONSPIRACY CONFOUNDED. 
 
 I HAD no thought, when Ephraim led me out that 
 night, nor afterwards, when I had heard the treason 
 able talk at Corbie's Tavern, of the magnitude of the 
 conspiracy. It seemed to me but the plotting of low 
 fellows who would corrupt the common soldiers, and 
 especially his Excellency's guards. As for Tryon, I 
 knew not whether he was indeed engaged in these ne 
 farious schemes, or they but used his name to further 
 their own interests. That which seemed to me most 
 patent and most dangerous was the hatching of a plot 
 that might imperil the person of General Washington. 
 It was but natural that the enemy should desire to re 
 move one who stood at the forefront of the battle, and 
 these low rascals were the very tools for such a purpose. 
 The Richmond Hill house stood alone, outside the town, 
 its isolation offering the fairest opportunity to the trai 
 tors and assassins. Surrounded, too, by trees, it seemed 
 the very spot to tempt a villanous design. My heart 
 beat high when I approached it on that night ; I thought 
 of the secret danger lurking so near at hand, and of the 
 great loss to the colonies that might follow a blow 
 struck here. 
 
 We had no difficulty in obtaining admission, and I 
 was almost immediately summoned to the general's 
 presence. I found him with General Greene and Gen 
 eral Putnam, and was kindly and pleasantly received.
 
 CONSPIRACY CONFOUNDED. 267 
 
 My error, or my fault, at Cambridge had long since 
 been forgiven ; his Excellency had ever an amiable and 
 dignified manner to his officers, nor was his composure 
 readily ruffled, even in moments of danger. To this trio, 
 then, I told my story, and presently Ephraim was sum 
 moned to corroborate it in detail. Both Washington and 
 Putnam doubtless remembered him in connection with 
 the escape of Dick Talbot, and they listened with interest 
 to his story, told in his own fashion, but without his usual 
 embellishments. It was interesting to note the effect of 
 these revelations upon the three men ; both Greene and 
 Putnam were excited and disturbed, but he whom it most 
 concerned remained unmoved. His personal peril had 
 never any weight with him ; he had the courage of a 
 lion, but was ever zealous for the safety of the cause. 
 He showed no anxiety, even when Ephraim told them 
 that conspiracy was hatching in low places, and that the 
 conspirators aimed at the life of the commander-in-chief. 
 Minot surprised me with his revelations, and it was at 
 his suggestion that other witnesses were produced. In 
 a few days we discovered that the plot was spread 
 through the town by the liquor-dealers, who could easily 
 corrupt the masses. We had but found the end of a 
 tangled skein, and I was much amazed at the spread of 
 the mischief. Involved in it were various tavern-keepers ; 
 one was the landlord of an inn upon the corner of 
 Beaver Street and Broadway, "The Highlander " they 
 called the place ; another was under the sign of Robin 
 Hood. A beer-house on Tryon Row, and a tavern op 
 posite the Oswego Market, sheltered more plotters, while 
 Gilbert Forbes, the gunsmith, was the general agent. 
 So important was the discovery that the investigation 
 was confided to a committee of the Congress of New 
 York and the plot was traced to Governor Tryon and
 
 268 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 the mayor, David Matthews. It was said that it ex 
 tended up the Hudson, and that the Tories were every 
 where enlisted. 
 
 Rumors of the discovery of some conspiracy had 
 spread about the city, and excitement flamed up on all 
 sides, while strange reports flew from mouth to mouth. 
 Some said that the Tories were about to rise in great 
 numbers, destroy the magazine and heavy guns, and 
 presently massacre all our field officers and slay General 
 Washington. Children had the story on the streets, and 
 old wives talked of it upon the doorsteps. No man 
 knew the truth, or any portion of it, yet that but made 
 the falsehoods thrive the better and confound the 
 soberest. We in the army, who knew the secret, were 
 impatient for action, and grumbled much at the slow 
 movements of the committee of investigation, yet at 
 last the climax came. General Washington was re 
 quested to secure the person of the mayor and his 
 papers. I was with the officer who carried the warrant 
 to General Greene from his Excellency. Mayor Mat 
 thews was then living at Flatbush, at no great distance 
 from General Greene's command, and in the midst of a 
 nest of Tories, since Long Island, like Staten, was full 
 of these malcontents. The order was to be executed at 
 precisely one of the clock, and great care was to be used 
 in securing the person of the mayor and his documents. 
 With great precision were these instructions obeyed ; I 
 was with the detachment sent by General Greene. We 
 surrounded the house at Flatbush, and with no difficulty 
 effected the arrest, Mr. Matthews hotly protesting his 
 innocence when the officer in command read the warrant 
 to him. But we were entirely disappointed in the at 
 tempt to secure his papers ; diligently did we search 
 every crack and crevice of the mansion, but without
 
 CONSPIRACY CONFOUNDED. 269 
 
 result. He had verily builded wisely, if he was so 
 nefarious a plotter, for we found not the smallest scrap 
 of writing to put in evidence. The heat and earnestness 
 of our search only served to frighten a maidservant into 
 hysterics, which mortified us in the midst of our zeal. 
 So at last we rode away with the mayor, but with no 
 documents in our pockets. 
 
 As we went through the woods beyond Flatbush, we 
 well nigh forgot our anger and disappointment. About 
 us bloomed in masses the pale laurel, and above us the 
 birds made the air sweet with music. I dismounted and 
 burdened my saddlebow with a great mass of laurel blos 
 soms, and rode on, to the amusement of the soldiers, who 
 yet dimly understood and sympathized with my love for 
 these simple country flowers. Thus it was that we car 
 ried the mayor to the committee to be examined, and 
 from thence I returned to New York, and that same 
 evening, feeling my flowers out of place in a tavern 
 room, took the laurel to Miss Wayne. 
 
 It was just past supper-time when I stood before the 
 hospitable door on Hanover Square, and was immedi 
 ately admitted by a white-headed negro slave. He 
 conducted me to the living-room, and Dorothy came to 
 meet me with her finger on her lip. Her grandmother 
 was asleep over her knitting in a great chair by the win 
 dow, and the young girl pointed to her with a smile. I 
 gave her my simple flowers, and it was pleasant to see 
 the light in her brown eyes as she looked at them ; she 
 too loved these sweet pink blossoms, and held them 
 for a long while on her knee while we sat together talk 
 ing in low tones, that we might not wake her grand 
 mother. I remember that on that night I recognized 
 how really lovely was the face before me. I had never 
 thought her beautiful, nor was she, and her repose and
 
 2 70 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 gentleness, the clear paleness of her oval face and the 
 softness of her large brown eyes made me continually 
 contrast her with the image of Joyce, whose beauty had 
 so much color and animation. Yet, blind as I was to 
 other charms, I saw the grace and sweetness of the 
 woman before me. Her gown, which was that night 
 something of the color of a violet, suited her complex 
 ion well, and the white kerchief revealed her slender 
 girlish throat ; her hair was powdered, but she wore 
 none of the great puffs and wondrous ringlets of the 
 townswomen, nor was there any ornament. Her figure, 
 too, was fitly set in the great room, low-ceiled and with 
 its sanded floor. The great carved mantelpiece went 
 nearly to the ceiling, and over the fireplace was a lion's 
 head ; below this were set the blue Dutch tiles, with 
 windmills on them and high-decked ships. The fur 
 niture was of mahogany, and had come over with the 
 family to New Amsterdam ; in the corner stood the 
 grandam's spinning-wheel, which was yet in use, for 
 the good dame had never yet relinquished the ancient 
 customs. A jasmine vine was clinging to the window- 
 sill where I sat with Miss Wayne, and the sweetness of 
 the perfume filled the air. While we talked together, 
 I told her many stories of Salem and of the old days 
 by the sea; yet it was not in my heart to speak of 
 Joyce, even to her sympathetic ears, and so the talk 
 of the past had still a hollowness to me, though she 
 knew it not and told me of her own childhood. And 
 from this I began to understand the pathos in her eyes ; 
 she had been old enough to remember the death of 
 her mother, and the fearful sense of loss and loneliness. 
 It seemed that she had been from that time the charge 
 of her grandparents, and had never had a playmate, so 
 she had grown up with old quaint ways, and seemed even
 
 CONSPIRACY CONFOUNDED. 2? I 
 
 now apart from other girls of her age. The sympathy 
 that springs up quickly between two people who both 
 have a sense of loneliness, arose between us, and we 
 talked on until the grandam woke and fell asleep again. 
 It interested me to see how quickly this gentle creature 
 would take fire for her country's cause, and I wondered 
 a little why women will make such a cause their own 
 and quarrel for it even more readily than a man. I 
 earned a sharp rebuke by speaking with anxiety of the 
 weakness of our army and of the strength that the king 
 was likely to send against us. She mistook my meaning, 
 and thought me fearful of defeat. 
 
 " For shame, Mr. Allen ! " she said, her brown eyes 
 shining ; " you a soldier and apprehensive ! Our cause 
 is a righteous one, and just, and surely shall it be 
 triumphant." 
 
 This reminded me so much of Joyce and her cham 
 pionship of the king's rights that I only smiled while 
 Miss Wayne went on to read me a lecture on the need 
 of steadfastness of heart, and then was covered with 
 confusion when I assured her that the only doubt had 
 been in her own mind. She asked me many questions, 
 too, about the rumors of conspiracy, but these I cDuld 
 not answer, for the time was not come for speech. Yet 
 before long the matter was common talk about the city. 
 
 The arrest of Mayor Matthews was followed close by 
 that of many others, and great was the dismay that over 
 took the Tories, many of the conspirators seeking refuge 
 in the woods and elsewhere. It was found that even 
 his Excellency's guards were corrupted, mainly through 
 the man Thomas Hickey, and of him there was made 
 an example. Much of the testimony, however, was too 
 dubious to convict the better class of the culprits, and 
 the miyor declared that he had protested against the
 
 272 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 whole matter ; nevertheless, he was thrown into prison 
 to await trial. 
 
 Hickey, who proved to be a deserter from the British 
 army, and thus a double traitor, was sentenced by court- 
 martial to be hanged. As a matter therefore of salutary 
 warning to all such plotters, he was one morning, at the 
 end of June, escorted by a detachment of soldiers, 
 carrying fixed bayonets, to a field near Bowery Lane. 
 There the poor wretch was hanged in the presence of 
 a great concourse of people. I was sorry that the greater 
 rascal, Gilbert Forbes, hung not with him, as Hickey 
 himself had prophesied ; but they were not punished 
 together. 
 
 On the next day, while the city was yet reflecting 
 upon the end of the evildoer, ships-of-war appeared 
 off Staten Island. Word flew from mouth to mouth 
 that the Ministerial army had come at last, and it 
 was true. The fleet from Halifax, full forty sail, had 
 passed the Narrows, and lay below Staten Island, wait 
 ing for the coming of Lord Howe, the sailor brother 
 of General William Howe, and commonly called, on 
 account of his swarthy skin, " Black Dick." He loved 
 business and was a fighting admiral ; the very opposite 
 in every way of Mr. Howe, who was indolent and no 
 great warrior ; a man who loved women and the gaming 
 table.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 THE FORTUNE OF WAR. 
 
 IN the early evening of the ninth of July, 1776, the 
 Continental troops stationed about New York City were 
 assembled on the Common in front of Saint Paul's 
 Church. Below, in the bay, lay the fleet of King George, 
 the standard of old England floating proudly from every 
 masthead. The hearts of our men stirred with a deep 
 emotion, since we of the patriot army knew that great 
 tidings had come from Philadelphia, where the Congress 
 was assembled. We waited therefore, in that quiet 
 hour, with eager expectation, nor were we disappointed 
 in our hopes. That document which made the United 
 Colonies a free and sovereign State, the Declaration of 
 Independence, was read to us, adopted five days before 
 by the General Congress at Philadelphia. The solemn 
 words were heard with reverence, and the multitude 
 responded with wild applause. The fire of patriotic zeal 
 moved men to a great demonstration, and for a few 
 moments no sound was heard but tumultuous cheering ; 
 then we listened once more to his Excellency's own 
 words of encouragement and advice. To him this 
 Declaration was a great relief, for many men had been 
 hanging back from the cause in hopes of a pacification. 
 
 " The general hopes," thus ran his orders of the day, 
 " that this important event will serve as a fresh incentive 
 to every officer and soldier, to act with fidelity and 
 
 18
 
 274 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 courage, as knowing that now the peace and safety of his 
 country depend, under God, solely on the success of our 
 arms ; and that he is now in the service of a State pos 
 sessed of sufficient power to reward his merit, and 
 advance him to the highest honors of a free country." 
 
 It was to him, as to many of us, the end of temporiz 
 ing, the beginning of an energetic and determined course, 
 and we hailed it with joy. The colonies had now 
 openly declared that they were free and would remain 
 so ; and we might confidently hope that they would con 
 tend for this principle until the end was victoriously 
 accomplished. Verily, a great change had been wrought 
 in two short years ; when the Port Bill was enforced in 
 Massachusetts Bay, men stood aghast at the violence of 
 the opposition to the Ministerial party, no one then 
 dreaming of open disloyalty to the king. Ay, and if the 
 Government had been wise enough to conciliate the 
 colonists, this end would never have been accomplished, 
 but now there was no longer room for vain regret. 
 Yet it was not many days before my Lord Howe came, 
 clothed with the powers of a commissioner, to make 
 terms with the king's indignant people. 
 
 The solemnity of the occasion seemed that night 
 to touch men's hearts less than the joy of it, and the 
 town was wild. Bells rang, and people shouted in the 
 streets, and many bonfires were kindled. In Bowling 
 Green, before the fort, stood the leaden statue of the 
 king, and here the mob collected, soldiers and idle fel 
 lows and women, who might better have stayed at home, 
 and little wanton children. These, with a great uproar, 
 pulled down the image of King George and melted it 
 for bullets for the common cause. It was but the out 
 burst of the popular displeasure against him whom they 
 supposed to be the author of their troubles. Yet it dis-
 
 THE FORTUNE OF WAR. 
 
 pleased General Washington because it resembled a riot 
 more than a sober expression of the people's feeling, and 
 he rebuked them in his orders on the following day. 
 
 Events crowded upon each other, and men watched 
 with eager interest the enemy's fleet, lying in the bay. 
 We were in constant anticipation of an attack, and were 
 at our alarm-posts at three and four o'clock in the morn 
 ing. A sleepless vigilance guarded the city, yet were 
 the inhabitants in a pitiable state of trepidation ; and 
 when the British war-ships, the Phoenix and the Rose, 
 sailed up the bay replying to our batteries with their 
 broadsides, the streets were filled with shrieking women 
 and children. The thundering of the cannon and the 
 pitiful cries of these poor creatures moved us to com 
 passion, and his Excellency feared the effect upon the 
 raw recruits who were too easily affrighted at the horrors 
 of war. It was thought that day that the city would 
 certainly be attacked, and the wildest confusion pre 
 vailed ; but the ships went on up the Hudson and re 
 mained there at Tappan Zee, to the great consternation 
 of the Highlands. But we lay upon our arms and 
 were ordered to watch constantly for the signals that 
 would call us to our posts ; these were to be a flag in 
 the day-time, or a light at night in the fort on Bayard's 
 Hill, with three guns fired from the same place, fired 
 quick but distinct, and there would be also two guns 
 from Fort George. The inhabitants endured a constant 
 anxiety, looking for the destruction of their homes and 
 their own ruin. It was upon the very morning after the 
 Phoenix and the Rose had so terrified the weak-hearted, 
 that guns boomed on the fleet of the enemy, and word 
 flew through the city that Ix>rd Howe was come. It 
 was so ; the admiral's ship had entered the bay, and 
 from her foretop masthead floated Saint George's flag.
 
 2/6 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 Our enemies were in full strength, and their commander 
 with them at last. Yet, while the good town trembled 
 at the thought of the approaching conflict, the Declara 
 tion of Independence was again read at the city hall, 
 upon Wall Street, and the king's arms, brought from the 
 court-room, were burned in the open street amid the 
 acclaims of the populace. A free people bade defiance 
 to their enemies ! 
 
 Now followed a season when the British remained 
 passive, while Lord Howe endeavored to win over the 
 people to the king. He declared that he and his 
 brother, Sir William, were in fact commissioners to es 
 tablish peace, and he invited all men to merit pardon 
 from the crown by a prompt return to their duty. This 
 doctrine was like to have a pernicious effect, because of 
 the constant machinations of the Tories, and General 
 Washington had already been compelled to take meas 
 ures against them. In those days there was much talk 
 of Lord Howe's peaceful overtures, and there was a con 
 ference at headquarters between his Excellency and the 
 British adjutant-general, Colonel Patterson. Yet nothing 
 came of it, and all the while we continued to arm and to 
 fortify, especially in the Highlands, where we were less 
 prepared and it seemed likely that the enemy would 
 attempt to seize the Hudson. There was a scheme, too, 
 for destroying the fleet with fire-ships ; but that came to 
 naught, and we drifted onward with the tide, steadily 
 toward the conflict. Soon the Hessians arrived, and Staten 
 Island grew white with their tents. The enemy num 
 bered in all full thirty thousand men, while we had 
 not yet twenty, and many of these disabled by illness. 
 Moreover we were forced to man posts fifteen miles 
 apart, chiefly with new recruits. There was unhappily 
 jealousy between the colonies, and small dissensions
 
 THE FORTUNE OF WAR. 
 
 constantly arose despite the tireless vigilance of General 
 Washington. He had to contend with the faults com 
 mon to untrained soldiers, and constantly endeavored 
 also to prevent his rustics from learning the vices of the 
 regulars. In the midst of outward danger and of de 
 pression at home, he forgot not the moral concfition of 
 his men, and in the orders on the third of August it was 
 stated : " The general is sorry to be informed, that the 
 foolish and wicked practice of profane cursing and 
 swearing, a vice heretofore little known in an American 
 army, is growing into fashion. He hopes the officers 
 will, by example as well as influence, endeavor to check 
 it, and that both they and the men will reflect, that we 
 can have little hope of the blessing of Heaven on our 
 arms, if we insult it by our impiety and folly. Added to 
 this, it is a vice so mean and low, without any tempta 
 tion, that every man of sense and character detests and 
 despises it." 
 
 As usual, the array of our army was a strange one ; we 
 had sent out a call for more men, and these came from 
 the plow, and having no guns, brought with them shovels, 
 pickaxes, and scythes ; with such weapons they were to 
 meet the flower of England's soldiers. General Na- 
 thanael Greene was in command at the village of Brook 
 lyn, which was opposite New York, the East River running 
 between. The village stood upon a peninsula, with Wall- 
 about Bay on the north and Gowanus Cove on the south. 
 At Red Hook, the southwest corner of the peninsula, was 
 erected a battery. Some two miles from the intrench- 
 ments was a range of densely wooded hills that formed a 
 natural barrier across the island. This, then, was the 
 scene of the great battle, not New York, as we supposed 
 that it would be. Unhappily, at the crisis, General 
 Greene, who understood the fortifications and the situa-
 
 2/8 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 tion of the army, was stricken with a fever, and General 
 Sullivan assumed command. 
 
 I shall always remember the day when the tidings 
 came that the enemy's forces were in motion. It was 
 upon the twenty-first of August, and from seven in the 
 morning a fearful storm had raged over the city of New 
 York. Never had men seen the equal ; for three hours 
 the rain fell in torrents and the thunder rolled, while all 
 the sky was on fire with electricity. Death was in the 
 bolts, and four soldiers of the line and three officers were 
 struck by the lightning. Awe was in the hearts of men, 
 and we watched the glorious fury of the elements with 
 strange premonitions that evil was at hand. In the 
 midst of the tempest came an express from Brigadier- 
 General Livingston, telling us that the British had em 
 barked, twenty thousand strong, to attack Long Island, 
 and were determined to "put all to the sword." 
 
 The next day, the sound of cannon came from Long 
 Island, and smoke arose from its groves and pleasant 
 orchards. Regiment after regiment was hurried to the 
 front, and we who were forced to remain inactive panted 
 with impatience. The scenes in the city were most piti 
 ful ; the inhabitants who were able to procure transpor 
 tation began hurriedly to remove their goods, while the 
 poorer sort besieged Washington for aid and for protec 
 tion ; the women and children, frantic with grief and 
 fear, ran aimlessly about the streets, weeping and la 
 menting. All the while the roar of artillery sounded 
 in the distance, and clouds of smoke floated ominously 
 above the battlefield, which was in the wooded land 
 above Flatbush, or so we thought it, though in fact the 
 enemy's forces were divided, some being at Flatbush and 
 some going from Gravesend through Utrecht. A wild 
 rumor that the city of New York would be set on fire if
 
 THK FORTUNE OF WAR. 2?$ 
 
 we retreated, drove the inhabitants to frenzy, and truly 
 the condition of the people was such that the hardest 
 heart would have been moved in sympathy with their 
 terrors. His Excellency, ever tender to women and 
 children, was full of pity, and endeavored to pacify their 
 fears and aid them, when he could, especially those who 
 were poor or helpless. 
 
 Until the day of the unfortunate battle in which we 
 lost so many of our brave fellows, there were continual 
 skirmishes at the outposts, and at last I obtained permis 
 sion to join General Putnam, whom Washington sent over 
 to take command. In the midst of such excitement 
 and danger, I could endure no longer my post with the 
 reserve at New York. 
 
