and day after day sentinels had been missing. Worse than this,
they had been surprised, apparently, and carried off without giving
any alarm or having time to utter a sound. It would happen that
a sentinel went forward to his post with finger upon his trigger,
while his comrades searched the woods around and found them empty.
When the relief came, the man would just be missing. That was all.
There was never a trace left to show the manner in which he had been
conveyed away: only, now and then, a few drops of blood splashed
on the leaves where he had been standing.
The men grew more and more uneasy. Most suspected treachery. It was
unreasonable, they argued, to believe that man after man could be
surprised without having time even to fire his musket. Others talked
of magic, and grew gloomy with strange suspicions of the Indian
medicinemen. At any rate, here was a mystery. Time would clear it
up, no doubt; but meanwhile the sentry despatched to his post felt
like a man marked out for death. It was worse. Many men who would
have marched with firm step to death in any familiar shape, would
go with pale cheeks and bowed knees to this fate of which nothing
was known except that nothing was left of the victim.
Matters at length grew intolerable. One morning, the sentinels
having been set as usual overnight, the guard went as soon as dawn
began to break to relieve a post that extended far into the woods.
The sentinel was gone! They searched about, found his footprints
here and there on the trodden leaves, but no blood--no trace of
struggle, no marks of surrounding enemies. It was the old story,
however, and they had almost given up the problem by this time.
They left another man at the post, and went their way back, wishing
him better luck.
"No need to be afraid," he called after them, "I will not desert."
They looked back. He was standing with his musket ready to fly up
to his shoulder at the slightest sound, his eyes searching the glades
before him. There was nothing faint about Tom, they determined,
and returned to the guard-house.
The sentinels were replaced every four hours, and at the regular
time the guard again marched to relieve the post. The man was gone!
They rubbed their eyes, and searched again. But this one had disappeared
as mysteriously as his fellows. Again there was no single trace.
But it was all the more necessary that the post should not remain
unguarded. They were forced to leave a third man and return, promising
him that the colonel should be told of his danger as soon as they
got back.
It was panic indeed that filled the regiment when they returned
to the guard-house and told the news. The colonel was informed
at once. He promised to go in person to the spot when the man was
relieved, and search the woods round about. This gave them some
confidence, but they went nevertheless with the gloomiest forebodings
as to their comrade's fate. As they drew near the spot they advanced
at a run. Their fears were justified. The post was vacant--the
man gone without a sound.
In the blank astonishment that followed, the colonel hesitated.
Should he station a whole company at the post? This would doubtless
prevent further loss; but then it was little likely to explain the
mystery; for the hands that had carried off three sentinels, would,
it was reasonable to believe, make no attempt to spirit away a
whole company of men. And for future action as well as to put an
end to the superstitious terror of the soldiery, the vital necessity
was to clear up the mystery. He had no belief in the theory that these
men deserted. He knew them too well. He prided himself mat he was
thoroughly acquainted with his own regiment, and had well-grounded
reasons for pride in his men. For this reason he was the more chary
of exposing a fourth brave man where three had already been lost.
However, it had to be done. The poor fellow whose turn it was to take
the post, though a soldier of proved courage and even recklessness
in action, positively shook from head to foot.
"I must do my duty," he said to the colonel. "I know that well
enough; but for all that I should like to lose my life with a bit
of credit."
There was no higher bravery than facing an indefinite terror such
as this, as the colonel was at pains to point out, but he added--
"I will leave no man here against his will."
Immediately a soldier stepped out of the ranks.
"Give me the post," he said quietly.
The colonel looked at the volunteer admiringly, and spoke some
words in praise of his courage.
"No," said the man; "I have an idea, that is all. What I promise
you is that I will not be taken alive. I shall give you a deal of
trouble; because you will hear of me on the least alarm. If I am
given this post, I propose to fire my piece if I hear the slightest
noise. If a bird chatters or a leaf falls, my musket shall go off.
Of course you may be alarmed when nothing is the matter; but that's
my condition, and you must take the chance."
"Take the chance!" said the colonel. "It's the very wisest thing
you can do, You're a fellow of courage, and what's more, you're a
fellow with a head."
He shook hands with him, as did the rest of the soldiers, with
faces full of foreboding. "Come," said the man, "don't look so
glum; cheer up, and I shall have a story to tell you when we meet
again."
They left him and went back to the guard-room again. An hour passed
away in suspense. It seemed as though every ear in the regiment
were on the rack for the discharge of that musket. Hardly a man
spoke, but as the minutes dragged along the conviction gained ground
that already the brave man had followed the fate of the other three.
The colonel paced up and down in the guard-room, as anxious as any
of the men. He looked at his watch for the twentieth time. An hour
and twenty minutes had gone.
Suddenly, down in the woods, the report of a musket rang out.
Colonel, officers, and men poured out of the guard-room, almost
without a word, and advanced at a double through the woods. The
mystery was going to be solved at last. Until quite close to the
spot, they were forced, by the thickness of the forest, to remain
in ignorance of what had happened, and whether their comrade was
dead or alive. But they shouted, and an answering "Halloa!" at
last came back. As they turned into the glade where the sentinel
had been posted, they beheld him advancing towards them and dragging
another man along the ground by the hair of the head.
He flung the body down. It was an Indian, stone-dead, with a
musket-wound in his side.
"How did it happen?" panted the colonel, beside himself with joy.
"Well," said the soldier, saluting, "I gave your honor notice that
I should fire if I heard the least noise. That's what I did, and
it saved my life; and it just happened in this way.
"I hadn't been long standing here, peering round till my eyes ached,
when I heard a rustling about fifty yards away. I looked and saw an
American hog, of the sort that are common enough in these parts,
coming down the glade opposite, crawling along the ground and
sniffing to right and left--just as if he'd no business in life
but to sniff about for nuts under the fallen leaves and all about
the roots of the trees. Boars are common enough, so I gave him a
glance and didn't take much notice for some minutes.
"But after a while, thinks I to myself--'No doubt the others
kept their eyes about them sharp enough, and was only took in by
neglecting something that seemed of no account;' so being on the
alarm and having no idea what was to be feared and what was not,
I woke up after some minutes and determined to keep my eyes on it
and watch how it passed in and out among the trees. For I thought,
if it comes on an Indian skulking about yonder, I may be able to
learn something from its movements. Indians are thick enough here
and to spare: but they're not so thick as nuts, for all that.
"So I kept glancing at the hog, and then looking round and glancing
again. Not another creature was in sight; not a leaf rustling. And
then, all of a sudden--I can't tell why--it struck me as queer that
the animal was snuffling around among the trees and making off to
the right, seemingly for the thick coppice just behind my post. I
didn't want anything behind me, you may be sure, not even a hog,
and as it was now only a few yards from my coppice I kept my eye
more constantly on it, and cast up in my mind whether I should fire
or not.
"It seemed foolish enough to rouse you all up by shooting a pig!
I fingered my trigger, and couldn't for the life of me make up my
mind what to do. I looked and looked, and the more I looked the
bigger fool I thought myself for being alarmed at it. It would be
a rare jest against me that I mistook a pig for an Indian; and this
was a hog sure enough. You've all seen scores of them, and know
how they move. Well, this one was for all the world like any other,
and I was almost saying to myself that'twas more like the average
hog than any hog I'd