 On the night of the twenty-sixth of August, the enemy 
 advanced by stealth from Flatlands, guided, as we learned 
 afterwards, by a Tory of Long Island. They came upon 
 us through the pass of Bedford Hills, while another wing 
 of their army advanced from Gravesend to the right of 
 our works, by Gowanus Cove. Here was the brigade of 
 Lord Stirling, and I was that night in his camp, so that 
 it fell to my portion to be in the hottest fight. Before 
 the day broke, the scouts came in with the sudden tid 
 ings of the enemy's advance, and Lord Stirling was 
 ordered out with the Delaware and Maryland regiments 
 to keep the redcoats in check. These were the same 
 men who had been called the " macaronis " on account 
 of their dress of buff and scarlet outshining the home 
 spun of their ragged comrades from New England. 
 The gay uniforms had caused much heartburning, but 
 the brave fellows turned out as cheerfully to die in the 
 common cause as their patched and faded companions. 
 We advanced toward Gowanus Cove, and there found 
 the Pennsylvania Provincials. The day was breaking,
 
 280 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 and in the gray twilight we saw the columns of the 
 enemy advancing upon us. Weird was the scene ; the 
 dark woods upon our left, and the gray waters on our 
 right; before us, through the morning vapors, the dark 
 lines of the foe, and stillness over all. The Pennsylvania 
 troops were the first to encounter the enemy, and after a 
 few volleys fell back into the woodland, while the rest of 
 our forces took position in front of them and along a 
 hedge at the foot of the hill. We could hardly hope to 
 do more than hold the foe in check ; but strangely, as we 
 then thought, they did not at once endeavor to force our 
 position. Later, we knew that they had but waited for 
 the arrival of Sir Henry Clinton on the left wing of our 
 army. We took their backwardness for cowardice, and 
 I remember the defiant array of the Delawares and 
 Marylanders, who were drawn up on the side of the hill 
 for several hours, with flying colors. We all believed 
 that the enemy dared not attack us at close quarters, 
 though we heard the thunder of their artillery in the 
 direction of Bedford and knew that a great battle was 
 upon us. It was the sound of the guns that warned us 
 at last that the enemy had come between us and our 
 lines, and Lord Stirling endeavored to retreat by crossing 
 the creek near Yellow Mills; but here we met Lord 
 Cornwallis. We were hemmed in on either side, and 
 endeavored again to extricate ourselves. Coming upon 
 a party of the enemy, they clubbed their firelocks and 
 signalled to us as if they intended to surrender, but when 
 we advanced fired upon us. We returned it with interest ; 
 and so hotly that they were fain to fall back to the ambus 
 cade behind. Desperate was the struggle ; the shot 
 flew like hail, and the roar of artillery on every hand 
 shook the summer air, while men fought hand to hand. 
 We broke to rally again in the woodland, and we could
 
 THE FORTUNE OF WAR. 281 
 
 hear the cries of our brave comrades, overpowered and 
 bayoneted in the cornfield near at hand while we re 
 treated through the marshes. In the midst of all there 
 was a cry that Lord Stirling was taken, which indeed 
 was true, for he had been forced to surrender to the 
 Hessian General de Heister. 
 
 Twice wounded in the desperate struggle, once by a 
 bullet and once by the bayonet of a Hessian, I struggled 
 on with difficulty, faint from loss of blood. We crossed 
 the marshes, drenched as we were with mud and water, 
 and pressed backward to our lines. Every step was a 
 fresh agony to me, yet, half blind with weakness, I bore 
 up, helped by the kind arm of a Delaware comrade. 
 We entered the camp, greeted by cheers, for we carried 
 a standard riddled with grape-shot, yet had twenty- 
 three prisoners with us. I saw the faces of friends, I 
 heard the welcoming shout, and then I fell, and blackness, 
 as of eternal night, closed round me.
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 AN ANGEL OF MERCY. 
 
 WHEN consciousness returned, my brain was dizzy 
 with the violence of conflict. So much so that I 
 thought that I had dreamed of a battlefield, of the flash 
 of fire-arms, the roar of cannon, the clouds of smoke. 
 I was the more doubtful of the reality, because my eyes 
 opened upon a quiet, shaded room, the four walls fresh 
 and white, and the daylight shining dimly through the 
 half-closed green shutters. I lay on white pillows, and 
 white curtains draped the high posts of the bed, and 
 made a canopy above me. Dreamy and half conscious, 
 I viewed the place with a vague impression that I was 
 at home once more, the great cluster of rich-hued pan- 
 sies on the table by my side increasing the deception. 
 I looked at them with a blissful feeling of relaxation 
 from all care and trouble, and I remember to this day 
 the varied hues of their velvet petals. 
 
 After a while a deeper consciousness dispelled my 
 dreams. I roused myself to marvel at surroundings 
 which I knew not, and to listen to the sound of rain 
 falling steadily without. Where was I? How came I 
 here ? Ah ! a move taught me a lesson in pain and 
 brought back the faintness ; my wounds made me re 
 member. But when had it happened? Yesterday, or 
 a thousand years ago? I could not tell, and was far 
 too weak to question fate. Thus I lay still for a while 
 and marvelled greatly, but saw no familiar object in the
 
 AN ANGEL OF MERCY 283 
 
 room, save my own sword, which hung before me on the 
 wall. There was a picture of a woman opposite, but 
 in the dim light I could not discern her features. Only 
 this I knew, the stillness of the place soothed my spirit 
 and the faint sweetness of flowers filled the atmosphere ; 
 the even drip of the rain upon the roof was music in 
 my ears ; how often had I listened to it at home in 
 Snlem, and loved the homely sound ! I was too weak 
 to feel surprise or even apprehension, and waited 
 calmly, when I saw the door opposite open to admit 
 a woman, a slender figure, in a violet-colored gown 
 with a white kerchief on her shoulders. A negro 
 slave followed her, and closed the door gently behind 
 her, while she came cautiously toward the bed, as though 
 she feared to rouse me from my slumber. I knew her, 
 even in the dimness, the pale and gentle face and the 
 soft brown hair ; it was Miss Wayne. I lay quite still 
 and watched her until she paused beside me and put 
 her soft hand on my forehead with the light firm touch 
 of a skilful nurse. Then I spoke, and at my voice she 
 started back in joyful surprise, for she had thought me 
 yet in the stupor in which I had lain so many hours. 
 
 "Is this a vision?" I said, "and are you the min 
 istering angel who transported me from the field of 
 battle?" 
 
 " No angel, only your friend Dorothy Wayne," she 
 answered cheerily, "and happy am I to find you awake 
 and conscious of your surroundings. Are you also out 
 of pain, Captain Allen?" 
 
 "Nay," I responded, fully roused, "now I know I 
 dream not, since surely a kindly spirit would scarcely 
 call me captain. For the pain, I feel rather a great 
 stiffness and ! cannot stir out of this white bed. But 
 tell me, Miss Wayne, how came I here ? "
 
 284 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " You came without your own knowledge or assent, 
 truly," she answered, smiling ; " you were brought over 
 with the wounded from Long Island early this morning, 
 and upon inquiry we found you, grandfather and I, and 
 had you brought here to Hanover Square to nurse and 
 tend you." 
 
 I looked at her sweet face, lighted with such kindness, 
 and marvelled at their friendship for one so lately a 
 stranger. 
 
 "Verily, then," I said, "you are the good angel that 
 I thought you. But tell me," I added eagerly, " I came 
 over with the wounded from Long Island ; how went 
 the fight? New York is ours ; surely, then, we won ! " 
 
 At this, I saw a shadow fall on her bright face and 
 doubt come into her eyes. She hesitated, too, as though 
 she knew not how to answer. 
 
 " Evade me not ! " I cried out passionately. " If it 
 is evil fortune, tell me, in Heaven's name ; I must know 
 it in the end." 
 
 She put her firm hand on mine and held it, trying to 
 quiet me as she would a child, and her face was very 
 sad. 
 
 " Nay," she said gently, " disquiet not your heart at 
 such a time. I will not deceive you, nor do I need to. 
 Surely we are strong enough to bear disaster, other 
 wise victory could never crown our cause. The battle 
 in which you fought so bravely was lost, but not 
 because we failed in courage." 
 
 I uttered a sharp exclamation, and she warned me 
 with her finger to be still. 
 
 " We lost it, because their force was so much the 
 greater," she went on quietly, " and the next day there 
 was rain and fog, and our brave fellows stood in their 
 trenches, weary and wet and disheartened. Then came
 
 AN ANGEL OF MERCY. 285 
 
 the tidings that the great fleet of the British was astir, 
 and that they purposed to surround Long Island and 
 cut off the army to destroy it." 
 
 " In Heaven's name," I cried, " tell me the worst ; 
 is all lost?" 
 
 " Nay, listen," she answered gently ; " our great, our 
 noble commander-in-chief saved his army, saved all 
 those brave lives. God bless him for his courage and 
 his wisdom ! " 
 
 " Amen ! " I answered devoutly ; " but tell me all, 
 Miss Wayne, every word ! " 
 
 " I will tell you," she said, smiling sadly, " but you 
 are like a child that will not be satisfied. His Excel 
 lency determined to take the army over to New York 
 last night. The day after the battle, it began to rain 
 most heavily ; the two armies lay within a quarter of 
 a mile of each other, and throughout the day there 
 were skirmishes. Yesterday a dense fog hung above 
 the island, veiling all things in its folds, and in the midst 
 of this weird scene, full of alarms, our troops prepared 
 to leave their intrenchments. So near were the British 
 that the stroke of spade and pickaxe could be heard at 
 our posts, and any accident might bring them all upon 
 our brave fellows as they attempted to retreat. Yet 
 did our army begin to move ; at night and in the dark 
 ness, with anxious hearts, wet and weary in body, 
 the Americans marched down to the ferry. General 
 Mifflin, with the Pennsylvania regiments and the sur 
 vivors of the gallant Delawares and Marylanders, re 
 mained on guard, in the face of the whole British army, 
 to cover their retreat. Silently, anxiously, wearily, our 
 army moved, and the brave men from Marblehead man 
 aged the embarkation. In the midst of this awful hush 
 there was a cannon shot, and for the moment it seemed
 
 286 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 that all was lost ! Trepidation was in our ranks, but 
 still the enemy was not aroused. Another accident well 
 nigh ruined us; by a mistake in the orders, General 
 Mifflin withdrew his detachment from the post and 
 came down also to the ferry. Here prevailed great con 
 fusion, for the tide had turned and the wind was blowing 
 from the northeast. There were not enough boats with 
 oars, and the sails made no headway against wind and 
 tide. And now came General Mifflin, and our com 
 mander thought that all was lost ; but Mifflin and his 
 gallant men went back back to face the foe and 
 happily the fog had hid the trenches so they knew not 
 of the absence of the men. Think of those brave 
 hearts ! Back from the ferry, back from their retreating 
 comrades, alone to face the army of Great Britain! 
 Surely the Lord of Hosts was with us, for the fog con 
 cealed us, as the pillar of smoke concealed the Israelites ; 
 the adverse wind ceased, the waters became calm, and 
 our brave men came safely over. Last came Mifflin's 
 force and General Washington, upon whom no entreaties 
 prevailed to depart from the post of danger until the 
 last man was embarked. The fog lifted as they crossed 
 the ferry, and the enemy, at last alarmed, were seen in 
 numbers on the farther shore, but our army was saved." 
 
 She paused and looked at me with sparkling eyes, her 
 face flushed and animated and her young form erect. 
 She looked like an inspired prophetess. But my thoughts 
 were sad ones. 
 
 " And now? " I said ; " how fares it with us? " 
 
 In a moment she was- cast down, yet she endeavored 
 to answer me with cheerful spirit. 
 
 " We yet hold the city," she said simply, " but the 
 enemy has garrisoned Long Island, and their ships 
 menace us."
 
 AN ANGEL OF MERCY. 287 
 
 " It storms heavily," I said, listening to the rain ; " in 
 what condition is the city ? " 
 
 " It is a sorry spectacle," she admitted with reluctance, 
 " wet clothing and camp equipage are strewed upon the 
 streets and in the yards of the houses ; the squads of 
 soldiers passing to and fro below us are haggard from 
 their terrible experience and the ceaseless vigil, and 
 unhappily many enlistments are at an end, and " 
 
 " In Heaven's name," I cried, " surely no man 
 deserts his flag at this hour?" 
 
 She bowed her head sadly. " But too many," she 
 replied. 
 
 " The knaves ! " I exclaimed bitterly, " the poltroons ! " 
 
 " Nay," she said sadly, " let us not judge them ; they 
 are but rustics, and unused to all the fearful incidents of 
 war. The plow stands in the furrow in their fields at 
 home, and mayhap their families are in need. Death is 
 ever terrible to the faint-hearted, and surely in battle it 
 is clothed with all its terrors." 
 
 " Your Quaker blood is all for peace," I said, watch 
 ing her with interest, for she seemed to exhibit a new 
 character from that which I had attributed to her. She 
 had seemed gentle even to meekness, but now I saw no 
 lack of spirit. She looked up, as I spoke, with kindling 
 eyes. 
 
 " Yet I believe that I could fight," she exclaimed ; " it 
 seems to me that in the field, knowing my cause a right 
 eous one, fired with the excitement of the moment, 
 thrilled with the wild hope of victory I could fight ! " 
 
 " I believe it," I said, smiling faintly, " and you would 
 look like an avenging angel. Alas for me, I lie here 
 crippled at the very hour when I am most needed ! " 
 
 " And is it not worth the wounds to know that duty 
 gallantly and faithfully done has won the general's
 
 288 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 praise? " she exclaimed, with a thrill in her rich voice. 
 " He saw the brigade of Lord Stirling, watched the action 
 with his field-glass, saw Lord Cornwallis cut off your 
 retreat, and they say that he wrung his hands at the 
 sight. When, instead of surrendering, you charged gal 
 lantly in the face of such numbers, ' Good God ! ' he 
 cried, ' what brave fellows I must this day lose ! ' " 
 
 "Ah, but he did not lose me," I remarked quietly ; 
 "the dead are ever braver than the living!" 
 
 " Yet he has sent here already to ask for you by 
 name," she said, and smiled brightly, pleased as if the 
 honor had come to her. 
 
 "Is it so?" I murmured softly, deeply moved, for I 
 loved him for his high courage and his stern sense of 
 honor, and now the sting of that old wound was healed. 
 I had won on the field the regard that I had once so 
 nearly lost forever. 
 
 Such cheering thoughts I needed, since it was bitter 
 indeed to lie there and hear the stir in the street and 
 presently the distant roar of cannon, and be no better 
 than a log. Burning with impatience, I tossed upon my 
 pillow, and was only comfprted when Dorothy came to 
 bring the latest tidings, which she did faithfully each 
 day, and tended me with all the gentleness of a sister. 
 Her grandmother and old Mr. Wayne himself were often 
 at my pillow, and the faithful black slave, who had 
 attended Dorothy, was ever in the room, watching for 
 my smallest need. Tenderness and care I had in 
 plenty, and General Washington, amid all his anxieties, 
 forgot not to send me kind messages of inquiry and com 
 mendation. My father, hearing of my condition, came 
 on from Philadelphia and stayed with me for a little 
 while, to my great comfort. 
 
 Meanwhile the city was in deep distress, and often
 
 AN ANGEL OF MERCY. 289 
 
 the weeping voices of women and children sounded 
 below my window. The fact that we could not hold the 
 town with our small force against the enemy grew daily 
 more patent, even to the lower classes, and there were 
 the wildest rumors that New York would be burned when 
 we withdrew. Again the people clung to his Excellency 
 for help and for protection, and again his noble heart was 
 torn with pity for the weak and the defenceless. The 
 British and the Tories were busily circulating enormous 
 falsehoods about our intended dealings with the town, 
 to spread disaffection among the people. The thought 
 of burning it, rather than permitting it to serve as a 
 winter shelter for the enemy, had in fact been discussed ; 
 but Congress was against it, as the loss would fall too 
 heavily upon the unhappy citizens who were loyal to our 
 cause. Yet no one could reassure the ignorant, or 
 those whose minds were poisoned with Tory falsehoods, 
 and the distress was pitiful enough. The wealthy Whigs 
 had fled with their household goods, and such as were 
 too poor to escape greater misfortune wept in the 
 streets. It is the poor who suffer ever. 
 
 In those weary September days I lay still helpless and 
 waited, my greatest comfort being Dorothy's gentle 
 friendship, her unfailing cheerfulness. Whatever the 
 fate of the city, her aged grandparents would remain to 
 watch their property, and a personal acquaintance with 
 Mr. Howe assured their safety, but Dorothy bewailed 
 the thought of staying in the camp of the enemy. It 
 was certain that we must withdraw ; the wounded had 
 already been sent to Orangetown, and Washington's 
 headquarters were to be transferred to King's Bridge. 
 My father had arranged for my removal to a farmhouse 
 some distance up the Hudson, since I was now able to 
 be moved. I should remain but a short time longer 
 '9
 
 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 beneath the roof that had so kindly sheltered me, and 
 those last days were filled with cheerful kindness from 
 my benefactors, and my heart was full of gratitude to all 
 of them. My couch was drawn to the window in the 
 evenings, and there, the night before I left, I had a long 
 and quiet talk with Dorothy. She told me of the move 
 ments of the British fleet, of the constant expectation of 
 a landing somewhere near New York, of his Excellency's 
 sleepless vigilance and his anxiety to protect the Hudson. 
 Having satisfied my eager appetite for every scrap of 
 news, aided by a word here and there from her grand 
 father, who sat near us, she went on to talk of homely 
 matters, and after that the old man heeded us no more. 
 So we talked there in the soft twilight, looking out 
 upon the garden, where only the nasturtiums had outlived 
 the heat, and in our ears were the low sounds of the 
 city, hushed at evening. It happened that we spoke 
 again of Salem and my childhood, and I told her, for the 
 first time, of my younger playmates, Joyce and Richard 
 Talbot, and she listened with warm interest. Her face 
 was fair and pale that night, and her brown eyes had the 
 shadows of the twilight in them. I told her of the sep 
 aration of the families and of Sir Anthony's death, and 
 the departure of Lady Talbot and Joyce. 
 
 "And you know not where they are now? " she asked 
 softly ; " you have no tidings from them ? " 
 w " Nay," I answered sadly, " the sword has cut com 
 munications off; but this I know, they were with the 
 fleet at Halifax." 
 
 "It may be, then, that they are at Staten Island now," 
 she said dreamily. 
 
 I started at the thought. " I would they were," I 
 cried with feeling; "to see her face would be indeed 
 a joy."
 
 AN ANGEL OF MERCY. 2QI 
 
 " Her face ? " she repeated quietly, her brown eyes 
 suddenly upon me. 
 
 Then I knew I was betrayed, and smiled, and felt the 
 telltale blood in my face. 
 
 " You mean Joyce Talbot's," she said in a low voice ; 
 " it is as I thought, you love her? " 
 
 " I have loved her nearly all my life," I answered 
 simply, moved to tell her because she was so sweet and 
 full of sympathy. 
 
 Rut I was disappointed by her manner of receiving 
 it ; her face was turned away from me, and she continued 
 to look earnestly from the window, and for a while said 
 nothing, so that I was half sorry for speaking, feeling 
 that she cared not for my trials. At last she turned and 
 there was a bright spot of color in her cheeks and her 
 eyes shone in the dim light. 
 
 " I thank you for your confidence, Captain Allen," 
 she said quietly. " Will you not tell me about Miss 
 Talbot? Is she very beautiful? Good and sweet, I 
 am sure, she must be." 
 
 And this touched my heart, and I told her many 
 things of the past. 
 
 " She is beautiful to me," I said tenderly ; " but I am 
 her lover, so it may be I cannot judge." 
 
 " Nay," said Dorothy, sweetly, " love is our best 
 judge ; love sees the noblest side of our natures, our 
 fairest smiles. Beautiful she is, then, but what color are her 
 eyes, her hair? Truly, a woman always likes to know." 
 
 " Her eyes," I answered, with a lingering joy in speak 
 ing of her again, " her eyes are like the sky, blue some 
 times, sometimes gray, and they can smile and frown and 
 threaten and rejoice, as I have never seen any eyes but 
 hers. Her hair why, Miss Wayne, I had nearly said 
 that it was brown like yours, but then there is a touch
 
 292 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 upon it as if the sun had shone brightly on its wavy 
 tresses." 
 
 For a while after this she sat silent, and then she asked 
 me, smiling, how tall she was. 
 
 " What is it that Shakespeare saith ? " I answered 
 softly, "'just as high as my heart.'" 
 
 Dorothy rose and stood looking at me, her brown eyes 
 still shining, but the sudden color faded from her cheeks. 
 
 "I esteem her happy, Mr. Allen," she said softly, 
 " for, verily, you love her, and it is a great happiness, and 
 also, as I think, a great blessing to be so steadfastly 
 beloved." 
 
 With this she left me and went out, nor did I see her 
 again that evening, and the next day she was ill, or so 
 they said. But when I went away at last, just before 
 the enemy landed at Kip's Bay, she came to bid me 
 good-bye and was more gentle than ever. As we parted, 
 she gave me an assurance that rejoiced my heart. 
 
 It was when I held her hand at parting that she said 
 to me in a low tone, " If Miss Talbot comes to New 
 York, I will find the means to send the tidings to you." 
 
 I thanked her warmly, and called her my good angel ; 
 at this she laughed and blushed. 
 
 " Nay," she said, " I am but an attendant spirit ; your 
 angel's eyes are of the color of the sky." 
 
 " And you will befriend her here? " I asked eagerly. 
 
 " She will not need it," she replied ; " but truly, I will 
 be her friend if she will let me. This I promise." 
 
 So we parted, and she watched me, standing on the 
 doorstep shading her eyes with her hands, and her white 
 gown dazzling in the September sun. While we drove 
 away, I looked back and waved my hat, and in my heart 
 blessed her for ail her kindness, which had been that of 
 a dear sister.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 TIDINGS. 
 
 I WAS removed to a farmhouse above King's Bridge, 
 and lay there the day that our troops were forced to 
 retreat to Harlem Heights. Sorely I fretted, too, at my 
 inactivity, but had the hope now to console me that 
 before many days I could be again in the saddle. Tid 
 ings came to even that quiet retreat of the great events 
 at New York, and I and my rustic attendants waited 
 with eager anxiety for every word that brought us infor 
 mation. I heard, with shame, of the confusion and 
 flight of the New England troops from their intrench- 
 ments when the British landed between Turtle and Kip's 
 Bays. At the sound of the cannonade from the ships, 
 General Washington had spurred in hot haste to the 
 scene of action. They told me, afterwards, of his wrath 
 and his despair when, riding up from Althorpe's house 
 on the Bloomingdale road, he met the fugitives in the 
 cornfield behind Murray's estate. He tried in vain to 
 rally them, to drive them back, but at the sight of half 
 a dozen redcoats, they turned again and ran like sheep. 
 In vain his Excellency called to them, struck at them 
 with his sword ; no earthly power could rally them, and 
 it was said that he flung his hat upon the ground and 
 cried out, in one of his wild outbursts of passion, " Are 
 these the men with whom I am to defend America?" 
 So distracted was he with grief and anger, that he con 
 sidered not the peril of the hour, exposing his own per-
 
 294 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 son to death or capture. When the enemy was within 
 some eighty yards, his aide-de-camp caught his horse's 
 bridle and led him from the field. What is one man's 
 heroism in the face of the cowardice of hundreds? Hap 
 pily, he failed not in the effort to secure Harlem Heights, 
 and so prevented the enemy from cutting his army in two. 
 General Putnam brought off the troops and women and 
 children from New York, but he was forced to abandon 
 much food and ammunition. In the great heat and 
 dust, the brave old man led his army along the Bloom- 
 ingdale road under the fire of the enemy's guns, and 
 brought them at last to Harlem. It was ever said that 
 save for Mrs. Murray he would have been destroyed. 
 She, good woman, kept Sir William Howe and his 
 officers at Murray Hill, eating and drinking, while her 
 weary and despairing countrymen effected their escape. 
 Never did wine and cake a greater service to a country's 
 cause, and a strong man may not despise a woman's 
 gentler wiles, since sometimes they prevail where the 
 sword would be snapped asunder. After the retreat the 
 army took position below Fort Washington, its lines ex 
 tending from Harlem River to the Hudson and with 
 King's Bridge in their rear, securing the only pass from 
 Manhattan to the mainland. Here it was that before 
 many days the enemy insulted us by appearing in 
 triumph and winding their bugles as they do after a fox 
 hunt. General Washington was deeply mortified thereat, 
 and the poorest of us felt the insult. Mayhap, though, 
 it had a fortunate effect, since the men were shamed, and 
 there was a successful skirmish made, our troops nearly 
 cutting off their detachment and driving them at last 
 into the open plains, although we paid dearly for it, 
 losing two brave officers, Knowlton and Leitch. But 
 the honor of Connecticut was redeemed.
 
 TJD/fVGS. 295 
 
 It was upon a Saturday night late in September that 
 the great fire broke out in New York which the British 
 laid to our charge, though we were innocent, and lamented 
 the loss and suffering in the devoted town. It was a strange 
 sight, all the heavens being crimson with the mighty re 
 flection, and the American camp watched through the 
 night and marvelled, knowing not the cause. In the 
 morning a black cloud floated where there had been flame, 
 and we heard the tidings from the British, who sent out a 
 flag in the morning for the purpose of a conference in 
 regard to the exchange of prisoners, which both sides 
 desired. Our poor men captured by them had been 
 crowded into the sugar-houses and the churches of 
 New York, and in the great heat were many of them 
 in sore distress. The English coming to confer about 
 the exchange told us that a mighty fire had broken 
 out at one of the clock that morning, and they hinted 
 that the Whigs were the incendiaries. Indignant as 
 the patriots then were at the charge, they were yet 
 more so afterwards, when they heard that the Ministerial 
 soldiers had been cruel to many poor creatures ; sus 
 pecting them of firing the town, they had bayoneted 
 them and cast them in the flames, and one man as it 
 happened, a good Tory they did hang by the heels 
 until he died. It is thus ever in great excitement ; 
 men's passions overleap all decency, and horrid enor 
 mities are committed which they are ashamed to father 
 at more sober moments. The damage done in the 
 city had been very great ; the fire had started not 
 far below the Common, upon the side toward the Hud 
 son, and had burned a clean path across to the East 
 River, above the Battery, to Whitehall's Slip. Trinity 
 Church was gone, but Saint Paul's had been saved by the 
 efforts of those who stood upon the roof and threw the
 
 296 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 flaming embers from it as they fell. Much property 
 had gone, and many of the poor would be homeless, 
 while the rich had suffered greatly. When I heard it, my 
 first anxiety was for the Waynes, and I rejoiced to hear 
 that their hospitable roof had escaped uninjured. 
 
 One good was achieved by the conference that Sep 
 tember morning, since we obtained a partial exchange 
 of prisoners, and Lord Stirling was among them. We 
 were again, however, at a crisis ; the eternal question of 
 too brief enlistments came to trouble our commander ; 
 but finally, through his eloquent persuasion, Congress at 
 last organized the army upon a permanent footing, and 
 one besetting evil was thus partially relieved. Mean 
 while the enemy remained strangely inactive, and per 
 plexed us much to endeavor to solve their intentions. 
 One thing we learned too easily, and that was the large 
 enlistments, continually swelling, of Tories of Long 
 Island ; one De Lancey, a New York royalist, was at 
 Jamaica on the island, offering the king's commission 
 to any reputable man who would raise a regiment. 
 These Tories were indeed our most vindictive enemies, 
 the serpents we had nourished in our bosoms. 
 
 Early in October the royal ships, three in number, 
 the Phoenix, the Roebuck, and the Tartar, which had 
 lain opposite Bloomingdale, and had so distressed Gen 
 eral Putnam's army, got under sail one morning, and as 
 cending the Hudson carried terror and confusion with 
 them toward the Highlands. Great efforts had been 
 made to bar the river against these hostile ships, but 
 they passed through the chevaux-de-frise as through a 
 cobweb, and sank a submarine machine which lay upon 
 a sloop to be used against them. Though raked by our 
 guns upon the shore, they sailed proudly on unharmed, 
 spreading terror upon the country-side. They plun-
 
 TIDINGS. 297 
 
 dered our stores at Dobbs' Ferry and went on to the 
 Tappan Zee. Now came rumors that the Tories were 
 arming and gathering in the Highlands, and truly we 
 were beset on every hand. 
 
 Happily, I was recovered sufficiently from my wounds 
 to be in the saddle by the first weeks of October. Thank 
 ful was I to be once more at liberty, for I had felt my 
 self the veriest prisoner. Now, when every man was 
 needed, it was a grievous thing to be upon the sick- 
 list. I was cordially and kindly received at headquar 
 ters, and his Excellency said a few kind words to me 
 that were the more esteemed because he so seldom be 
 stowed commendation, and never unless he believed that 
 it was merited. 
 
 In those days I had many duties, and but little time 
 for any thought save of my orders. I was often in the 
 saddle for the greater part of the day, although my 
 scarcely healed wounds yet troubled me a little ; but the 
 fresh October air gave me new life. 
 
 One errand of the general's carried me up in the 
 Highlands. Evading the Tappan Zee, where lay the 
 king's ships, I rode along the shore past King's Ferry 
 and Dunderberg to Fort Clinton. I carried a message 
 to Colonel James Clinton, and my business kept me for 
 a day or more in the midst of that wild and splendid 
 scenery. Around me, the gloomy heights loomed in 
 sad magnificence, the glory of the summer departed 
 from them, but a splendor, as of flame, upon their 
 slopes, and the river flowing through the defiles in 
 quiet beauty, though it was the object desired by two 
 armies, and the key, as it seemed to us, of the United 
 Colonies. 
 
 When I returned to our lines at Harlem Heights, it 
 was evening, and I paused only to leave my horse at my
 
 298 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER, 
 
 own tent, and went at once to the marquee of our com 
 mander, where I found him and General Putnam and 
 young Alexander Hamilton. In this presence I dis 
 charged my errand and received the general's acknowl 
 edgments. Excusing myself from the kind invitation 
 to remain, I went to my own quarters, tired, and feeling 
 the dull ache of my most troublesome wound. But I 
 was destined to find tidings there that would arouse me 
 from my languor and give me a new interest. Ephraim, 
 whom as usual I had left in charge of my belongings, 
 gave me a letter from Dorothy Wayne, the first that I 
 had ever received from her, and I was not a little 
 curious of its contents. It was but a few lines, how 
 ever, of greeting, and then these words that made the 
 letter beautiful to me, 
 
 " Miss Joyce Talbot is here. She and her mother came, 
 with the other Tories, from Halifax, and they are lodged in 
 a house near the Battery but a short distance from the Hud 
 son. More I know not, save that they are well, and in the 
 charge, I believe, of Mr. Howe." 
 
 Joyce in New York ! I went to the door of my tent 
 and looked out into the darkness and watched the stars, 
 rejoicing ; yet wherefore, I knew not, since a great gulf 
 was still set between us. Yet she was near me, no longer 
 in Halifax, and surely, I reflected, no longer beyond my 
 reach. Already a vague scheme of reaching her flashed 
 upon me, and I had no other thought than to find my 
 opportunity. No blockade was ever yet effectual against 
 love's devices, and I was determined to find a way, hav 
 ing the will to do it. I questioned Ephraim sharply as 
 to the manner of the coming of the letter, but got but 
 little satisfaction. A countryman had brought it, per 
 mitted to leave New York because his presence was not 
 useful, Ephraim thought, and he was too great a coward
 
 TIDINGS. 299 
 
 to be impressed into the service upon either side. After 
 all, it mattered little, I reflected, since I had the letter, and 
 I would not try to solve the problem. Verily, I had one 
 more knotty of my own. I had resolved to see Joyce, 
 and to see her as soon as might be, for when did love 
 ever suffer a delay? At first I thought to accomplish 
 my purpose alone and unaided, but after all was forced 
 to call upon the faithful and resourceful Ephraim for the 
 means to achieve it ; and he, ever ready to enter upon 
 any enterprise, was not behind in his advice and aid. 
 First, we schemed to enter the city by the land side, 
 but abandoned this as impracticable, in face of the senti 
 nels ; the approach by water was the easier, too, and Doro 
 thy Wayne had said the house lay near the Hudson River. 
 To find it would necessitate a visit to the Waynes, which 
 increased the risks ; but happily this was adjusted, since I 
 learned from a prisoner who had been exchanged where 
 Captain Talbot's house lay, and found it nearer to the 
 water than I had hoped. After this, our arrangements 
 went on merrily, although I was unwilling to let Ephraim 
 share the peril ; yet would he take no refusal, and since he 
 had but to remain in the boat, I at last consented. I 
 lacked only the permission for my absence from the 
 camp, and this was not so easily obtained. However, 
 leave was at last granted upon the very night that I 
 would have chosen above all others, since it was intensely 
 dark and threatening, but it stormed not, and the tide was 
 running smooth, so that a dory would have an easy course. 
 Ephraim, too, was in the humor for a secret enterprise, 
 and we primed our weapons cheerfully, and set out, like 
 two school-boys that were bent on some new mischief. 
 We had secured a stout little boat, and muffling our oars, 
 we dropped down the river silently toward the town.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 LOVE'S ENTERPRISE. 
 
 WE pulled down the Hudson, keeping a little from the 
 shore that our boat might escape the vigilance of the 
 sentries. Our muffled oars dipped softly in the water, 
 and in the stillness we could hear the sounds from the 
 shore. We passed in sight of Lispenard's meadows, and 
 my mind went back to the scene at Corbie's Tavern; 
 from there the row down to Paulus Hook was swift and 
 quiet, and then we drew nearer to the shore. On this 
 side the great fire had swept the town, and blackened 
 ruins lay where but a short while since were homes. 
 Beyond this open space the lights burned brightly in 
 the windows of many houses, and there was the stir of 
 busy life in the distant streets. We rowed in under the 
 shore and came gently down toward the Battery ; here 
 was the house, near to Kennedy's, which had been Gen 
 eral Putnam's quarters. In the rear was the open space, 
 desolated by the fire, and some quiet gardens behind 
 dwellings that yet remained. The spot was favorable 
 for any daring project, and we two conspirators sat for a 
 while in our boat and listened. But we had aroused no 
 one ; no figure moved upon the bank, no sentinel's shrill 
 call was heard. Satisfied that we were undiscovered, I 
 felt for my weapon, and bidding Ephraim watch for my 
 first signal, left him in the boat and leaped upon the 
 shore. Once there, I felt that the chances of discovery 
 were far less, in the dark night, and following the di-
 
 LOVE'S ENTERPRISE. 30 1 
 
 rections that I had received, I walked in the direction of 
 the Battery, until I came to the house that had been des 
 ignated. Here I found a large garden surrounded by a 
 low wall, over which I swung myself with ease, and tread 
 ing softly amid the fallen leaves, made my way toward the 
 windows in the rear. On one side the house was dark ; 
 upon the other, happily the side upon the garden, the 
 windows were lighted, and two of them were open. I 
 remember that I stumbled once or twice in the strange 
 place, and thought, at the moment, that if Laddie was 
 with them I was betrayed. In this respect, however, 
 fortune favored me, for the dog was out upon the streets 
 with Dick, as I afterwards learned. A late rose was 
 blooming by the window I approached, and the delicate 
 fragrance made the night air sweet. The window-sill 
 was low, and, standing back that no gleam of light 
 might shine upon my face, I looked eagerly into the 
 room, being sharply disappointed to find it vacant. 
 Low-ceiled and wainscoted with mahogany, the room was 
 plain and dull, yet something in its appearance seemed 
 familiar, an atmosphere of home that I recognized in 
 tuitively, and I felt that I had made no error; on the 
 table, too, stood a tall vase full of late roses and some 
 sprays of mignonette, an open book beside it, and around 
 being other signs of recent occupation. Presently I was 
 conscious of the sound of voices coming from the room 
 beyond, the door of which stood open. While I was 
 endeavoring to recognize the tones, they drew nearer, 
 and two figures emerged from the doorway. The first was 
 Joyce, and the last I knew with quick resentment ; it was 
 Beresford. I looked eagerly at my love, and saw no 
 change ; her face was as lovely as it had been when we 
 parted, but she was far more elaborately attired. Her pow 
 dered hair was arranged with flowers, and her white neck
 
 302 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 was bare, looking yet more white by contrast with her 
 black frock and the black ribbon fastened around her full 
 white throat. There was a flush of color on her cheeks, 
 and her blue eyes sparkled, I thought with anger, as she 
 moved across the room and paused beside the table. 
 It was evident that Beresford had been lately upon 
 duty, for he wore his uniform, and his sword hung at 
 his side. His whole appearance was, as ever, that of a 
 young dandy, from his faultlessly powdered hair to his 
 polished weapon and shining epaulettes ; his scarlet coat 
 was dazzling, by contrast, in the quiet room ; in my heart, 
 I was forced to acknowledge that he held himself well 
 and was every inch a soldier. His features were clear- 
 cut and good to look upon, and I watched him follow 
 Joyce with a sharp pang of jealousy and anger. In my 
 eagerness I forgot that I seemed but a spy and eaves 
 dropper, and stood there for a brief space, too angry 
 and too much surprised to recollect the meanness of 
 such a position. Joyce paused at the table, and draw 
 ing a rose from the vase stood looking at it absently, her 
 nervous fingers caressing its creamy petals all uncon 
 sciously. Beresford, approaching the table also, watched 
 her a little time in silence ; then I saw him smile, although 
 she did not, and I hated him the more for the assurance 
 of that smile. 
 
 " Miss Talbot," he said softly, but not so low that my 
 jealous ears did not catch the words, " have you no 
 answer? Surely, I have a right to look for one. I have 
 endured with patience, and you have known that I loved 
 you ! " 
 
 She spoke not, but stood frowning at the rose, and I 
 saw her fingers tremble. 
 
 "Joyce," he said with more confidence, nay, I 
 thought impertinence, " Joyce, I love you ! "
 
 LOVE'S ENTERPRISE. 303 
 
 And with this he tried to take her hand, and I put 
 my foot upon the outer edge of the window-sill. But 
 she drew back and looked at him defiantly, her blue eyes 
 bright, I hoped with anger. 
 
 " You have had my answer, Mr. Beresford," she said. 
 
 " Think better of it, Joyce," he replied with an air of 
 unbelief in her sincerity. " I do not think you mean to 
 send me away now ! " 
 
 " What do you think, then?" she asked haughtily, a 
 bright color in her cheeks. 
 
 " I will not believe that you still care for that renegade 
 Yankee," he said contemptuously, " that you will slight 
 the king's soldier for a rebel ! " 
 
 " You know little of my thoughts," she answered 
 lightly ; " it may be that I, too, am a rebel." 
 
 " Nay," he said, " you have a woman's heart and you 
 will forget a childish fancy, long since outgrown. What 
 is this Yankee ? A rebel, a canting hypocrite, a coward 
 who dare not return to win you ! He dare not face me, 
 this lover of yours, this Allen " 
 
 " The Yankee Allen is at your service, sir ! " I cried, 
 springing into the room and casting my hat upon the 
 floor. 
 
 Joyce cried out with surprise and terror, while Beres 
 ford half bared his sword. I glanced from one to the 
 other in silence, and my heart burned within me, for I 
 was blind with jealousy and anger. Joyce stood with 
 her clasped hands pressed against her breast, and her 
 startled eyes upon my face, only half believing that she 
 saw me, and not a vision ; while Beresford, no less aston 
 ished, stared at me in bewilderment, his taunt silenced 
 upon his lips. I took no heed of him, but addressed 
 myself to her, and I fear that my voice as well as my 
 words were harsh.
 
 304 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " I seem an unwelcome as well as an unlooked-for 
 guest here, Miss Talbot," I said, laughing bitterly, " and 
 yet your friend but now was eager to conjure up a 
 rebel visitor." 
 
 " A rebel eavesdropper ! " retorted Beresford, with a 
 scornful accent ; " truly, your occupation, sir, befits your 
 calling." 
 
 My face burned as with fire, and involuntarily my hand 
 went to my sword. 
 
 " You lie, sir ! " I retorted hotly, " and elsewhere you 
 would answer for it." 
 
 " That may be," he replied tauntingly. " But I fancy 
 your courage is greatest in the presence of a woman ; it 
 is ever so with spies and cowards." 
 
 " Now, by Heaven ! " I cried passionately, " you shall 
 find yourself mistaken to your sorrow." 
 
 Joyce, recovering from the shock of her surprise, 
 moved between us. 
 
 " Hush ! " she said imperatively ; " you are both brave 
 men, and it is a shame upon you to so insult each other. 
 This is my house, and I forbid it ! Mr. Beresford, this is 
 an honest and a gallant gentleman, and I am willing to 
 pledge my faith that, however he came here to-night, it 
 was not as a spy." 
 
 Beresford bowed gravely to her, but his eyes were 
 hard. 
 
 " I would take your word against the world, Miss 
 Talbot," he said courteously, '' and I doubt not that 
 there was an ample excuse for Mr. Allen's presence in 
 your garden. I can easily pardon any man for the 
 desire to see you." 
 
 At this, Joyce's face flamed red as mine, but she made 
 him a little curtsy. Then she turned to me, and her 
 blue eyes searched my face with sharp anxiety.
 
 LOVE'S ENTERPRISE. 305 
 
 " And you," she said, and my quick ear caught the 
 quiver in her voice, " for old friendship's sake I can de 
 mand that you quarrel not with any one beneath my 
 roof." 
 
 " A hard condition, madam," Beresford remarked, 
 smiling bitterly, " considering the relation in which Mr. 
 Allen and I stand to each other." 
 
 She turned upon him quickly, and I saw all the color 
 leave her cheeks. 
 
 " Nay," she said in a low voice ; " a reproach is un 
 worthy of you, Mr. Beresford, since he is in your power." 
 
 Then I understood her great agitation, and started at 
 the thought that she was interceding for my safety. 
 
 "That concerns you not," I said to her hastily. "I 
 am able to fight my own battles and to bear the conse 
 quences of my acts." 
 
 But Beresford heeded me not ; he was looking at her 
 excited face and quivering hands. 
 
 " Have no fear, Miss Talbot," he said coldly. ^" As I 
 understand it, Mr. Allen's errand here is only to see old 
 friends and of a private nature, and if he can so assure 
 me, he is safe to speedily depart." 
 
 " I will make no explanation to you, sir," 1 retorted 
 proudly ; " my errand was honorable, and I am no spy to 
 give an account to you or any one." 
 
 He looked at me and smiled coldly, but Joyce stepped 
 between. 
 
 " He came to see me ! " she cried, her voice thrilling 
 with emotion, " and he is in your hands ; you cannot 
 you shall not betray him ! " 
 
 " I am a British officer, Miss Talbot," Beresford re 
 plied proudly, " and you have trusted me ; you may 
 rely upon my honor. I have never yet stooped to the 
 office of an informer." 
 
 20
 
 306 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " I thank you," she said in a low voice, " from my 
 heart ! " 
 
 Now this was more than I could bear : the fellow was 
 winning her gratitude. 
 
 "There is no need for your intercession," I said bit 
 terly ; " I am quite ready to abide the consequence. Mr. 
 Beresford's generosity is not acceptable." 
 
 " For shame ! " she whispered with a reproachful 
 glance ; " I thought you more generous, more just ! " 
 
 " My presence destroys Mr. Allen's courtesy," Beres- 
 ford said in a scornful tone ; he was furious at the sight 
 of her friendship for me. " Miss Talbot, I bid you both 
 good evening, and I only desire to warn your friend 
 that a lengthy stay in the town may be attended with 
 evil consequences, despite my forbearance." 
 
 " 1 thank you, sir," I retorted coldly ; " I am content 
 to run my own risks, nor do I so greatly fear the dangers 
 here." 
 
 " I congratulate you, sir, upon your courage and the 
 warmth of your welcome," he replied with an angry 
 glance, and then bowing to us both, he turned on his 
 heel and left the room.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 A LOVERS' QUARREL. 
 
 As* the door closed behind Beresford, Joyce turned 
 to me. 
 
 " Oh, John ! " she cried, " how came you here, in 
 the midst of such peril ? " 
 
 I looked at her with jealousy burning at my heart, and 
 something in my glance arrested her approach and she 
 stood regarding me with startled eyes. 
 
 " I came to see you, Joyce," I said coldly, " and had 
 no thought of finding you so pleasantly entertained. 
 I do assure you that I did not come to play a spy 
 upon you." 
 
 She looked at me with passionate reproach in her 
 blue eyes. 
 
 " Do you think so ill of me as to imagine that I would 
 believe you capable of such conduct?" she exclaimed; 
 " if you have a bad opinion of me, I have not lost my 
 trust in you ! " 
 
 But even this did not melt my mood ; love's besetting 
 sin being ever jealousy. 
 
 "My opinion is not ill of you," I answered bitterly; 
 " it is rather higher, in that I appreciate your ready 
 wit in adapting yourself to the circumstances and find 
 ing a lover always on the winning side." 
 
 At this, the color came into her cheeks and her 
 eyes sparkled with their old spirit.
 
 3O8 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " Verily," she retorted quickly, " I might readily find 
 a kinder visitor ; did you come here, at the peril of your 
 life, to reproach me unjustly and without reason?" 
 
 " Nay," I said sadly, " I came to see the woman I 
 love and found her listening to the wooing of another 
 man, and that man my enemy." 
 
 Her temper, ever as quick as a flash in straw, fired at 
 my words, and she stood tapping the floor with her 
 impatient little foot, but gave me no answer save a 
 glance that was more full of significance than words. 
 But I was angry, and stung with disappointment, and 
 would speak my mind. 
 
 " When we parted at Marblehead," I said reproach 
 fully, " it was as lovers part yet you told me nothing 
 of your intended flight ; you left me without a word or 
 sign, but I loved you well enough to believe that this 
 was no fault of yours. When you came here, too, it was 
 not you who sent me word, but a stranger a new 
 friend" 
 
 " Ay, a woman ! " she flashed out so suddenly that 
 I started. " I know who told you ; it -was your friend 
 Dorothy Wayne. I have heard it said that you were 
 head over ears in love with her." 
 
 Now was it my turn to gaze at her in amazement ; 
 I, who had never been charged with a lack of faithful 
 ness, was utterly confounded by the suddenness and 
 novelty of the attack. 
 
 "In love with Dorothy?" I repeated slowly; " I am 
 at a loss to understand such an accusation." 
 
 She darted an indignant glance at me. 
 
 " It is well," she said scornfully, " to assume ignorance, 
 but from all I hear you were neither so dull nor so 
 backward with Miss Wayne." 
 
 " Doubtless this man, Beresford, has been filling your
 
 A LOVERS' QUARREL. 309 
 
 ears with idle nonsense," I said with rising anger; "I 
 in love with Dorothy ! It is absurd." 
 
 "Others do not think it so," she answered coldly, 
 averting her face. " I congratulate you upon your 
 choice ; I have seen her, and she is a lovely woman." 
 
 "She is indeed," I replied, with more haste than 
 thought, " and too wise to falsely accuse a man who 
 loved her, of disloyalty." 
 
 " I trust then," she said in a strange voice, " that you 
 will not constantly accuse her of a breach of faith ! " 
 
 Suddenly I saw how my jealousy had betrayed me 
 into forgetfulness of justice, and my heart reproached 
 me ; but we were both angry still. 
 
 " I cannot fancy Miss Wayne playing the coquette," 
 I said with truthfulness. 
 
 "Why don't you go to this paragon?" cried Joyce, 
 suddenly stamping her foot at me, her face crimson with 
 emotion ; " why do you come here at all ? " 
 
 " I came," I said slowly, " because I loved you 
 I have ever loved you, but I see that you have no real 
 love for me." 
 
 " Nay," she answered proudly, " you loved me once, 
 perhaps ; but now it is this other woman, and I have 
 pride enough, thank Heaven, to want no other woman's 
 lover? Therefore, go ! " 
 
 She was looking at me with shining eyes, her little 
 hands clenched at her sides and her head thrown back. 
 I remembered her in just such an attitude in her child- 
 hpod, when she had been intensely angry at Dick and 
 me over some childish quarrel and had turned upon 
 us like a little fury. But her words stung me like a 
 whip. 
 
 " If you wish me to go," I said quietly, " I will obey 
 you."
 
 310 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " I have said so," she cried passionately ; " go to 
 Dorothy Wayne ! " 
 
 " Not to her," I replied with dignity, " for I do not 
 love her but to return to the camp at Harlem, and 
 there to remember that I have lost my love forever ! 
 Farewell, Joyce." 
 
 She said nothing, and I turned and walked slowly to 
 the window ; my jealousy was passing away in the sharp 
 pain I felt at her words. I had my foot upon the sill, 
 when, turning once more, I saw her with her face hidden 
 in her hands. I hesitated, and in the pause heard her 
 sobs. In a moment I had sprung across the room to 
 her side, and found that she was weeping bitterly. 
 
 " Joyce ! " I cried, " is it possible that you care? " 
 
 "Oh!" she said between her sobs, "you you are 
 a brute ! " 
 
 At this, I took her in my arms, in spite of her resist 
 ance, and tried to kiss away her tears ; but she had 
 broken down completely and lay weeping on my shoulder 
 like a child. 
 
 " My darling," I said, " why is it that we always 
 quarrel? Is it indeed true that you love me and not 
 that gay officer? " 
 
 "You do not deserve it," she moaned ; "you are the 
 most jealous, dull, provoking man that ever breathed, 
 and yet " here she sobbed again "I am such a 
 fool," she said, "that I love you still." 
 
 Now, I was so rejoiced at her words that I forgot to 
 be angry at her own provoking ways. For the moment 
 I did nothing but stroke her hair and kiss her, while 
 I tried to assure her of my own loyalty and devotion, 
 which I think she had never really doubted, though she 
 retaliated because of my own persistent reproaches. 
 So it was that we made peace, and she found time to
 
 A LOVERS' QUARREL. 311 
 
 look at my face and see the signs of illness from my 
 recent wounds. And she caressed me and fretted over 
 the hollows in my cheeks, and told me penitently now 
 of how she had heard of Dorothy Wayne's care of me 
 and been wicked enough to be jealous, because any 
 woman had, even for a season, usurped her place. At 
 which I told her that I had sung her praises to Dorothy 
 until I was sure that she wearied of me as a dull fellow 
 with no thought but of my love. 
 
 Joyce told me, after this, of Dorothy's visit to her, 
 and how sweetly she had spoken of my desire that they 
 should be friends, having tried, too, to be kind to my 
 little sweetheart, receiving however, I fancied, but small 
 encouragement. Joyce told me, also, of their sudden 
 departure from Marblehead ; how Dick had come for 
 them in disguise, urging their immediate flight, and she 
 had been forced to go without finding a safe messenger 
 to bear the tidings to me. I heard, too, of their stay at 
 Halifax, and of Dick's duel which had brought him under 
 Sir William Howe's displeasure, and now he was treated 
 with less consideration than formerly, and had been 
 passed by in the orders of promotion, though serving as 
 bravely as the others who were advanced before him. 
 All this fretted the hot Talbot temper, and Dick disliked, 
 too, the thought of the Hessians being hired to fight 
 against the king's own subjects ; so, as Joyce told me, 
 they were not in favor at headquarters, and were often 
 made uneasy by Dick's disposition to quarrel with his 
 superiors. Lady Talbot had been unwell, and this had 
 increased Joyce's responsibility, so my reproaches had 
 found her in no mood to endure them. All this she 
 told me, and much more, while we sat there for one brief, 
 happy hour, forgetful of everything but our love for each 
 other. But after a while we remembered the inevitable
 
 312 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 parting ; the clock struck in the hall, and I thought, with 
 a pang of self-reproach, of poor Ephraim sitting in the 
 open boat by the bank, in imminent peril of discovery. 
 Yet I lingered, happy in the sight of her sweet face and 
 the tenderness in her blue eyes, since for this hour she 
 was the Joyce of old days and h.id no thought of king 
 or rebel happily, save one. The softness of her mood 
 told me, more plainly than words, how glad she was to 
 see me again, and I forgot my duty and poor Minot's 
 patient danger, to stay beside her and to feel her warm 
 soft cheek against my own. Lovers are ever selfish, so 
 it seems to me ; yet, since love is like to suffer much, it 
 has also some right to be happy while it may, in this 
 thorny world. But the hour of parting approached but 
 too swiftly, and I could count the minutes in the beating 
 of my heart. 
 
 "Joyce," I whispered, "you can quarrel with me no 
 more forever ! Not even the king shall come between 
 us again." 
 
 Whereat she smiled up at me saucily, and shook her 
 finger at me. 
 
 " You are a rebel, sir," she said, with an attempt at 
 sternness which failed, for the dimple came in her cheek 
 again. " I feel that it is against my allegiance to love 
 you, yet I am wicked enough to do it." 
 
 " You said a little while ago that you were a fool to 
 love me," I remarked playfully, " and now you are 
 wicked. It may be a sin, but, happily, I love the sinner 
 too well to see it in that light. But truly, Joyce, we will 
 not let this wretched difference between your family and 
 mine destroy our happiness; this must end it shall 
 end, at last." 
 
 But her face had grown serious at the thought of all 
 our difficulties, and she shook her head.
 
 A LOVERS' QUARREL. 313 
 
 "Alas ! " she said softly, persuasively, "if you were but 
 of our opinion, all would be well." 
 
 " And that I cannot be, dear heart," I answered ten 
 derly ; " you love me, but I am a rebel still ! " 
 
 She smiled a little, but sighed too. 
 
 " In the old days," she said, " the good old days, a 
 knight would fight for the lady of his love ; but you 
 you are so matter of fact that you will even draw the 
 sword against my king and yours. I fear that no knight- 
 errant could have won his love in such a fashion." 
 
 " ' I could not love thee, dear, so much,' " I quoted 
 softly, from the old song, " loved I not honor more.' " 
 
 " And I," she said thoughtfully, stroking the buff 
 facings of my coat and glancing at my sword, "I a 
 Talbot love the king's rebel. ' Thy glory has de 
 parted, Israel ! ' " 
 
 " Nay," I said proudly, " you love a patriot, and pres 
 ently you shall not be ashamed to own it ! " 
 
 She clung to me with tears in her eyes ; never had I 
 seen her in so tender a mood. 
 
 " Do you think I am ashamed of you ? " she said in 
 a low voice ; " nay, sir, I am proud of you and I have 
 ever been so ! " 
 
 " Oh, Joyce ! " I cried gladly, " and you have called me 
 ' rebel,' ' traitor,' ' turncoat ' I know not what." 
 
 "Ay," she said, smiling through her tears, "and all 
 the_while I loved you ! " 
 
 Almost as she spoke, we heard the outer door open 
 with much noise and the sound of voices in the hall. 
 The next moment, Laddie came bounding in the room, 
 and sprang upon us both in the abandon of joyful greet 
 ing ; but Joyce was filled with alarm. 
 
 " It is Dick," she whispered, " and, no doubt, some of 
 the officers with him if they come here "
 
 314 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 She paused and held my arm in her two hands, trem 
 bling and listening. " If they find you," she said wildly, 
 " they will call you a spy ! " 
 
 We heard them cross the hall and go into a room 
 upon the further side, and then she pushed me toward 
 the window. 
 
 " Go, go ! " she cried softly, " now is the chance. Oh, 
 John, we have done wrong to linger there may be an 
 orderly in the garden anywhere ! " 
 
 "Fear not for me, my darling," I said tenderly, "all 
 will go well and I would risk more to see you." 
 
 But she was too alarmed at the thought of my danger 
 to do more than cling to me with her face white and 
 her lips quivering. 
 
 " I will go with you through the garden," she cried ; 
 " at least, so far I may protect you." 
 
 If I had had the heart I could have laughed at the 
 thought of her as a protector, but now I only kissed 
 her for the last time and sprang out into the night. 
 As I did so, the door opened at the end of the room 
 and I saw Dick and another officer upon the thresh 
 old. I paused an instant to observe how poor Joyce 
 would meet this new danger, fearing that she would 
 break down at the ordeal. But her natural spirit was 
 aroused, and recognizing my peril, she turned from the 
 window; I saw her go forward to greet them calmly, 
 
 and was proud of her in that moment of peril. For a 
 1 A 
 
 few brief moments I watched her standing there talk 
 ing with the stranger ; then seeing Dick come slowly 
 toward the window, I turned, and walking rapidly down 
 the garden, vaulted over the low wall, plunging into 
 the darkness beyond, and for the first time felt the 
 soft rain beating on my face.
 
 CHAFFER XXXIX. 
 
 A YOUNG TURNCOAT. 
 
 AFTER leaping the wall, I made my way more slowly, 
 for here, upon the river bank, I ran the risk of meeting 
 a sentry. The darkness and the rain, however, both 
 stood me in good stead, although I came near an en 
 counter with a party of three or four soldiers who were 
 lounging in the way. Happily, I heard their voices in 
 time to shrink back in the shadow of a friendly wall, a 
 fragment left standing from the great fire which had 
 wasted this quarter to the water's edge. Afterwards, 
 from this point upwards past Paulus Hook, they had 
 tents for the soldiers and others of the lower classes, 
 and it was known as " Canvas Town ; " ,a pestilent nest 
 of riot was it, and all disorders festered here, like a sore 
 in the municipal body. But, as ever, I tell two stories 
 rather than one. I passed these idle fellows safely, and 
 descending the bank with caution, looked about for 
 some time in the darkness without seeing my boat, nor 
 did I hear the slightest sound below me, but the soft 
 lapping of the tide. I whistled gently the old tune, 
 "The Echoing Horn," and was presently relieved by 
 an answering note upon the water. Then, even in the 
 blackness, which hung about us like a cloak, I per 
 ceived the vague outlines of the dory coming in. The 
 next moment it was alongside, and I stepped into it, 
 and grasping the other set of oars, helped Minot pull 
 away from shore. In view of the risk we ran, we had
 
 3l6 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 cause to be thankful for the ease with which we escaped, 
 and both breathed more freely when we had rowed out 
 a little way into the stream and turned the bow toward 
 Harlem. The rain was falling fast, and my heart smote 
 me for having left my "faithful friend so long exposed 
 to danger and discomfort. I asked his forgiveness the' 
 more heartily because I was happy, and love in its 
 blissful moments would be at peace with all the world. 
 
 " You had left the shore, Minot," I added ; " were 
 there any signs of watchfulness upon this side?" 
 
 "Well, not that I can say so, captain," Ephraim 
 replied, in his leisurely tone ; " to tell you the truth, I 
 fell asleep after you had been gone a spell, and I can 
 not rightly say what happened then." 
 
 " Asleep at your post," I said, smiling ; " that might 
 have proved a grievous matter for you." 
 
 " It might have," he admitted calmly, " but it did n't. 
 I woke up all to once and heard voices above me, talk 
 ing about some strange noise that had reached their 
 ears. As soon as they went away, whoever they were, 
 I pulled out a bit so that there should be no more 
 chance to find me at such close quarters." 
 
 " Mayhap they heard us land," I said thoughtfully. 
 
 " Maybe," he admitted, " and maybe not. I can't 
 say, but I did think that they might have heard me 
 snoring. I remember, when I was out in the forests 
 way off by the Ohio and there was one of those 
 trapper fellows with me, we used to sleep right on the 
 ground at night. The Indians and the wild animals, 
 they were all about us, thick as crows in a cornfield, 
 and the first time we slept so, the trapper got up and 
 took his gun and began to look for a beast in the 
 thicket. After a while, come to find out, it was me 
 sleeping a little heavy ; it may be that was what these
 
 A YOUNG TURNCOAT. 317 
 
 lobster backs heard to-night, I can't say that it 
 was n't." 
 
 " I am sorry, Ephraim," I said penitently, " that I 
 kept you so long waiting, but, at least, you were not 
 anxious for me." 
 
 " No," he replied calmly, " I thought you would get 
 through safe and, at any rate, it would n't help to fret 
 about you. If they were going to catch you, they 
 would, and I could never help it in the world ; so I 
 slept a bit, and all went well at last." 
 
 We pulled slowly and wearily up the Hudson, and 
 so came to our journey's end in safety, reporting for 
 duty in the morning with no sign of our late visit to the 
 heart of the enemy's camp. Only General Putnam 
 laughed a little when I told him of the ease with which 
 I had accomplished my purpose, and his answer was 
 that love would ever find out a way. It was the ease 
 with which I had entered the town that led afterwards 
 to the scheme to capture Sir Henry Clinton, when he 
 lodged in the same quarter at Kennedy's house. This 
 project was, however, never executed, because Colonel 
 Hamilton argued that we would but cut our own throats 
 by removing an enemy so little to be feared as Clinton 
 and thus make room for perhaps an abler man. 
 
 All this while we of the Continental army were per 
 plexed at the conduct of the enemy. We had been in 
 sore straits, and one sharp blow would perhaps have de 
 stroyed our greatest force and captured the Hudson, yet 
 Mr. Howe remained inactive, though in great strength. 
 We knew not where the next blow would be directed, 
 and General Washington feared an attack upon the 
 Jersey shore, and cautioned General Mercer, who had 
 command of the flying camp, to be watchful upon the 
 Neversink Heights and to observe the British fleet.
 
 318 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 Then came tidings that tents had been struck on Staten 
 Island and Howe landed, with a large detachment, at 
 Throg's Neck, with the intention, as we thought, of get 
 ting behind our army and thus cutting off our retreat into 
 the Highlands. At this time, against the wishes and 
 judgment of our best officers, Congress strongly urged 
 the holding of Fort Washington, which was thought 
 manifestly unwise in the face of the enemy's superior 
 force on land and water. It was determined to abandon 
 Manhattan Island for like reasons, and we fell back into 
 a strong position behind the Bronx, his Excellency trans 
 ferring his headquarters to White Plains. We lay above 
 King's Bridge between the Bronx and the Saw Mill 
 rivers, with White Plains above us. General Howe, 
 seeing his first enterprise thwarted, embarked his troops 
 and crossed to Pell's Point, from whence he moved 
 on New Rochelle, no doubt still purposing to outflank 
 us. 
 
 The autumn was now far advanced, and the winds 
 swept down fiercely from the gloomy Highlands, driving 
 the dead leaves before them, while the scarlet of the 
 sumach shone amongst the underbrush, here and there, 
 like the embers of the autumn fire burning low. 
 
 While we were abiding the sure approaches of the 
 foe, I was wholly taken by surprise at a new arrival in 
 our camp. It was on a fine morning after prayers, 
 and I had gone to my quarters for one of my pistols, 
 which I had left behind in a moment of thoughtlessness. 
 As I returned to my post of duty, I found a stir in camp. 
 A young man had ridden through the lines with one of 
 our officers and was gone to headquarters. It was re 
 ported that he was a redcoat, and there was no small 
 curiosity about him, since he came alone and unpro 
 tected by a flag. Rumor had it that he was a spy taken
 
 A YOUNG TURNCOAT. 319 
 
 in the act and would be hung, while others said that he 
 was one of General Howe's staff, and had surrendered 
 with important papers upon his person. No little ex 
 citement prevailed, yet the day wore on and no one's 
 curiosity was satisfied, and after a season the incident 
 was forgotten and men went about their duties soberly. 
 It was not until evening that I was any wiser than the 
 others, and my enlightenment happened after this manner. 
 It was the day before Lord Stirling started out upon his 
 expedition to entrap that renegade Rogers, who with 
 his Corps of Tories, called by the fine name of the 
 Queen's Rangers, was stationed at the left of the British 
 lines at Mamaroneck. Having served with Stirling at 
 the battle on Long Island, I desired to accompany him 
 upon this errand, hoping that we might retrieve some of 
 our evil fortune. But this I was denied, though promised 
 an opportunity to meet the enemy at no distant date. 
 Disappointed, therefore, in my efforts to gain permission 
 to join Stirling, as a volunteer, I was returning to my 
 quarters at dusk, and was unattended even by Ephraim. 
 Being wrapped in deep thought, I was startled at the 
 sudden approach of a stranger, whose face I saw but 
 dimly m the uncertain light, and whose plain dark dress 
 betrayed no signs of his military rank. 
 
 "Captain Allen, I believe," he said; and his voice, 
 from embarrassment or hesitation, faltered a little. 
 
 "Ay, sir, Captain Allen," I replied, a trifle curtly, 
 because I did not wish for company upon my way. 
 "What is your desire?" 
 
 " I have no desire to trouble you, sir," he replied 
 sharply, " if you wish to forget my claim to old 
 acquaintance." 
 
 At this, I knew him, both by his voice and his quick 
 tempered retort.
 
 320 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " Dick ! " I cried out in amazement, " how came you 
 here, and thus? " 
 
 " I am ashamed to speak the truth," he answered, 
 with boyish anger in his voice, " and to you whom I have 
 so often ill used for a like course." 
 
 It dawned upon me then, at once, that matters had 
 reached a climax, and Dick, with all his father's fiery 
 temper, had rebelled against his superiors and left the 
 king's service. As a boy, he had ever a warm heart but 
 a fickle mind, and held not strongly to any purpose. 
 In this, he and Sir Anthony were totally unlike, and it 
 had been the cause of many a quarrel between them. 
 Knowing the boy so well, and loving him with all his 
 faults, I could not find it in my heart to resent his evil 
 usage of me, nor would I reproach him for his own 
 change of sentiment. Rather did I endeavor to make 
 the road easy for his feet. 
 
 " I see it all, dear Richard," I said, laying my hand 
 upon his shoulder kindly ; " you have come to a better 
 mind and will no longer see your country oppressed by 
 an army half made up of hirelings. I am rejoiced to 
 welcome you to our ranks, and I am sure that you will 
 never regret your course." 
 
 " You are a good fellow, Allen ! " Dick said peni 
 tently. " I don't know another who would not have 
 thrown it in my teeth to pay off old scores. You 
 soften the matter much, but I know that I am but a 
 turncoat, yet would I fight against my own countrymen 
 no more." 
 
 " It is best to change a coat that is so ill a fit for the 
 wearer," I answered ; " you would never have drawn your 
 sword against us, had you given the matter thought at 
 first. But, tell me, where is your mother? and where 
 is Joyce? "
 
 A YOUNG TUKNCOAT. 321 
 
 I could not see his face in the darkness, but I knew 
 that there was a change in his manner. 
 
 "They are in New York, "he answered soberly enough. 
 
 " In New York ! " I exclaimed, " and you have 
 quitted the royal service how is this?" 
 
 " It happened quickly," he admitted, I thought with 
 some reluctance. " I was ordered to perform a service 
 that I regarded as unworthy of my name and I de 
 clined ; then followed a sharp discipline for insubordina 
 tion, and such words were spoken as I would not endure, 
 and I resigned." 
 
 " What was the service, Dick?" I asked softly, not a 
 little curious to try the boy's temper. 
 
 In the darkness, I could just discern the haughty 
 gesture with which he replied. 
 
 " They asked me to be nothing more and nothing less 
 than a spy of the lowest sort, and I replied that I was an 
 officer and a gentleman and would perform no such 
 office not for the king himself. It was an affront put 
 upon me by my enemies, and they have worked upon 
 the mind of General Howe to my ruin." 
 
 " And you resigned," I said, as he paused. 
 
 " Ay, on the instant." 
 
 " Then, in Heaven's name, why did you not take your 
 mother and Joyce from their midst?" I asked sharply. 
 
 " I resigned at Throg's Neck," he replied simply, 
 " and was going back to New York, with the hope of 
 withdrawing to Marblehead, but was warned by a friend 
 that I would be arrested if I returned to the town ; 
 indeed, I barely escaped arrest as it was. They in 
 tended to try me a second time by court-martial and 
 charge me with treachery I, who have never been 
 a traitor. Disgusted at the course pursued against 
 me I have been persecuted I left the camp and
 
 322 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 came to General Washington ; my sword is now at his 
 disposal." 
 
 I had well nigh smiled at his description of his wrongs ; 
 it was Dick's way ever to regard himself as a martyr 
 after he had stirred up the quarrel. But other matters 
 lay too heavy on my mind for the shadow of amusement. 
 
 " But your mother and your sister? " I persisted ; "all 
 this will fall heavily upon them, and they are now with 
 out a protector." 
 
 " I know it," he admitted peevishly, " but I cannot 
 help it. Sir William will let no ill befall them," he added 
 reluctantly ; " he has some friendship for them, though 
 none for me." 
 
 I could* have shaken the young coxcomb for his selfish 
 ness, but I forbore to speak. He had no thought but of 
 his own grievance, and I doubted not that he had pro 
 voked his superiors by his insubordination and violent 
 ways, which were like to make yet more trouble for 
 him in our camp, where his Excellency had but little 
 tolerance for these wild young gallants. Our general 
 had solemnly charged us to " endeavor so to live and 
 act as becomes a Christian soldier, defending the 
 dearest rights and liberties of his country." It was 
 therefore little probable that he would tolerate Dick's 
 wild manners and the idle way of living that he had 
 learned from the fashionable young officers of the royal 
 camp. But my thoughts at the time were all for 
 Joyce, now so unfortunately placed in the midst of 
 men that must look with little kindness and some 
 suspicion upon the family. 
 
 " Your mother was duly warned of your course," I 
 asked him, I fear a trifle coldly. 
 
 " I sent a letter to her by a safe hand," he answered, 
 with more nonchalance than I liked ; " she knew that I
 
 A YOUNG TURNCOAT. 323 
 
 was fretting under bad treatment has known it since 
 we were in Halifax." 
 
 I sighed ; there was little hope of awakening him to 
 a sense of his responsibility, and I saw that for the while 
 I must let the matter rest. I had the comfort, however, 
 of knowing that he was probably right in his confidence 
 that Mr. Howe would be fair in his treatment of the 
 two inoffensive women who were left to bear the brunt 
 of the boy's folly and hot temper. I made up my mind 
 to keep a close hold upon him, and, with that purpose 
 in view, invited him to share my quarters. Feeling 
 himself alone, and the mark of curious observation in 
 our army, he accepted gladly the proffers of old friend 
 ship, and when I got him in the light at supper, I for 
 gave him much. I saw the lines of care and sorrow on 
 his bright young face, and the expression of pain in his 
 blue eyes. For the first time I realized what it had 
 cost him to leave the service he had entered when 
 little more than a child. I remembered, too, that with 
 all his faults, Dick had ever a warm heart, and that it 
 was his way to hide his feelings by an air of nonchalant 
 bravado or of indifference. Something in his look and 
 manner touched me, and I laid my hand upon his 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Dick," I said softly, " I am sorry I understand 
 it all, at last." 
 
 At the touch of sympathy, the memory too, perhaps, 
 of our old companionship, he laid his head down on 
 the table and cried like a child. Then I knew how 
 bitter was the part that he had had to play, how keen 
 the mortification. He came not of turncoat blood, and 
 this was a day of reckoning that his proud spirit would 
 remember long. From that hour I began to believe 
 that perhaps he had not been wholly influenced by
 
 324 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 resentment, but had rather gradually awakened to the 
 fact that he was drawing the sword upon his brethren 
 in an unworthy cause. At least I loved to believe that 
 it was so, and forgave him all but his carelessness of 
 his mother and of Joyce. And even in this I saw that 
 circumstance had been against him, and reflected that 
 it was better for them to have him here than imprisoned 
 in New York and judged by military law. There was, 
 too, a happiness in the feeling that the sword was no 
 more drawn between us, and that Dick Talbot stood at 
 my side at last. How different had it been when last 
 the same tent sheltered both at Cambridge.
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 RECONNOISSANCE. 
 
 IN the weeks that followed, trial and disaster came so 
 thick upon our army that little time remained for any 
 private grief or care of mine. Strange, too, it seemed 
 that in this hour of evil fortune Dick Talbot should fight 
 beside me, shoulder to shoulder. He was much sub 
 dued and sobered by his own change of colors, and 
 won friends among us as rapidly as he seemed to have 
 made enemies among the redcoats. It may be that the 
 sight of men contending desperately for the cause they 
 loved, and enduring sharp privations, worked upon him 
 as he thought of the contrast between the ragged pa 
 triot shivering in the autumn winds and the well- 
 fed, warmly clad soldier whom the king had hired to 
 shoot down his people. However that may be, certain 
 it is that Dick was strangely sober and curbed his quick 
 temper, accepting a rank below the one he had resigned. 
 Indeed, there was food for thought in what he saw in 
 those days of disaster. There was, at first, the brilliant 
 dash of Lord Stirling against the enemy, when he cap 
 tured the colors, thirty-six prisoners, and sixty stand of 
 arms. But after that came the battle at White Plains. 
 At the approach of the British, General Washington 
 called in his outposts from along the Bronx, taking his 
 position at White Plains, where there was a sharp con 
 flict with the foe. They took a place called Chatter- 
 ton Hill, which commanded our lines; and here they
 
 326 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 rested, for night was upon them, and there had been 
 loss on both sides. We employed the time in strength 
 ening our position, and in building redoubts which in 
 the morning deceived the enemy. They were made of 
 the stalks of Indian corn uprooted, with the earth upon 
 them, from a neighboring field and employed as sods 
 and fascines. Thus we labored, our men in rags and 
 shivering in the cold, while before us in the darkness 
 burned the watchfires of the redcoats. When morn 
 ing dawned, the enemy, deceived by our apparently 
 strong works, forbore to attack us, and began to throw 
 up lines and redoubts in our front. His Excellency 
 was then convinced that they intended to outflank us 
 and seize the passes of the Highlands ; once more he 
 retreated, though there was murmuring among the offi 
 cers who did not comprehend his course and thought 
 that he fled before the foe. Rather did he defeat him 
 by the skill of his manoeuvers. We retreated at night, 
 setting fire to the barns and stores we left behind us, 
 and proceeding some five miles over the rocky country 
 to Northcastle, where we took up a strong position, so 
 strong, indeed, that General Howe made no attempt to 
 dislodge us. He would, no doubt, have fallen upon 
 our rear-guard at the time of the retreat, but heavy rain 
 prevented him, and so they also escaped unscathed. 
 Then was it their turn to astound us. After lying idle 
 for a few days, sounds were heard one night in their 
 camp, and in the morning we beheld the whole force 
 in full retreat upon the roads to Dobbs' Ferry. They 
 departed, British and Hessians, without another blow, 
 and left us in no little perplexity as to their intentions. 
 The chief anxiety was still for the safety of the Hudson, 
 and there could be no doubt that Howe intended, if 
 possible, to obtain possession of this stronghold and so
 
 RECONNOISSANCE. 327 
 
 control the inland country. Fort Washington and Fort 
 Lee were both garrisoned, and it was probable that the 
 British would attack the former. 
 
 Our poor fellows were in great distress, many barefoot 
 and without coats; others ragged and miserable, all 
 worn out with the exacting sen-ice to which they were so 
 little accustomed, and much disheartened, too, by con 
 stant reverses. General Lee was with us, and added 
 little to the comfort of the army, since he was but too 
 prone to criticise his commander-in-chief. 
 
 Troubles come not singly, and, ere many days, we were 
 to see the fall of Fort Washington and the surrender of 
 the gallant garrison. After perplexing us with a season 
 of inactivity, General Howe moved his forces against 
 this post, which had been held against the better judg 
 ment of Washington. His Excellency was forced to 
 witness the battle from the opposite shore of the Hudson, 
 and had the unhappiness of seeing the royal standard 
 planted on the fort. It was attacked upon all sides by 
 the British and the Hessians, and after a most gallant 
 resistance the garrison was forced to surrender to 
 Knyphausen's division. Over two thousand of our 
 brave fellows were marched off at night, prisoners, to 
 New York. We were compelled, too, to give up Fort 
 Lee, no longer tenable against the enemy ; and bitter 
 was the anxiety for the Hudson. All hope of obstruct 
 ing the navigation of the river was at an end, and the 
 passes through the Highlands were threatened by the 
 superior force of the enemy. We had withdrawn from 
 Fort Lee, at the approach of Lord Cornwallis, and fell 
 back upon the Hackensack. 
 
 It was at this time that the star of my evil fortune 
 was in the ascendant. The British took up their position 
 among our vacant tents, and seemed to be in great
 
 328 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 numbers. It was necessary to reconnoiter their lines, 
 to learn something of their strength, and volunteers 
 were requested for this service. Only such men as 
 desired to encounter the risks volunteered, and of these 
 I was among the number actually chosen. Our small 
 party was full of daring and good spirits, the danger 
 being but an incentive to activity. We crossed the 
 Hackensack at nightfall, and advanced cautiously toward 
 the enemy's pickets. We had the advantage, too, of 
 knowing the ground well, since this had been our own 
 encampment. Sheltered by the darkness, we approached 
 their outposts with less difficulty than we had looked for, 
 and reconnoitered their lines, coming as near as we 
 dared to their sentries. Several of the party with me 
 were Virginians and skilled in woodcraft, having been 
 with General Washington beyond the Alleghanies, and 
 to them this service had its own peculiar fascination ; 
 they were adroit in their manceuvers, while I soon felt 
 myself a blunderer. It was ever my foot that crushed 
 the twig with a sharp snap, ever my weapon on which 
 the campfire flashed. However, we remained yet un 
 discovered, and had penetrated close to their lines and 
 were satisfied that they were in great force. In the 
 dense shadow we stood and watched them pass and 
 repass their fires, or gather about them ; and their ap 
 pearance of well-fed, well-warmed ease struck us with 
 a sharp sense of the contrast between these, the king's 
 soldiers, and our poor ragged fellows beyond the Hack 
 ensack. I remember that I thought it well that some of 
 the poorer sort could not examine this scene at their 
 leisure ; verily, their loyalty to a true cause might have 
 suffered thereby. 
 
 So far all had gone well, and we began now to retreat 
 with the same caution that we had approached, having
 
 RECONNOISSANCE. 329 
 
 accomplished our errand. Each man carried his loaded 
 musket ready in his hand, and we separated, going in 
 pairs, to run less risk of a general capture. A young 
 Virginian was my companion, and we turned our faces 
 toward the river, walking in silence lest any pickets 
 should be out upon a similar service, to reconnoiter our 
 position. We had proceeded safely to some distance 
 from their lines when we became aware that we had 
 stumbled into a party coming from the direction of the 
 river. They had advanced so quietly, and with such 
 celerity, that we were unaware of their approach until 
 they were within a few yards of us. Then we were un 
 certain whether it was friend or foe, and while we debated 
 softly upon the risk of a challenge, they came upon us. 
 As yet we were unperceived, and might have so re 
 mained but for an untoward accident. The young 
 fellow who was with me, moving back a little to be 
 farther from their path, caught his foot in the gnarled 
 root of a tree and fell, his gun discharging as he did 
 so. In an instant there was an alarm, and some brief 
 order sharply given. Had I been a knave, I could have 
 saved myself then, for they could not see in the dark 
 ness ; but I would not leave my comrade. I stooped to 
 help him to his feet, for he had struck his head and was 
 slightly stunned. That brief delay was my undoing ; the 
 flash of the weapon had revealed our position, and they 
 surrounded us. I knew now that they were British, and, 
 having the Virginian by the arm, I made an effort to 
 dash through them, drawing my pistol and firing as I 
 sprang forward. But it availed nothing ; they were ten 
 to one, and in the night I could not see to aim and so 
 effected no mischief in their ranks. They closed upon 
 us, and seizing our weapons, made us march with them to 
 the camp. I soon perceived that we had caused no little
 
 330 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 alarm, since they imagined that they had stumbled upon 
 an ambuscade and seemed still apprehensive, even after 
 securing us, that a large force was at hand. They made 
 us march therefore at double quick ; indeed, we nearly 
 ran for the first few yards, and I could scarce refrain 
 from smiling at their consternation. They were not 
 entirely without reason, either, for General Washington 
 had won the reputation of sudden and silent moves, 
 though they had been thus far rather in retreat than in 
 attack. It was a common though a bitter jest amongst 
 us to say that retreating was yet the fashion. 
 
 We were now taken within the lines that we had lately 
 viewed from a distance, and were both examined by an 
 officer, though not that night before Cornwallis. I 
 think they were too busy in their preparations for an 
 attack to concern themselves about us. We were sepa 
 rated and carefully guarded, but they failed to make 
 anything of us. I was relieved that we seemed to be 
 the only members of our little party captured, and 
 trusted that the others had recrossed the Hackensack 
 in safety. All night I heard a great stir in the camp, 
 and knew that they looked for an assault, supposing us 
 to be but the forerunners of a detachment. For my 
 own part, my reflections were sorry enough. Here was 
 a sharp climax to my career, and I remembered, with 
 dreary apprehension, the slow course of negotiations for 
 an exchange of prisoners. I thought with keen regret 
 of my hopes and ambitions of the morning. It seemed 
 that I was not destined to any great distinction. Mis 
 fortune ever cut me off from the most active service, 
 and dashed the cup of preferment from my lips. How- 
 beit, I set my heart to bear it, reflecting that vain re 
 grets would not mend my fortunes ; but never had the 
 watches of the night seemed longer or more dreary,
 
 RECONNOISSAXCE. 331 
 
 and I hailed the first gleam of day with relief. Yet the 
 day was to bring me no satisfaction. I was examined 
 briefly by Lord Cornwallis, being taken before him and 
 two officers of his staff. But drawing nothing from me, 
 and by this time satisfied that we had been out on some 
 exploit without any force behind us, I was committed to 
 the custody of an officer, who presently informed me 
 that we would set out at noon for New York. I knew 
 that my fate was to be one of the prisons of the town, 
 and my heart sank at the thought. We had no lack of 
 gloomy descriptions of the treatment of the prisoners, 
 and the British recognized no rank amongst us, so that 
 the highest and the lowest shared an equal punishment. 
 Thus I turned my face again to New York with a re 
 luctance that I had not thought to feel. I was going to 
 the same town that held Joyce, but went with keen 
 regret. Strange, indeed, is fate !
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 GENERAL HOWE. 
 
 I HAD been separated from the young Virginian whose 
 misfortune caused our disaster ; nor did I see him again 
 for many months, not, indeed, until he was exchanged 
 with other prisoners. I was taken alone, under guard, 
 to the city. The party, some half-dozen British dra 
 goons, commanded by a decent man, who treated me 
 with some civility, proceeded at their leisure ; an errand 
 taking them to King's Bridge, where we lay that night. 
 It was noon when we rode down the Bloomingdale road 
 to Bowery Lane. Off toward Lispenard's meadows 
 some volunteers were drilling, and the officer with me 
 informed me that they were loyalists who had entered 
 his Majesty's service. I knew them to be the same 
 Tories who had given us so much trouble, and looked 
 with interest and much scorn upon them. They made, 
 however, a smart appearance, and were drilling with a 
 great show of alacrity and some skill. Their uniforms 
 and accouterments were of the gayest, as it is ever with 
 new soldiers. We were sharply challenged by the sen 
 tries as we entered the town, and I perceived that it 
 was under strict martial law. At the sight of a Yankee 
 officer riding in the midst of the redcoats, a little crowd 
 gathered at our heels. We passed down Broadway, ob 
 jects of open curiosity, and some applause from a low 
 set of knaves that are ever ready to cry out at a small ex 
 citement. I was quick to notice signs of sharp distress
 
 GENERAL HOWE. 333 
 
 among the poor, and that the town was overrun with 
 idle soldiers ripe for mischief. I observed, too, a strange 
 symbol upon some of the houses, a large R. inscribed 
 upon them in a conspicuous place. This, I soon 
 learned, was intended to designate the rebel property 
 which was confiscated to the king. Upon one corner 
 was pasted a placard advertising a reward for " a bright 
 yellow girl with gold rings in her ears," who had run 
 away from her mistress, and was, so said the notice, " an 
 evil-tempered wench and ripe for mischief." So it was 
 not clear why a reward was offered for her. Little more 
 did I notice, save that the Tories were now abroad in 
 great numbers. The captain of our little company, 
 annoyed by the mob that gathered at our heels, quick 
 ened the gait of our horses, and we came at a full trot 
 to Livingstone's sugar-house on Liberty Street, and here 
 we halted. I was ordered to dismount, and did so with 
 so much stubborn reluctance' that one of the troopers 
 swore at me for my delay. I was hurried into the 
 building with little ceremony, and found it crowded 
 with the prisoners taken at Fort Washington. I had 
 heard stories of the hard treatment of our men, but had 
 no thought to find it as bad as this ; yet afterwards it 
 was far worse, they told me, when the war had been 
 longer under way. The men were crowded like sheep, 
 and there was no hope of cleanliness or even decency. 
 Many a sad tale they told me, and I saw more written 
 on faces that were marred by hunger. I soon found 
 that we were like to starve, for no decent food was 
 brought us, and the little that we had, beans and bread 
 for the most part, was almost past eating. As for our 
 keepers, they were of the lowest sort, and no surgeon or 
 minister came to this gloomy place while 1 was there. 
 I was greatly moved by the sight of a young soldier, a
 
 334 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 mere boy, lying on the floor with a wound that had 
 never been dressed, and slowly dying. I tried in vain 
 to help him, to move the turnkey to call a doctor ; but 
 it was of no use to plead with these people, and indeed 
 the boy was far gone when I got there. I tended him 
 through that night, and so forgot my own misfortune. 
 The poor lad was out of his head and raved, and would 
 have beaten his brains out had I not held him. The 
 other prisoners, poor souls, were so disheartened, so 
 hardened to the sight of distress, that they took little 
 interest, and could not even tell me the boy's name. 
 Before morning he died, conscious at the very last, but 
 too weak to do more than murmur "Mother," as he 
 passed away. The day was breaking when I laid him 
 down upon the floor, for beds we had not, and his bright 
 hair caught the first ray of sunlight that shone in at the 
 barred window. His suffering had served to occupy my 
 thoughts, but now I looked about me in a dull despair. 
 I read in the indifference of these wretched men what 
 they had endured. They looked at the body on the 
 floor with cold composure, and told me that such deaths 
 were common. The corpse lay there all day, and once 
 a turnkey would have kicked it aside had I not stood 
 between, and the wretch, measuring my size, let the 
 dead boy lie. At evening they took the body out, as 
 they would have taken that of a beast, and told me it 
 would go to the potter's field. Poor lad ! I remem 
 bered that cry of " Mother," and thought sadly of the 
 woman who knew not his fearful end. 
 
 I could not eat the prison food, and could scarcely 
 drink the water that they gave us, for it was very foul ; 
 so it seemed that I might soon end by starvation. But 
 we do not die easily, and I lived in this purgatory five 
 long days and saw two more men die, one of dysentery
 
 GENERAL HOWE. 335 
 
 and another of fever, and they, too, were carried out and 
 thrown in the potter's field. I began to wonder how 
 soon my turn might come, and the men about me asked 
 why they had not sent me to the Old Provost, where they 
 sent the officers. So on the sixth day, when the turnkey 
 told me that I was ordered to leave the sugar-house, I 
 supposed it was to go to the Old Provost ; but such was 
 not the case. I was taken down the stairs, and in the 
 hall found the civil officer who had brought me, and I 
 saw that he was startled at the sight of me. Five 
 days without food, or with scarcely any, and with no 
 means of cleanliness had made a sorry change, I doubt 
 not. He told me briefly that he had orders to remove 
 me, and at the door I found an escort with a led horse 
 for me. The captain, who had not ceased staring at 
 me, had some talk with his lieutenant, and then we 
 mounted. I believe that they were kind-hearted men, 
 and that the sight of such a change told them a sad 
 story of what we had to endure. Howbeit they took me 
 to the Fly Market, where, at the corner of Brownjohn's 
 Wharf, was a tavern much frequented by British officers. 
 Here we dismounted, and the captain told me that 1 
 would find means to arrange my dress and could dine 
 here before we proceeded. For the opportunity to bathe 
 and dress, I was thankful, but my stomach was too weak 
 for much food, and I was stared at with such insolence 
 by the young officers in the public room that I was far 
 too angry to digest even a bowl of broth, which was all 
 that I could swallow. As soon as I had finished this, I 
 began to speculate upon their intentions ; but I was not 
 left long in uncertainty. I had scarcely despatched my 
 soup before an orderly arrived who whispered apart with 
 the officer who had me in charge, and I was immedi 
 ately desired to mount. Escorted by the orderly and
 
 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 my guardian, I proceeded by a quiet route through the 
 streets toward the height near East River. It was not 
 long before I divined their destination ; Lord Howe 
 was at Beekman's house upon this height, and there they 
 were taking me. We were challenged by the sentry, and 
 then passed on and dismounted before the main entrance, 
 where, after some parley, we were admitted and waited 
 for a brief interval in the hall. I could not comprehend 
 their purpose, but my thoughts were gloomy enough, and 
 standing there, I remembered that gallant young soldier, 
 Nathan Hale, who had served with me outside of Boston, 
 and, after the battle of Long Island, volunteered to pen 
 etrate the enemy's lines and bring sure information of 
 their works. He had fallen into their hands, been tried 
 in this very house, and sentenced to death as a spy. 
 With these reflections in my mind, I waited patiently 
 for the unfolding of my own fate. I could hear the sound 
 of voices and the click of glasses, and knew that a party of 
 officers were dining with their chief. While I thought 
 grimly of that sickening prison and of the lad's death, I 
 heard their boisterous laughter, and it seemed the mock 
 ery of fate. Upon the table in the hall lay a couple of 
 ornamental swords, a pair of gauntlets, and a pack of 
 playing-cards, and by the door stood an orderly in full 
 uniform. The great clock on the stairs struck three 
 before the order came for me to move. Then a young 
 officer came from the dining-room, and directed my 
 guard to bring me before the general. 
 
 We passed through two rooms, and entered the con 
 servatory, where I found both the Howes. They were 
 surrounded by plants and a few bright flowers, enough 
 to sweeten the air with their fragrance. Lord Howe was 
 standing in the background, seemingly uninterested. 
 Like the general, he was swarthy, and it was said that
 
 GENERAL HOWE. 337 
 
 his profile was strikingly like that of his grandfather 
 George the First; the Howes being, by illegitimate 
 descent, uncles of the king. General Howe sat facing 
 me, his elbow on the arm of his chair and his chin sup 
 ported by his hand. He was a large man, six feet tall, 
 and of coarse build, with large features and an uncom 
 monly dark complexion, and was, by reputation, a profli 
 gate and a gamester. It was reported that he loved the 
 faro- table better than business, and gambled away his 
 money with almost as much recklessness as his mistress 
 spent it ; his example encouraging dissolute living among 
 his young officers. 
 
 As I paused before him, he scanned my face and 
 figure with the keen eye of a man accustomed to deal 
 with men. I felt that he was forming some estimate of 
 my character, but regarded him steadily and with indif 
 ference to his opinion. I had already suffered too much 
 to expect anything but evil treatment at his hands. I 
 saw him glance at my simple uniform of buff and blue, 
 and was conscious that my sojourn in prison had played 
 sad havoc with my clothes and that my face was haggard. 
 I must have offered a great contrast in my appearance 
 to the young dandies who served under him. Some 
 locks of my hair were loose and hung upon cheek and 
 forehead; I had been given no powder, not even a 
 ribbon, and no doubt looked unkempt and wretched. 
 It may be that he had seen others come in worse con 
 dition from his prisons, and divined the cause of my 
 disordered appearance, though many tried to shield him 
 and said that he knew not how bad it was. If he did, 
 may God forgive him ! He was sleek and full fed enough, 
 his face flushed with a good dinner and much wine, and 
 his dress of the richest. Lord Howe was in his uniform, 
 but his brother wore a coat and small clothes of black
 
 338 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 velvet, and a white satin waistcoat, embroidered in rich 
 fashion ; his stockings were of black silk, and the buckles 
 on his shoes of the largest and finest design ; his pow 
 dered wig showed elaborate care in its arrangement. 1 
 had left the soldier fighting for his cause ; I saw here the 
 soldier of the king. Great was the contrast, yet I envied 
 not the state and display that I beheld. While this 
 passed through my mind, Mr. Howe viewed me in 
 silence ; I think that he was not wholly unconscious of 
 the comparison to be drawn between the two camps. 
 However, he broke the silence at last. 
 
 "Your name, I think, is Allen?" he said in a calm 
 voice, neither sharply nor authoritatively, but rather in 
 a tone of interest. 
 
 " John Allen," I replied, " the son of Judge Allen of 
 Salem." 
 
 "Judge Allen?" he repeated slowly; "the king's 
 judge, too, as I take it." 
 
 Knowing that he would charge my father with treason, 
 I felt my cheek burn, but replied with candor. 
 
 " Even so, sir," I said ; " at first appointed by the 
 King of Great Britain, but now a member of the Con 
 gress of the United Colonies." 
 
 " Having, however, taken an oath to the crown," he 
 returned, speaking slowly, " and being therefore a 
 perjurer in breaking it." 
 
 " Nay, sir," I retorted hotly, " a patriot who has 
 S'rved his country with a single heart." 
 
 "And his king?" said Mr. Howe dryly, looking 
 at me attentively, as though he weighed me in a 
 balance. 
 
 " He has ever fulfilled the higher duty," I replied 
 gravely, " to the King of kings." 
 
 "You are something of a preacher, I fancy," he
 
 GENERAL HOWE. 339 
 
 remarked, " but you should remember ' to render unto 
 Caesar that which is Caesar's.' " 
 
 " Nay," I said coldly, " the colonists rose, at the 
 first, to defend their chartered rights as free-born sub 
 jects of the king ; in England you would do no less." 
 
 Lord Howe, who took no part in the conversation, 
 uttered an exclamation of impatience ; but the general 
 on!y laughed. 
 
 " We will not discuss this matter, Mr. Allen," he 
 remarked ; " you are now, however, in a position to 
 remember presently your allegiance to his Majesty. I 
 have the report of your capture, but am willing to hear 
 your story, knowing something of your family. What 
 was your errand so near our lines? " 
 
 " I was out upon a reconnoissance," I answered 
 boldly, " and had the misfortune to be captured." 
 
 He smiled a little at my answer, and then turned upon 
 me with a change of manner. 
 
 " You are a brave man, Mr. Allen," he said abruptly ; 
 " why do you persist in this misguided course ? There 
 is no reward for gallantry in the rebel camp, while the 
 king is ready and willing to bestow both rank and for 
 tune upon such as serve him truly. Give up these 
 tatterdemalions ; give your sword to the cause of your 
 sovereign ; place in my hands a description of the 
 Yankee forces, fortifications, and plans, and a rich reward 
 will be yours, besides the honor of serving your king." 
 
 I had listened in silence, and now looked him coldly 
 in the eye. 
 
 "We Americans have ever honored the name of 
 Howe," I said deliberately, " for the sake of your gal 
 lant brother who fell at Ticonderoga. I never thought 
 to hear you, sir, offer a gentleman a price for his 
 honor ! "
 
 340 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 His face flushed deeply, and he remained a moment 
 silent. 
 
 "Is the service of your king, then, without honor?" 
 he asked sharply. 
 
 " I am an officer in the army of the United Colonies," 
 I replied calmly, though I was deeply moved, " and 
 I acknowledge no allegiance to the King of Great 
 Britain." 
 
 " You are a bold fellow," said Lord Howe suddenly, 
 speaking for the first and only time, " and need rigorous 
 discipline to teach you your duty." 
 
 " He does not realize my forbearance," his brother 
 remarked dryly ; " instead of the jail, which is the lot of 
 traitors, I hare offered him a place in the king's service, 
 and he is blind to the honor." 
 
 " Nay, sir," I cried with feeling, " you have rather 
 offered me an insult which I am helpless to resent. 
 An honest man has no price ! " 
 
 He smiled coldly, and summoned the officer who had 
 brought me to the house, calling him Captain Ledley. 
 
 " We will give you time for a little reflection, Mr. 
 Allen," he said calmly, "remembering the service that 
 your father once rendered the crown before this mad 
 ness overtook him. If you remain obdurate, you will 
 share the fate of all other rebels against the king." 
 
 I bowed my head gravely, and prepared to follow the 
 officer, to whom General Howe spoke apart. As I left 
 I caught the words, " a brave fellow, therefore treat 
 him with more forbearance than the other knaves." 
 His subordinate saluted, and then conducted me from 
 the conservatory. We passed through the house, and 
 mounting our horses rode back to the heart of the 
 town. I expected to return to the sugar-house, and 
 rode along with dull indifference, though I had enough
 
 GENERAL HOWE. 341 
 
 to think of in the interview. I was ashamed that 
 General Howe had dreamed that I was capable of 
 accepting a bribe, and was at a loss, too, to understand 
 his interest in me. That he was a generous man and 
 popular among his followers, I knew, but he had never 
 been distinguished for any forbearance toward the colo 
 nists. Howbeit, it was useless to seek a solution of such 
 problems, and I rather let my mind dwell on the reverse 
 side of the picture. I should receive the full measure 
 of my punishment, doubtless, and I thought of the 
 hideous deaths in prison and of the potter's field. 
 Thus I went through the streets unheeding the idle 
 curiosity that had before annoyed me, and so absorbed 
 that I nearly passed without seeing the one face that 
 looked kindly on me. We were riding down Broadway 
 when I glanced up at a window above my head, and 
 looked into the eyes of Dorothy Wayne. It was mani 
 fest that she had seen me long ere I perceived her, and 
 she waved her hand to me, her gesture being one of 
 encouragement and hope. It was but a glimpse, yet 
 the sight of her gentle face was a pleasure to me, and I 
 went on with better heart. A friend's greeting in mis 
 fortune is doubly dear, since there is then a greater need 
 of kindness. 
 
 We rode on to the vicinity of the Fly Market, where 
 we halted before a plain house which had evidently be 
 longed to some banished Whig, being stamped with the 
 great R. As we stopped at the door, a burly officer 
 came up and talked sharply to Captain Ledley, pointing 
 all the while at me, and I heard Ledley say that he had 
 General Howe's orders, yet he had some difficulty in 
 shaking off the stranger. Afterwards I learned that it 
 was the same Cunningham who so brutally abused the 
 prisoners, and that he had no wish to see me so well
 
 342 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 treated. However, Captain Ledley took me in the house 
 to a small but decent room in the second story, and I 
 was told that this was my present place of confinement, 
 which I interpreted to mean that I had allowance of 
 grace and if I recanted all would be well. On the other 
 hand, if I remained obdurate, I should be sent to the 
 sugar-house again or to the Old Provost, where other 
 officers of our army were confined in a miserable 
 fashion. Knowing my own resolution, and being thus 
 clearly warned of the inevitable result, my reflections 
 were not cheerful. Presently, being left alone, I took a 
 seat by the small barred window, and looked down upon 
 the yard below, in which were only dead leaves and a 
 patch of bare earth. In solitude and sadness I passed 
 my first two days in this new prison, and saw no one but 
 the soldier who was my jailer and solitary attendant, and 
 was posted in the outer room through which was the 
 only egress from my quarters.
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 DOROTHY ONCE MORE. 
 
 GREAT as was the change from the horrors of the sugar- 
 house on Liberty Street to these new quarters, I yet 
 found my situation irksome enough. To be sure, I had 
 here a fairly clean room and a decent bed, but I had 
 neither pen nor paper, and my isolation was complete. 
 It was better to be alone in the poorest cell than in the 
 crowded limits of that hideous prison, no more than 
 a pest-house, but solitary confinement has its own 
 depressing effect. My best amusement was to borrow a 
 newspaper from my guard, and even that was a privilege. 
 These papers, being edited by Tories, were full of curious 
 accounts of the condition of our army. " Such a miser 
 able lot of ragged creatures as were never scraped to 
 gether before," so said the journal ; and it went on to tell 
 of Washington's wild flight through the Jerseys, saying 
 that it was doubtful that he would even dare to halt at 
 Philadelphia. Of the Congress, these editors spoke also 
 with much contempt, announcing that the pestiferous 
 rebels were scared beyond all reason and that the in 
 surrection would soon come to a miserable end. I found 
 some grim amusement in reading these accounts, mar 
 velling not a little that sane men should write them, even 
 in malice ; surely, they could deceive no one, therefore 
 they were as unprofitable as they were silly. Poor read 
 ing, too, for a man who was closely penned within four 
 walls and with no outlook but a barren patch of earth 
 and the rear of other houses. It was true that I could
 
 344 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 see the sky, and in watching that found my greatest 
 comfort. I was provided with no fire, and found but 
 cold comfort in my cheerless quarters. I reflected, too, 
 that all this was but the preliminary to more rigorous 
 treatment when they found that their designs against my 
 honor were futile. It made my cheek hot, even in my 
 solitude, to think that General Howe had dared to so 
 insult me. An obscure soldier I might be, but at least 
 I had endeavored to do my plain duty, and surely had 
 not merited so gross a suspicion. I was at a loss to un 
 derstand why I should be treated with more charity than 
 others who deserved fully as much lenity as I. It was 
 not until later that I knew who had sued for favor for me. 
 
 It was the third day of my captivity in the new 
 quarters, yet so weary had been the hours that it seemed 
 rather the thirtieth. I was standing at my post by the 
 window when I heard voices in the outer room, and the 
 guard came to the door to bid me come forth. I obeyed 
 readily enough, for it was a pleasure to go beyond the 
 four walls of my jail. To my great joy I saw, standing 
 in the center of the room, Dorothy Wayne and her black 
 slave Jason. So happy was I to see these two friends 
 that I took no heed of the soldier, who remained a 
 silent spectator of the scene. 
 
 "This is good of you, Miss Wayne," I said, taking 
 her slender hand in both my own ; " they told me that 
 a prisoner could have no visitors." 
 
 She looked at me with gentle kindness and cheerful 
 ness in her brown eyes, but I think she saw that I was 
 pale and haggard ; captivity had told sharply upon one 
 accustomed to active life in the open air. 
 
 " It is true that visitors are forbidden," she replied 
 quietly, " but Mr. Howe has permitted me to see you, at 
 my earnest entreaty."
 
 DOROTHY ONCE MORE. 345 
 
 Then suddenly it came to me that she had been an 
 intercessor for me. 
 
 " It is to you that I owe my treatment here, then? " I 
 said quickly. 
 
 For the moment she was disconcerted ; she was one 
 who never sought thanks for any good deed, but rather 
 delighted to bestow her benefits unsuspected. 
 
 " It was you, I see," I continued quietly, " and I 
 thank you. But I should be happy to have escaped the 
 offer that Mr. Howe made to me." 
 
 She looked up in surprise, and I saw that she was 
 ignorant of the insult. 
 
 " I know not what you mean," she said gently ; " I 
 hoped that he would forbear to say aught to you that 
 would be unwelcome. 
 
 "We will not speak of it, Dorothy," I answered 
 kindly ; " my case is but the fortune of war." 
 
 She glanced at me inquiringly, and her face flushed ; 
 an intuition told her that I had been insulted, and her 
 quick sympathy brought the blood to her temples. 
 
 " Grieve not for it," I said, seeing her embarrassment, 
 " but rather tell me some tidings, since I perish here in 
 ignorance of all that passes. First, how fares it with 
 your grandparents? " 
 
 " Both are well," she answered, " and greatly dis 
 tressed for you. Other tidings I have but few. But I 
 have an errand that I must discharge at once, since they 
 have limited my time." 
 
 She glanced at the sentry, who stood leaning against 
 the door, watching us with stolid indifference. Every 
 word that passed could be heard by him, every move 
 ment seen ; but there was no redress. 
 
 " If you have any good tidings, tell me," I said sadly, 
 ' for they will be welcome in this prison."
 
 346 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " Nay," she replied, smiling a little; "this is scarcely 
 in the nature of tidings. I have not told Miss Joyce 
 Talbot of your capture ; she knows nothing of it. I for 
 bore because I knew not what would be the outcome of 
 it. I will try to bring her here, if they will let me, if you 
 are willing to trust the errand to me." 
 
 At the thought of seeing Joyce, the narrow room no 
 longer seemed so miserable a prison, and I looked with 
 gratitude upon the sweet face of the woman who was 
 ever so thoughtful of the happiness of others. 
 
 " Gladly do I trust you," I replied ; " but tell me 
 how it fares with her since Dick left them here 
 alone?" 
 
 She grew grave in the instant, but answered with a 
 cheerful manner. 
 
 " There has been some feeling, some estrangement," 
 she said, " and that is not unnatural, but they have been 
 treated kindly by all those who deserve regard. They 
 live now in close seclusion, and thus it is that she is un 
 conscious of your imprisonment. It may be that I can 
 not obtain permission to bring her here, but it will be 
 my earnest endeavor." 
 
 "How is it," I asked, "that you can obtain so much 
 from General Howe ? " 
 
 " General Howe," she replied ; " as you know, has an 
 old acquaintance with my grandfather : his brother, who 
 fell upon the shores of Lake Champlain, was once ill in 
 our house, and greatly loved my grandparents. Nay," 
 she added frankly, " I know you thought me a turncoat, 
 but it is not true. Sir William knows me to be as great 
 a rebel as the best of you, yet he tolerates my errands of 
 mercy. It is my duty and my pleasure to visit the 
 sick and the prisoners, when I can obtain the leave to do 
 it ; but that is not often."
 
 DOROTHY ONCE MORE. 347 
 
 "Ay," I said gently, "a sister of mercy thou art, 
 Dorothy, and as such I ever think of thee." 
 
 She was more moved at these words than ever I had 
 seen her, and tears came into her brown eyes. Her lips 
 trembled, too, but she controlled hersejf, having wonder 
 ful self-command for a girl so quiet and gentle. After a 
 brief pause she turned again to me with her calm manner 
 quite restored, and scanned my face with a 'kindly, 
 anxious glance. 
 
 " You are not well," she said in a low voice ; " I can 
 see lines both of weariness and illness on your face ; you 
 are nearly as pale as when you lay so ill with your 
 wounds." 
 
 I told her that my wounds yet troubled me a little, 
 and that the prison air suffocated a soldier, but I spoke 
 not of the fearful sugar-house. 
 
 "You were disobedient to your physician's orders, I 
 fear," she said reproachfully, " else the old wounds 
 would not trouble you so much. You were too soon in 
 the saddle." 
 
 " Not soon enough for my own wishes or my duty," 
 I answered, smiling ; " you cannot keep a soldier upon 
 an invalid's couch." 
 
 " Alas, no," she admitted with a sigh, " and I had no 
 power to persuade you to be careful. It is the office of 
 some one we know," she added archly ; " and had she 
 seen you as I did, sure am I that she would have for 
 bidden you the saddle for many a long day." 
 
 " Now, truly, I think that I ought to have obeyed you 
 from gratitude, Dorothy," I answered heartily; "you 
 make me out an ungrateful fellow enough. I had no 
 choice ; I would have been a poltroon to have stayed 
 behind when so much was at stake." 
 
 " A poltroon you could be never ! " she answered
 
 348 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 with spirit, " but you are a slave to duty. It is well to 
 be so, perhaps ; but yet you must remember that your 
 life is worth much to us all." 
 
 " And worth more to me," I said at once, " since I 
 find it valuable to others. Nay, go not, Dorothy," I 
 added entreatingly ; " these prison walls were dull enough 
 before, but now, after this glimpse of daylight, they will 
 be intolerable." 
 
 But she shook her head, and drew her hand from my 
 detaining grasp. 
 
 " My time is over," she answered, smiling, " and you 
 must let me go to fetch a far more welcome visitor." 
 
 " Yes," I said with feeling ; " I see you go, as ever, 
 intent to benefit others by your kindness. Truly, Dor 
 othy, you are my good angel." 
 
 At this she shook her head, laughing, though tears 
 shone upon her eyelashes. 
 
 " I am, as I told you before, but an attendant spirit," 
 she answered. " I go to bring the good angel ; therefore 
 fare you well, Captain Allen, for a season." 
 
 With this, she left me, and I was once more returned 
 to my narrow limits, but now had food for both reflection 
 and hope. The thought of seeing Joyce had never 
 entered my mind, because I saw no possibility of any 
 communication with her, and the unexpected revival of 
 my spirits made me cast all my depression to the winds. 
 I was now filled with impatience, and started at every 
 sound, looking for her coming at any time. Yet the 
 day wore on and night fell, and she came not, and I had 
 to nurse my disappointment in solitude. The morning 
 brought me another surprise that was, however, far from 
 pleasant. I had been in charge of Captain Ledley, but 
 now a change was made. I learned of it from the guard 
 who attended me, and it was rarely unwelcome. I was,
 
 DOROTHY ONCE MOKE. 349 
 
 for a few days at least, in the charge of Mr. Beresford. 
 So, at the very moment when I hoped to see Joyce, I 
 found myself in the power of my rival. He had the 
 courtesy to forbear to intrude upon my privacy, but none 
 the less I knew that to him Joyce must apply for admis 
 sion, and at his hands I must accept the privilege of an 
 interview with her or perhaps be mortified by his refusal. 
 Yet I considered, on reflection, that this he could not do, 
 if Mr. Howe permitted her to come. However, look at 
 it in what light I would, it was unpleasant.
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 LOVE IN PRISON. 
 
 IN the morning at last Joyce came. I was closely 
 confined in the narrow limits of my prison cell, as I 
 called the room in which they kept me, and the door 
 into the adjoining apartment was securely bolted on the 
 outside. But the wood was thin, the door warped, and 
 the sill fallen until I could easily hear any sound upon 
 the farther side. So it was that I heard voices in the 
 hall beyond, and recognized the tones I loved so well.- 
 I started up, forgetful that I was a prisoner, and tried 
 the door only to awake too soon to my condition. 
 Meanwhile I heard them enter the other room, and 
 Joyce's voice rose clear above the other, a man's, 
 which was lowered at the first. 
 
 " Nay," she said, " I do not seek a quarrel with you, 
 Mr. Beresford ; it would be my misfortune, since we are 
 all in your power. But can you blame any woman for 
 resenting such an act of absolute discourtesy? I would 
 be less than a woman to endure it ! " 
 
 At this, not knowing what had happened and being 
 minded to let them know that I was listening, I shook 
 the door and called to them that I could hear; but 
 neither seemed to heed me, though both heard me well 
 enough. 
 
 " I intended no discourtesy, Miss Talbot," replied 
 Beresford's voice, with a tone of injury; "it is my sworn 
 duty to obey my instructions."
 
 LOVE IN PRISON. 351 
 
 " Pshaw ! " cried Joyce, with her old imperious man 
 ner ; " that is but a quibble to refuse so simple a re 
 quest is absolute tyranny ! More, sir, it is an insinuation 
 that you do not trust my word freely pledged to you." 
 
 " I have never doubted it ! " replied her companion, 
 hotly ; " I would gladly comply with any with every 
 request that you could make, Miss Talbot, and you know 
 it ! It is cruel to reproach a man for obeying orders." 
 
 " I cannot believe that your duty requires you to set a 
 spy upon me ! " she exclaimed, passionate anger in her 
 voice. 
 
 " Now, by heaven ! " he cried, " this is too bad ! As 
 if I could desire it, or wish it ! What have I to learn? 
 I know you love this rebel can you suppose that I 
 wish to know how much ? " 
 
 His voice quivered with emotion, and I began to be 
 lieve that a man's heart beat under that dandified exterior. 
 
 " It is unnecessary to add accusations to discourtesy, 
 sir," retorted Joyce, still, as I could divine, too 
 angry to be sure of what she said. " This much I do 
 know, you tell me that I and my maid may not speak 
 alone to Captain Allen ; that one of these common, 
 curious guards must stand gaping and listening to a con 
 versation between old friends." 
 
 " Why not say lovers, Miss Talbot ? " said Beresford, 
 bitterly. 
 
 " Lovers, if you wish it, sir," she returned at once. 
 
 Again I knocked upon the door, but there was no 
 response, save the heavy tread of Beresford, who seemed 
 to walk to and fro in the other room. For a few 
 moments there was silence, and then he spoke. 
 
 "Miss Talbot," he said bluntly, " you have driven me 
 into a corner, and I am determined to give you your way, 
 though it may cost me dear. You shall see and talk
 
 352 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 with Mr. Allen, and no sentry will stand in the room ; 
 but I myself will guard the door upon the outer 
 side. And on my honor, madam, I am deaf from this 
 moment." 
 
 She had spoken in anger, and, I think, was taken 
 wholly by surprise, for she began to thank him ; but evi 
 dently he would not listen, but unfastening the bolts, 
 opened the door for me. Then silently, saluting us both, 
 he turned and walked from the room. But I had no 
 longer any thought for him. I saw only Joyce standing 
 before me ; at the moment I did not even heed her 
 woman, who stood at the window with her back discreetly 
 turned. Neither of us thought of her for the time, nor 
 of any one but each other. Tears shone in my love's 
 blue eyes when she saw me, and she clung to me an 
 instant weeping before even she remembered that we 
 were not alone. Then we stood holding each other's 
 hands, like two children, while she asked me how I 
 did, and grieved because I was pale and thin, and my 
 coat shabby from exposure to the elements. At this, 
 which was so like a woman, I smiled. 
 
 " Happily, Joyce, a coat makes not the man," I said, 
 " else would our army be without any hope, since a coat 
 among us is a rarity. We are not birds of gay plumage, 
 as the king's soldiers are. Poor and ragged and unfor 
 tunate ; but we will conquer yet or die." 
 
 " Alas," she said sadly, " that is brave talk for a 
 prisoner. Dear heart, I fear you cannot win ; the 
 newspapers tell us that your army is melting away and 
 your party already destroyed." 
 
 " You read the Tory newspapers," I replied ; " verily, 
 I have been astonished at their tidings. They know 
 more of us than ever we knew ourselves ! These are 
 nil idle tales, Joyce, think not of them. You have not
 
 LOVE IN PRISON. 353 
 
 yet asked me for Dick?" I added, wondering at her 
 silence. 
 
 At my words her face flamed, and she looked up with 
 an expression of wounded pride. 
 
 " Because I am ashamed to ask," she answered ; " I 
 never thought to see my brother a turncoat ! " 
 
 " I remember that you thought me one," I answered 
 softly ; '' so my heart goes out in sympathy to Dick." 
 
 " You are a rebel," she replied bluntly, " but Dick 
 Talbot was a soldier of the king more shame to 
 him and now he is fighting against his Majesty." 
 
 " And for his country," I rejoined. " Dick's heart was 
 ever ours, I believe, but he followed the flag under 
 which he had enlisted." 
 
 " Verily, if his heart was yours, he knew how to abuse 
 you," she said hotly. " Never was there a more violent 
 royalist, and now what is he but a turncoat? I am 
 ashamed of him." 
 
 Knowing Dick, as I did, I was not unconscious of the 
 truth of her charges, and knew, too, how she hated any 
 surrender of a principle with all her stout little Tory 
 heart. 
 
 "Joyce," I said, too low for any ears but hers, 
 "harden not your heart too much, for I am yet a 
 rebel." 
 
 At this she looked at me a moment with defiance, and 
 then smiled through her tears. 
 
 " Alas ! " she answered as softly, " I fear that I am 
 but a poor royalist, since I can countenance such trea 
 son. Oh, John," she added earnestly, " what evil for 
 tune brought you here?" 
 
 " Nay, not evil," I answered, smiling, " since it 
 brought me to you ! " 
 
 Then I told her simply of the unfortunate reconnois- 
 23
 
 354 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 sance, of my capture, and of General Howe and the 
 Waynes. At this, too, I remembered that Dorothy had 
 not come with her, and asked if she had told Joyce of 
 my capture. 
 
 " Yes," she answered gravely, " and yet would not 
 come with me ; but perhaps you know the reason why, 
 since I divined it." 
 
 But I could not tell her, and she only looked at me 
 and smiled. After this, we talked of other things, and 
 Joyce hoped and prayed that I would be speedily ex 
 changed ; but of this I had less hope than she, yet for 
 bore to tell her so, lest I should bring back the shadow 
 to her blue eyes. She asked me, too, if there was no 
 hope of escape, and how the window of my prison was 
 secured? But here I could give her no encourage 
 ment. The irons seemed too stout for any file, even 
 if I could have used one without arousing the watchful 
 guard. She suggested the old plan of bribing the 
 sentry, and that, too, I rejected ; for I did not believe 
 the man corruptible, since he seemed both honest and 
 resolute. She was also minded to bring me a disguise 
 and let a servant remain in my place ; but this I knew 
 was impossible while Beresford was my keeper, and I 
 felt sure that he would the more closely watch me 
 because he loved her. It fretted my spirit, too, to have 
 her sue for any favor from him, and I told her so ; but 
 she was incorrigible, caring only for my escape before 
 General Howe ordered me into closer confinement. 
 
 "They might send you to the Old Provost," she 
 cried, clasping her hands about my arm in sudden 
 horror ; " there it is that they send the officers, they 
 do not recognize them as such, and I have heard 
 that it is horrible. I know, too, that the Middle Dutch 
 church and the sugar-houses are crowded with rebel
 
 LOVE IN PRISON". 355 
 
 prisoners, and it is said that there is much suffering and 
 illness and scarcity of food. Oh, John, we must get 
 you out I will go to Mr. Howe myself he is not 
 cruel he " 
 
 At this I took her hands firmly in mine, and looked 
 her straight in the eyes, trying to calm her. 
 
 " Joyce," I said gravely, " you will not go to General 
 Howe for me. That I am resolved. You shall not 
 plead for favors for me, especially when they are sore 
 displeased at your brother. The general would not listen 
 to you, nor would Lord Howe. Never shall you be 
 mortified for my sake. If you care for me - ever so 
 little you will obey my earnest wish. I will not accept 
 freedom on the terms that you could get it for me ! " 
 
 At the first she was inclined to protest at this, but 
 as I went on so earnestly, she began to understand, I 
 think, the delicacy of her own position ; but I saw that 
 something fretted her, and she drew her hands away 
 from me and her cheeks flushed. 
 
 " Then Dorothy Wayne must intercede," she said 
 coldly. "You will be happy to commit your cause 
 to her ; she also is a rebel ! " 
 
 Now, this sudden outburst astonished me, and then 
 it came into my mind that she was jealous. Joyce ! 
 The thought that the one woman that I loved was jealous 
 of any other filled me with amazement, and then I 
 smiled. Surely she loved me, since without love there 
 can be no jealousy. So I caught her hands in mine once 
 more, and kissed them, unmindful of the woman, who still 
 looked steadily out at the window. 
 
 " Is it not natural," I said softly, that I had rather 
 Dorothy bore the trial than my Joyce ? " 
 
 "Nay," Joyce said, half angrily; "the woman who 
 loves most should do the most."
 
 356 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " In that case," I whispered joyfully, " I wish that I 
 could let you do it, that I might be assured of your 
 love." 
 
 She relented at my tone, her eyes sank before my 
 glance, and she smiled a little in spite of herself. 
 
 "You do not deserve it," she declared with spirit, 
 "or you would not doubt it, now that I am here." 
 
 " You are a witch," I answered softly, " and I cannot 
 always believe in my own happiness when you frown, 
 and I remember, too, that I am a rebel in your eyes." 
 
 " A rebel ; " she said, and looked at me with a new 
 tenderness in her face, " a prisoner, pale and worn and 
 with a shabby coat and yet my love." 
 
 At this I kissed her again, while the maid leaned out 
 of the window and looked on the street below. For a 
 little while how brief only a lover knows we talked 
 together of the past, the old days in the orchard and by 
 the sea, and forgot the king and the country and the 
 cause, while love was king. Did ever two who loved 
 each other remember so dull a thing as politics at such 
 a time? Verily, not Joyce and I ; and I do think that 
 we were much like other lovers all the world over. 
 Howbeit, our paradise could not long endure; time 
 spared us not, and Joyce could stay no longer. Sharp 
 was the pain of parting ; she could not bear to leave me 
 in so poor a place, and I could not endure the thought 
 of letting all my sunshine go. She clung to me with 
 tears, and I half rejoiced at my plight since it had won 
 her to her tenderest mood. So at last we parted, and 
 I saw her go as the guard returned to secure my prison 
 door. Before it closed upon me, though, I heard 
 Beresford's voice address her, and knew that he was in 
 the hall, and I was mean enough, for the moment, to 
 hate him for being there. He was free to attend her, to
 
 LOVE IN PRISON. 357 
 
 extend a hundred courtesies in this time of trial, and I, 
 who should have aided her, was mewed up in a prison. 
 It was well for him, and for me also, that he came not 
 to see me on that day, for I could scarce have treated 
 him with civility, and yet I owed him much, since he had 
 taken away the guard at the interview. But was ever a 
 jealous lover grateful, and grateful to his rival? I tried 
 not to believe myself jealous then, but thought that I 
 pitied him because he loved Joyce in vain. Yet all the 
 while, in my mind, I saw him going home with her, free 
 to attend her, while I was his prisoner.
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 EPHRAIM WEARS THE KING'S UNIFORM. 
 
 AFTER Joyce's visit came some long blank days when 
 I saw no one but my guard, and heard no voice of 
 sympathy or friendship. I was threatened with removal 
 to the Old Provost, but it came not. Happily for me, 
 the Waynes stood as intercessors for my good treatment, 
 and I suffered little inconvenience save from cold, and 
 from poor and scanty food ; but after the sugar-house I 
 could well endure such small privations. My saddest 
 thoughts were those that dwelt on the poor fellows 
 penned in the hideous prisons, and dying in misery 
 and squalor. I had forborne to tell either Dorothy or 
 Joyce of the misery of those days in the pest-house, since 
 it was of no avail to wound their tender hearts. They 
 learned but too soon the horrors of the gloomy sugar- 
 houses where the prisoners were chained and starv 
 ing, and of the Old Provost, where at one time they 
 were so packed in that, lying on the floor to sleep, it was 
 said, they could only turn over all together at the word 
 of command. This is true, as I believe, and no fable ; 
 and the sentinels threatened to shoot down the chari 
 table who offered alms to those who came to the barred 
 windows of the church prisons. In Wallabout Bay was 
 that pestilent old gun-ship, the Jersey, where our poor 
 fellows of the rank and file lay in all seasons, unsheltered, 
 without minister or physician, and so died, and were 
 buried on the shores of Long Island. Truly, therefore,
 
 Et'HRAIM WEARS THE KING'S UNIFORM. 359 
 
 I had no cause of complaint, though the confinement 
 and the solitude were bitter enough to an active man. 
 As the days went on, I lost hope of an early exchange 
 for myself, and mourned bitterly the fate that kept me 
 closely caged when every man was needed to fight. 
 No tidings came to me, and I could only torment myself 
 with 'imagining the fortunes of the Continental army. 
 Knowing the destitute condition of the men, and that 
 some who were yet enlisted for short periods would 
 soon go to their homes, I could scarce think of the 
 matter with hope. A prison soon destroys hopefulness 
 in the heart and depresses the most buoyant spirit. 
 I thought, too, of my father, whom I had not seen for so 
 long a time, and could easily picture his anxiety and 
 sorrow for me. Greatly did I long for the sea ; penned 
 within four walls, my heart hungered for the ocean, and 
 when I closed my eyes at night, I saw the wide sweep 
 of the waves in Massachusetts Bay, heard the deep roar 
 of the surf, and fancied how the gulls were darting 
 through the flying spray. Far off, too, when the clouds 
 lifted, there must be a golden line at the horizon, where 
 the sky and the water met, a bright and shimmering 
 line, sharply defined by the gray sea below and softly 
 by the drifting cloud above. As though between the 
 two deeps, the upper and the lower, one saw far, far 
 off the shining gates of dawn. In those dreams I 
 felt, too, that the salt wind was smiting my cheek as the 
 tide came in. Oh, I was hungry for the sea, as those 
 are who are born beside it and who crave the sight of 
 it with love and longing, as their oldest, truest friend. 
 From these dreams I awoke, and saw only a room that 
 was a cell and through the bars a bit of heavenly blue. 
 So the days passed on without change. 
 
 One afternoon I heard voices in the yard below and
 
 360 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 went to the window, as eager as a child to look upon a 
 show. Two British soldiers were talking together, and 
 at first I felt only disappointment at so common a sight, 
 and then my attention was riveted upon the taller of the 
 two figures. But for the scarlet coat, which was fresh 
 and new, I should have recognized that lank form in a 
 moment. The uniform fitted ill, however, and not even 
 its splendors could disguise the wearer. I knew him 
 before he turned his head ; it was Ephraim Minot. I 
 gazed at him in some bewilderment, scarcely able to 
 believe the evidence of my own senses. Yet it was he ; 
 I saw him, I heard his drawling voice, and in my heart 
 believed him a knave. I remembered his intimacy with 
 the Tories at Corbie's Tavern, and for a little while 
 imagined many evil things. This was the culmination of 
 his treachery, doubtless, and I saw him in his true colors. 
 While these thoughts were in my mind, he looked up 
 and saw me, but stared at me as though he knew me not, 
 and I turned from the window, feeling only regret that 
 one who had seemed so honest should be so deep a 
 traitor. Yet, after I reflected, my heart smote me for 
 judging him, and I endeavored to see some way out of 
 the mystery. When my supper was brought, I asked 
 my attendant, who talked with him in the garden, and 
 was told that it was an honest man who had come all 
 the way from Massachusetts to enlist in the king's ser 
 vice. Then I knew that for whatever purpose he had 
 come, Ephraim had donned the royal uniform with a lie 
 in his mouth, and this made me more hopeful of his sin 
 cerity, since I knew his love for such maneuvers. Yet 
 was I not wholly satisfied that all was fair, and waited 
 and watched with no little curiosity. The thought that 
 he had come to gain access to me took shape in my 
 mind, and was rejected as the time passed and he made
 
 EPHRAIM WEARS THE KING'S UNIFORM. 361 
 
 no sign. Neither did any word come from Joyce, and I 
 began to believe that I was to be completely isolated. 
 But it is ever the darkest just before the dawn. 
 
 It was evening when my release came at last. It was 
 storming hard, and the rain dashed on my window, but 
 there was no wind. I had sat alone so long that I began 
 to weave my fancies into dreams of freedom on the 
 moors of Essex County. My solitary taper was burning 
 low, and when it went out I should have the darkness for 
 my company. Presently I heard a step in the outer 
 room, coming more quickly than my guard was accus 
 tomed to move, and the bolts went back. I looked up 
 in surprise, since it was unusual for any one to come at 
 that hour. The door opened now, however, to reveal the 
 unmistakable figure of Ephraim Minot. He stopped 
 upon the threshold, for, doubting him, I fixed my 
 eyes upon him coldly. Howbeit he was but little dis 
 concerted, and in a moment came on to the table, where 
 he laid down a bundle and stood regarding me with 
 composure. 
 
 " Well, captain," he said deliberately, " I thought 
 you 'd be better pleased to see me than you seem." 
 
 " Not in that uniform," I answered sternly ; " you 
 force me to think you a deserter." 
 
 " Well, I be darned ! " said Ephraim, with some ap 
 parent amazement ; " I should think that you had known 
 me long enough to believe me honest, as men go." 
 
 " I am loath to think otherwise," I replied, my doubts 
 of him departing as I looked at his shrewd, honest face 
 and the kindly twinkle in his eyes. " I hope that you 
 can tell me a straighter story than you told the corporal 
 yonder." 
 
 At this, the strange fellow smiled a little, as if he 
 enjoyed his own ability to weave a fairy tale.
 
 362 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " I came here for you, Captain Allen," he remarked 
 calmly, untying his bundle and revealing a scarlet uni 
 form and a pistol ; " we have no time to lose, either. I 
 only got the corporal's place for an hour because he was 
 ordered out for other duty; they trusted me, being a 
 simple rustic who loves the king hang him ! " 
 
 " What is this gear? " I asked, pointing at the scarlet 
 coat, which he was shaking out and looking at with affec 
 tionate pride. 
 
 " I stole it," he remarked calmly ; " and poor enough 
 it is, too, but I calculate that it will fit you pretty well. 
 Get it on, captain, we 've no time to lose ; I 've got a 
 dory tied up by the wharf, and it 's one chance in a hun 
 dred. The rain has driven many from the streets, and 
 there is a ball to-night that takes all the officers off to 
 dance, except those who are drinking and gambling at 
 the public houses." 
 
 My heart smote me again for my mean suspicions, and 
 I laid my hand upon his shoulder. 
 
 " Minot," I said, " if there is a risk for you, if we are 
 likely to be taken, I will not go. They would hang you 
 in the morning." 
 
 " Put on the coat, captain," he answered dryly, " or 
 they may hang us both. There is a clean chance for the 
 door ; the sentry below is a stranger, and knows not how 
 many guards are on to-night I have the password, but 
 every minute counts." 
 
 I needed no further urging, and in ten minutes two 
 British soldiers walked down the stairs, leisurely, to 
 awaken no suspicion. Ephraim gave the password at 
 the lower door and we were in the street, and I felt the 
 rain upon my face with the wild joy of a man who has 
 been penned up like a beast. But, being free, I had but 
 the one thought to see Joyce before I left the town, yet
 
 EPHRAIM WEARS THE KING'S UMFORM. 363 
 
 could I so endanger my comrade by delay? While the 
 thought was in my mind, he pressed me to proceed 
 more rapidly, for we were in the vicinity of the Fly 
 Market and here were usually many officers and sol 
 diers. Then I informed him frankly that I desired to 
 see Miss Talbot before I left the place, and bade him 
 leave me, saying I would join him later. At which he 
 told me that she was privy to the whole scheme of my 
 release, had bidden him tell me not to pause an instant, 
 but to fly, for her sake, and he thrust a little note into 
 my hand. I could not read it, but I kissed it in the 
 darkness, and no longer hesitated, reflecting that free I 
 could serve her, and, a prisoner, I was as good as dead. 
 We walked rapidly, and Ephraim led the way toward the 
 Battery. We had thus to cross the town, and passed 
 more than one gay company upon the way to the ball. 
 Ladies in gaudy attire, with waving plumes in the high 
 white structure of their puffs and curls, looked out 
 coquettishly from sedan chairs, their faces lighted by the 
 lanterns of the attendants who ran beside them ; and 
 twice, in the narrow way, we jostled against parties of 
 young officers, but no one accosted us. It was too com 
 mon a sight; two soldiers hurrying through the streets 
 upon an errand was an hourly occurrence. So we came 
 unhindered to the river-bank upon the Hudson, and 
 there, above the Battery, Ephraim had moored his craft 
 at a moment when he was unnoticed. We paused an 
 instant to look out over the black water and listen ; then 
 we were startled by the sound of steps above us, and the 
 sharp challenge of the sentry. He was some yards away, 
 and we leaped into the boat, and Minot cut the moorings 
 before he came up with us. He challenged us again as 
 we pushed off, and then fired. But the night was dark, 
 and two strong men pulled the oars, and the boat shot
 
 364 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 out upon the river. Again and again he fired, and the 
 flash of his weapon shone red in the night, and one 
 bullet struck the water beside us. He shouted to us, and 
 we thought he called to some one for aid to pursue " the 
 knaves." Howbeit we rowed out unharmed, and the 
 night enfolded us, and after a moment there was no 
 sound but the dip of our oars. Doubtless, he decided 
 that two rebels escaping were small loss, and that it 
 would be to his detriment to betray his own negligence. 
 I knew not, and I cared not. I felt that I could sing 
 for joy as the rain beat down ; the sky was above me, 
 and the river lapped against our boat. So we pulled 
 unharmed along the waters, and came at last to Hoboken, 
 and leaving our little craft, leaped upon the shore, free 
 men and safe.
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 A DESPERATE CHARGE. 
 
 THE morning found us in the woods at Hoboken, 
 where we were forced to lie concealed until twilight, as 
 the Jerseys swarmed with British and Hessians. While 
 we sat together in the brushwood, Ephraim told me of 
 all that had happened since my capture ; of the retreat 
 of the Continental army to Newark, and its poor condi 
 tion. It now mustered scarce five thousand men, and 
 the Pennsylvania levies were deserting so constantly that 
 guards were stationed on the roads to intercept and drive 
 them in. The winter was advancing rapidly, and the 
 troops were ragged and barefoot. The whole army, 
 discouraged by defeat, had lost heart in the struggle, and 
 confidence in their leader, who was at this time assailed 
 by petty treachery and malice. Lee and Gates were both 
 plotting his overthrow, aspiring themselves to the su 
 preme command, and their criticisms of his actions were 
 sowing the seeds of doubt and dissension. I saw that even 
 Ephraim 's cool courage was somewhat daunted, and verily 
 we had but little cause for hope. The dreariness of the 
 late autumn was about us ; the ground was strewn with 
 dead leaves that rustled sadly in the cold wind. The 
 only thing alive was the scarlet-hooded woodpecker 
 above our heads, drilling the bark of a naked tree. 
 
 Lord Cornwallis had crossed the Hackensack, and 
 there seemed little hope of saving the Jerseys. Dreary 
 was the prospect before the army, and difficulties beset
 
 366 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 our own journey to the camp. We obtained horses that 
 night, and so advanced more rapidly, but were in constant 
 anticipation of being captured again, once passing through 
 a little settlement scarce three hundred yards ahead of a 
 detachment of Donop's Hessians. But no doubt our red 
 coats did us good service, since at last we entered 
 Newark, safe and sound. Right welcome were we, and 
 even his Excellency showed his hearty pleasure at our 
 escape ; nor did he forget to reward Ephraim for his ser 
 vice, making him a corporal that day. 
 
 Dick was not with the army when I returned, having 
 been sent out on duty with a small detachment, but when 
 he came back, he welcomed me with warm affection. Since 
 the night when he had shown his heart to me, there had 
 been a certain tenderness between us ; at the sight of him 
 I thought of Joyce's anger at his fickleness, but forbore 
 to tell him, though he asked me, how she felt toward him. 
 There had been no opportunity for the exchange of let 
 ters, and he only half divined the anger that the stout little 
 royalist felt at his desertion. Happily, our talk was less 
 of that than of some way to get Joyce and her mother 
 out of New York. He had written a simple, manly 
 letter to Lord Howe, asking that they be permitted to 
 depart, but had received no answer, nor did we greatly 
 hope for one. The chance of bringing them away by 
 stealth remained ; but this was fraught with danger, nor 
 did it seem feasible on account of Lady Talbot, since it 
 would probably entail long and hard riding, and in winter 
 weather ; yet now seemed our only opportunity, before 
 the Continental army was forced across the Raritan. 
 This was not only possible but inevitable, for the British 
 were pressing on in great numbers, while our own di 
 minished. So we plotted together, and called Ephraim 
 to our counsels ; but he shook his head, pointing out the
 
 A DESPERATE CHARGE. 367 
 
 fact that my too easily compassed escape would arouse 
 greater vigilance along the river-banks, and that my con 
 nection with the Talbots was known or suspected by the 
 officers. The knowledge, too, that Dick was in our camp 
 would make them doubly watchful of the Talbot house, 
 and any attempt might end in a disaster which would bar 
 all possibilities of escape. Yet I would not surrender my 
 purpose ; I had Joyce's little note, written in haste on 
 that night, to bid me speed upon my flight, and its tone 
 was one of sadness. I read between the lines and knew 
 that their lot in the Tory city was no happy one, and I 
 was not minded to leave my love to the poor hospitality 
 of Mr. Howe. When I unfolded my grievance to Gen 
 eral Washington, he listened to me with more than his 
 usual kindness, and was clearly upon my side. Doubt 
 less, he felt that he would never leave one of his dear 
 ones in such a strait, and I received his full consent to 
 undertake the enterprise ; he permitted me to take 
 Ephraim and another soldier of the Massachusetts Bay, 
 also allowing us horses, though he warned me kindly that 
 the effort was a bold one and full of peril ; especially 
 so, since it seemed now inevitable that he must fall back 
 from Newark. So close-pressed were we by the enemy 
 that my project could not be executed at once, and Lord 
 Cornwallis advanced so rapidly that we were compelled 
 to abandon our position and withdraw to New Bruns 
 wick. Another disaster also fell at this time upon the 
 Continental army, though some of us looked on it as a 
 blessing in disguise. This was the capture of General 
 Charles Lee, who fell into the enemy's hands at Basking- 
 ridge, some eleven miles from Morristown. He owed 
 his capture to his own carelessness, and was taken while 
 eating his breakfast at the tavern, having but a small 
 guard with him. The Philistines made great rejoicing
 
 368 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 at this capture, since they counted him our greatest 
 general, having no comprehension of the qualities of 
 his Excellency. Nor is this greatly to be marvelled at, 
 since our own people grumbled at the latter's constant 
 retreats, seeing no wisdom in his efforts to save his 
 poor and ragged army from destruction. I do remem 
 ber that I often questioned the wisdom of his move 
 ments myself, and fretted, as a young man will, for great 
 achievements. 
 
 The movements of the enemy had disconcerted my 
 plans, and forced me to be inactive. We had then but 
 little hope to do aught but rescue the army from the 
 toils of Cornwallis, since we had been forced back, 
 before Lee's capture, from New Brunswick to Trenton 
 and thence across the Delaware, barely saving the 
 whole detachment. My prospects of reaching Joyce at 
 that time seemed forlorn, and Ephraim took the oppor 
 tunity of pointing out the wisdom of his argument ; yet 
 was I not one whit shaken in my resolution. But just at 
 present there was no prospect of success, for it was with 
 difficulty that General Washington had cut through the 
 cordon of the king's troops to carry our army across the 
 Delaware, and now upon the opposite banks lay the 
 Hessians. From Bordentown to the Black Horse was 
 stationed the division of Count Donop and Knyphausen, 
 Lossberg and Rahl were at Trenton, while the rest of the 
 enemy's forces were cantoned through the Jerseys, form 
 ing an effectual blockade between the Delaware and New 
 York. The rapine and violence of the Hessians had 
 made them a terror to the people, which did us much 
 service, by rallying the yeomen to our cause. In this 
 province they had shown no warmth for the freedom of 
 the colonies when confronted by the King's army, but 
 they had no pleasure in seeing their hearths violated and
 
 A DESPERATE CHARGE. 369 
 
 their goods confiscated ; so violence often made patriots 
 where sentiment had not. 
 
 In the hour of confidence comes often disaster, and 
 so it was with these same Hessians. Rejoicing at their 
 too easy success and confident in their own invincibility, 
 they grew contemptuous of their ragged foes. Then 
 came opportunity knocking at our door, and Washington 
 was not slow to welcome it. We, who were not of his 
 counsels, could divine nothing save that he was mani 
 festly planning some assault upon the enemy. Dick and 
 I waited with impatience, for inactivity and retreat were 
 alike bitter trials to us, and we both longed to cut through 
 the lines and get to New York. 
 
 It was Christmas Day when the orders came for us to 
 assemble before sunset at McKonkey's Ferry and pre 
 pare to cross the Delaware. Joy and dismay were in 
 the hearts of many, joy at the thought of action, dis 
 may at the prospect of a long march at such a season. 
 Snow lay upon the ground, and ice floated on the dark 
 waters of the Delaware. Toward evening the wind rose 
 and the cold was biting, yet no man faltered as the 
 detachments formed and marched along the river-banks, 
 leaving behind them a trail of blood from bleeding feet, 
 for the men were without shoes and ragged, so that they 
 indeed seemed " the tatterdemalions" that the redcoats 
 called them. It was the day of peace ; yet peace was 
 not in our hearts, but a stern resolution to do or die. 
 Our numbers, Heaven knows, were few enough, but 
 we lacked not the spirit of endurance. His Excellency 
 himself, with a stern countenance, went through the 
 lines, giving his orders, watching all with his tireless 
 zeal ; and we who looked on his face knew that he was 
 resolved to make a mighty effort to retrieve the fortunes 
 of his army. The watchword that he gave us was, " Vic- 
 
 24
 
 3/0 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 tory or death." The troops were to proceed in three 
 detachments. One, under General Putnam, was to come 
 from Philadelphia ; but the brave old man was forced to 
 remain to watch that city, which was on the brink of 
 open rebellion, and only five hundred of his soldiers 
 came. Another division was to cross at the ferry below 
 Trenton ; while the other, under General Washington and 
 General Greene, was. to pass over at McKonkey's Ferry. 
 We knew that we were to attack the Hessians at Trenton, 
 and were the more impressed with the importance of 
 our errand since these hirelings were so greatly dreaded 
 by the colonists. 
 
 Strange was the scene, as we waited for the early 
 darkness to fall that we might cross the river. The 
 barren whiteness of the landscape over which the wind 
 swept bitter cold, contrasted with the black waters of 
 the Delaware, while overhead the great clouds began 
 to drift again. The detachment, not fifteen hundred 
 strong, stood resting on their arms, the trains of artillery 
 in the rear, and in front Colonel Glover's brave seamen 
 of Marblehead, who were to take the army over the 
 perilous river. General Washington rode up and down 
 the columns, encouraging, admonishing, directing ; no 
 sign of his anxiety upon him save that calm, stern 
 manner that spoke more than words. Dick and I stood 
 together. I was at the head of my own regiment, and 
 looked about me at the ragged, barefoot, shivering rustics, 
 and thought how deep must be the weight of care upon 
 the general's heart. It was a pitiful sight, too, God 
 knows ; here were young boys, fresh from the farm or 
 fishing-boat, gray-headed, weather-worn veterans, and 
 strong men with stern faces, all so forlorn, so exposed 
 to the fury of the elements, but trusting simply for 
 they were, for the most part, religious folk in a higher
 
 A DESPERATE CHARGE. 371 
 
 power. Verily, victory would never have come to such 
 as these save through the Lord of Hosts. 
 
 It was twilight when we began to cross ; the wind was 
 high, and the current strong, while floating ice was every 
 where. His Excellency went with the head of the 
 column ; with great difficulty and peril we came over to 
 the farther bank, and there took our position while the 
 artillery was brought over. This being a great labor and 
 most dangerous, it was slow and tedious. Hour after 
 hour we waited on the bank, nigh frozen in the biting 
 cold, and yet the transports were not wholly landed. I 
 remember how we walked to and fro, and beat our hands 
 against our breasts to keep life in them. One poor 
 fellow froze to death that night, and how pitilessly the 
 fierce wind blew ! The thick darkness that screened our 
 movements was fearsome in that season of peril, and 
 through it came the shouts of the officers, the cries of 
 the men, the rumbling of artillery on the frozen ground. 
 The great voice of Knox sounded like a trumpet, through 
 the thick of it, so that he was much relied on for trans 
 mitting orders. The tempest rose in fury, and the ice 
 drove down the river, threatening all with destruction. 
 Stout hearts were troubled, and the weak grumbled; 
 but no man dared to stay his hand, for we knew that the 
 general stood there watching all, and that his stern soul 
 was set upon his purpose. Thus it is that one man, 
 being great, can wield an army, as a single sword, where 
 with to smite his enemy. 
 
 It was between three and four in the morning when, 
 the whole force being landed, we set our faces toward 
 Trenton. We were to make a circuit by the Pennington 
 road to the north of the town, while the other column, 
 that had crossed at Howland's Ferry, was to meet us a.. 
 Trenton by the west road, nearer the river. It was
 
 372 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 nine miles, and we could not reach it before dawn ; but 
 it was now too late to retreat, nor could we leave the 
 other column to its fate. The tempest had burst fiercely, 
 and snow and hail swept in our faces, while the cold was 
 like a knife, as we struggled up the steep hill beyond 
 the river and then down to the road, which led us 
 through a forest of hickory, ash, and black oak, where 
 the wind howled about us and the ground was slippery 
 beneath our feet. Yet there was a mercy also in the 
 storm ; the heavy snow deadened all sound, and driving 
 fast, it was like a white curtain through which the dawn 
 ing day shone dim. Our muskets, however, were wet 
 and well nigh useless, and there were murmurs on this 
 account ; but the order soon came sharp and short : 
 " Advance and charge." There was no alternative then 
 but the bayonet. I pressed forward, and was close to 
 his Excellency, who came first to the outskirts of the 
 town. It was eight o'clock, and by the wayside a rustic 
 was cutting wood. Washington asked him the direction 
 to the Hessian picket, receiving but a surly answer until 
 an officer cried out that it was his Excellency. The 
 countryman dropped his hatchet, and with a changed 
 face raised his hands toward heaven. 
 
 " God bless and prosper you ! " cried he ; " the 
 picket is in that house, and the sentry stands near that 
 tree." 
 
 Then came our orders to dislodge the picket, and we 
 of the advance guard marched forward at double quick. 
 We took them by surprise, and well nigh trapped them, 
 like rats in a hole. Making but little sound upon the 
 snow, we were upon them ere they could rally. We 
 heard the shout " Der Feind ! " and then, as we dashed 
 forward, came wild cries, " Heraus, heraus ! " At the 
 first they stood, a moment, to their arms and then
 
 A DESPERATE CHARGE. 373 
 
 broke wildly, and we drove them in. There was a party 
 behind them, to support the picket ; but this also broke 
 before our impetuous assault. On we charged, driving 
 them before us, and in the thick tumult we could hear 
 the drums beating the alarm, and in the town the trum 
 pets of the light horse blew.
 
 .CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 THE SUN SHINES THROUGH THE CLOUDS. 
 
 THE Hessians fell back behind the house, firing upon 
 us as they went, but offering no great resistance, doubt 
 less believing us to be in great numbers. The thick 
 weather favored us, making us seem an army, and we 
 advanced with loud cheers, inspired with new hope at 
 the sight of their confusion. The wildest disorder pre 
 vailed; men rushed from the houses, as if distracted, 
 while others fired from the windows, and the dragoons 
 dashed through the streets without apparent purpose. 
 But when we came to the main street we saw that some 
 Hessians were endeavoring to train their cannon upon 
 us, and a battery here would have wrought great mis 
 chief in our ranks. We knew that the main column 
 was close behind us, and so the peril was the more im 
 minent. With a shout we dashed forward, led by young 
 Captain Washington and Lieutenant Monroe, and drove 
 the artillerymen from their posts just as they were on 
 the point of firing. Here was the fiercest fight, and 
 both our leaders were wounded. One stout Hessian 
 sprang upon me, trying to knock me down with the 
 butt end of his weapon ; but I wrenched it away and 
 felled him with it. After one wild moment of blood 
 and tumult, we triumphed, and the guns were ours. 
 While we stood beside them, the scene was past all 
 description, the rout and confusion of the enemy being 
 complete. General Washington and his column were
 
 THE SUA" SHJNES THROUGH THE CLOUDS. 375 
 
 at the head of King Street, while on the west and south 
 charged Sullivan and Stark. Surprised, caught in a 
 trap, and terrified by our imagined force, the Hessians, 
 who had endeavored to face us, broke again, and fled 
 toward the bridge that crossed the Assunpink. I saw 
 Colonel Rahl, so lately famous for his share in the vic 
 tory at Fort Washington, endeavoring to rally his troops ; 
 but he appeared as bewildered as the others, reeling in 
 his saddle as he rode. We drove them through the 
 streets, and many fell at once into our hands as prisoners, 
 though others died, fighting gallantly. The cries of the 
 wounded, the crash of arms, the shout of victory, all 
 were mingled, and about us lay the dead and dying. 
 
 We had gone on in pursuit of the flying Hessians, for 
 the town was ours ; our battery frowned upon the main 
 street, our soldiers held the strong positions, and in our 
 triumph we forgot our hardships. As we charged again 
 beyond the town, we found that Rahl had rallied his 
 grenadiers in an orchard, and he came rushing back 
 upon us, more like a madman than aught else, since 
 verily he came but to his death. Bravely, gallantly 
 they advanced, these Germans ; but we met them with 
 the impetuosity that men feel when flushed with victory, 
 and in the mele Rahl fell from his horse, wounded or 
 dead, we knew not which, and his brave troops retreated 
 once again, this time fleeing along the right bank of 
 the Assunpink, doubtless meaning to reach Princeton. 
 I shouted to my men to follow, and charged, just as a 
 company of Pennsylvanians cut them off in front and 
 the Virginians came up on the other wing. They, the 
 Hessians, had formed as though to resist us, and our 
 guns were trained upon them, when suddenly some one 
 cried out, 
 
 " They have struck their colors ! "
 
 3/6 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 It was true. They surrendered at discretion, and as 
 we came up, I saw tears of shame on many a war-worn 
 cheek ; they were proud of their great record, and deeply 
 mortified to yield to our barefoot and ragged men. It 
 snowed not now ; but all the scene was white, save for 
 the cruel stains upon the drifts about us. The Hessian 
 columns stood dejected upon the river-bank, their colors 
 struck, and their whole appearance suggesting despair ; 
 while around them gathered the forlornly dressed but 
 victorious soldiers of the Continental army, a mighty 
 contrast and a pitiful one. His Excellency rode up, 
 with the glow of hope and triumph on his face, and 
 received the sword of Colonel Rahl, who, covered with 
 blood and white as death, resigned it with an air of such 
 deep dejection that the stoutest heart among us was 
 moved to pity. Our commander treated him with the 
 kindness that was worthy of his noble heart, being ever 
 generous to a fallen foe, and ordered him to be removed 
 to the house of some friend whom Rahl designated ; 
 aud as the captive was too sorely spent with his wounds 
 to walk or ride, he was carried with both care and 
 tenderness. 
 
 The rush of the battle being over, I began to look 
 for Dick, who had been separated from me, and found 
 him not. A sudden fear overwhelmed me that he had 
 fallen, and I ran back to the town, looking on every 
 hand. Wherever I saw a poor fellow lying stretched 
 upon the snow I stopped with beating heart, and more 
 than one I knelt beside until he died because at the 
 sight of my face that look of anguish, that appeal for 
 help came into dying eyes, and I had not heart to leave 
 the passing soul. Not yet finding Dick, I came again 
 to the main street, and searched among the dead, where 
 they lay thickest about the cannon ; our own loss had
 
 THE SUN SHINES THROUGH THE CLOUDS. 377 
 
 been small, but here were many Hessians. While I 
 was thus sadly engaged, I looked up and saw Ephraim, 
 and called to him for news of Richard Talbot. 
 
 " He has gone to the house where they have carried 
 Colonel Rahl," Minot replied, " I saw him go awhile 
 ago." 
 
 Perplexed at this, I lost no time in finding the way 
 thither, though I could not fancy Richard's errand, since 
 he had not been with us to receive the orders. Ephraim 
 told me that it was the home of some Quaker, so the 
 people told him, and he directed me to the door. Here 
 I found a guard of soldiers, and no little stir; it was 
 thought that Rahl was dying, and indeed he was not to 
 linger long. The street door stood open, and the hall 
 being full of officers and soldiers, I entered without 
 ceremony. Within all was hushed ; death and sorrow 
 had both entered here, and even our own men pitied the 
 deep misery of the fallen soldier. To him was due, as 
 it proved, the loss of Trenton and the capture of their 
 colors, and he took it deeply to heart, preferring to die 
 rather than live and face dishonor. He had been in his 
 cups the night before, and had not heeded the warning 
 he received, that we were coming. The greatest faults 
 of the king's officers were their love for drink and the 
 gaming-table. They had not our bitter struggle to make, 
 and therefore had the leisure to indulge their vices, and 
 gambling was at that time very fashionable. 
 
 I passed the guards in the hall, and went to the rear 
 of the house, searching for Dick, and seeing no one of 
 the household save a little Quaker maid, who fled 
 affrighted at the sight of a strange soldier with blood 
 upon his clothes and all dishevelled, as I was, from 
 battle. I was turning back disappointed, when suddenly 
 a door opened on the right and a sweet- faced old
 
 378 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 Quaker lady stood before me. Saluting her, I asked 
 courteously if she knew where I could find a young 
 officer, Richard Talbot, who had come there, they told 
 me, but I could not find him, and feared that he was 
 wounded. She looked at me a moment in silence, taken 
 as it seemed by surprise, and then amazed me yet more. 
 
 " Thy name, I think, is John Allen of Salem ; is it not 
 so?" she asked calmly. 
 
 I answered that it was, but could not hide my astonish 
 ment. Without a word she stepped back and called to 
 some one in the room from whence she came, while I 
 stood alone before the door, sorely bewildered. Then 
 sounded a dog's quick bark of welcome, and Laddie 
 sprang upon my knee. Before I could recover from 
 this surprise, a slight figure came suddenly from within 
 and ran to me with a low, joyful cry. 
 
 " They told me that you had fallen ! " Joyce cried, 
 and fainted in my arms.
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 A ROYALIST SURRENDERS. 
 
 HERE in Trenton, in the Quaker's house, I found not 
 only Joyce and Dick, but also Lady Talbot and Dorothy 
 Wayne. While the household attended upon Rahl, we 
 sat together in the quiet room, and heard the story of 
 their happy escape from New York. To Dorothy they 
 owed it all. It was she who planned it, when she found 
 how both Lady Talbot and Joyce mourned at being 
 shut up in the town while Dick was with us. The older 
 woman had been most unhappy at the change and sepa 
 ration, and so Dorothy came to their aid. She obtained 
 an escort to go to Trenton to the house of these Quakers, 
 her mother's friends, and from there she had intended 
 to go on to Philadelphia, when she could obtain passes 
 through our lines. She had brought my love and Lady 
 Talbot, disguised as her attendants, fearing Sir William 
 Howe would refuse to let them go, for he had not for 
 given Dick his change of colors. Thus it was to Dorothy 
 that I owed this new happiness. The whole party had 
 been delayed at Trenton by the fearful weather, and 
 had witnessed the battle with mingled hopes and fears. 
 Dick they had seen upon the street and called him in, 
 and he, it seemed, thought that I had fallen ; a soldier 
 having stopped to tell him that I was slain when charg 
 ing the cannon. Joyce had overheard the story, and thus 
 it was that joy overcame her at the sight of me.
 
 3 SO A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 So did the tumult of the day end for us in peace and 
 happiness, while in another room poor Colonel Rahl lay 
 dying. Verily, in the midst of life we are in death, and 
 love and grief, under the same roof, rejoice and weep, 
 as the sun breaks sometimes through the blackest cloud, 
 and the rainbow shines ere the storm is over. 
 
 Trenton was ours ; but it seemed that there might be 
 small fruit from this victory, since the whole plan 
 had not been successfully executed, and there were 
 enough Hessians in the Jerseys to do us much mischief. 
 General Washington decided almost at once to quit the 
 town, and the Hessian prisoners were sent off to New- 
 town. He came himself, with General Greene, to see 
 the dying Rahl, and gave him much comfort by his 
 promise to be merciful to the captives. The nobility 
 and the generous kindness of his Excellency's character 
 showed best at such a crisis. We all loved him and 
 venerated him the more, seeing him unmoved amid the 
 jealousies and criticisms that had assailed him most 
 sharply in his trials. It was when he came upon this 
 errand of mercy, to see the dying foreigner, that he 
 called me aside and told me kindly that my gallant 
 conduct, as he was pleased to called it, at the cap 
 ture of the enemy's guns had made me a major, and he 
 congratulated me upon my elevation. Good fortune 
 came, too, to faithful Ephraim Minot, who was promoted 
 to a place in the general's own body-guard ; and the old 
 green coat departed at last, to be replaced by the buff 
 and blue, which Ephraim donned with a pride that was 
 the more amusing because unusual. From that hour he 
 was closely attached to the person of his Excellency, 
 and served him to the end, though as faithful as ever 
 to me. 
 
 It was the day after Colonel Rahl's death that my
 
 A ROYALIST SURRENDERS. 381 
 
 father came to Trenton, and we had the joy of seeing 
 each other once more after our long separation. I had 
 been since then in prison, and our reunion was one of 
 great happiness. There was pressing need to decide 
 upon some course in regard to I-ady Talbot and Joyce ; 
 they could not remain so near the enemy, and Dick 
 agreed with us that it was best to take them to Phila 
 delphia. We accordingly obtained leave to escort them 
 thither. Dorothy, however, would remain with her 
 Quaker friends and presently return to New York, being 
 unwilling to leave her grandparents for any length of 
 time. Nor would she come to witness my wedding, 
 which was to take place in Philadelphia, since I would 
 delay it no longer. Joyce had not consented, at the 
 first, to so hasty a marriage ; but my father partly helped 
 me win my cause, since between these two there was a 
 very sweet affection. When he saw her first at Trenton, 
 he held out his hands smiling. 
 
 " Ah, Joyce, little maid," he said gently, " have you 
 forgiven me for my disloyalty to the king? I have 
 looked on you ever as my daughter is it so, at last ? " 
 
 She, blushing and tearful, put her hands in his, like a 
 child, and kissed him, and so they were friends once 
 more, though indeed with him she had never quarrelled. 
 
 General Washington's resolution to recross the Dela 
 ware at once, compelled us to move with all the haste 
 we could, and so we made all our preparations to 
 depart immediately. Upon the eve of the day that we 
 had chosen, I found the opportunity, at last, to thank 
 Dorothy. She had avoided all acknowledgment of 
 her aid and constant friendship, and even now shrank 
 from any mention of it. I remember well how she 
 looked as she stood there in the hall, in her simple 
 gown, which was the soft gray color of a summer cloud,
 
 382 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 with a white kerchief folded on her bosom. I had 
 never seen her face so pale nor her clear eyes so dark. 
 She put away my thanks, and told me that I owed her 
 nothing. 
 
 " Nay," I said, smiling, " whom then must I thank, if 
 not my good angel ? " 
 
 "Some one who deserves it more," she answered 
 simply. " Lady Talbot and Joyce were wearing out their 
 hearts in New York. I would have been less than kind 
 had I not tried to help them." 
 
 " As you helped me," I said gravely, "as you help us 
 all, kind, gentle, generous, surely your own good 
 ness blesses you ! " 
 
 At this, she smiled. " I need the blessing," she 
 answered in a low tone, " but I deserve it not. I wish 
 you all happiness " she added. " I have not spoken 
 of it before, but it was not from lack of appreciation of 
 Joyce, for I love her. May you be happy as you 
 both deserve ! " 
 
 "To you I owe it," I replied, and took her hands 
 and kissed them. 
 
 She looked at me with a white face ; then without a 
 word she snatched away her hands, and the tears ran 
 down her cheeks. As suddenly, she fled from me, 
 running up the stairs, and though I called to her, she 
 turned not, but went on. I stood amazed, looking 
 upward and not knowing what to think. I feared that 
 in my rough and blundering way I had offended her, 
 and yet I knew not how. While I stood thus, sore 
 perplexed, my love came from one of the rooms where 
 sat the others, and to her I told all that had happened, 
 told her that I greatly feared that I had offended 
 Dorothy, and nothing was further from my heart. 
 Joyce smiled, saying that she was sure I had given no
 
 A LOYALIST SURRENDERS. 383 
 
 offence, at which I declared that the ways of women 
 were past finding out, and if I had not offended I could 
 not understand Dorothy's tears. Joyce made no answer 
 to this, at first, but after a while she smiled. 
 
 " You are dull," she said softly ; " bless your loyal 
 heart for the dulness." 
 
 " Dull I may be," I replied, " but never thought to 
 hear you call me loyal, so long was I a rebel Yankee 
 in your eyes." 
 
 At which she laughed softly, looking at me with 
 shining eyes. 
 
 " A rebel you are, sir," she said sweetly; '* and so am 
 I a rebel, for the love of you ! " 
 
 THE END.
 
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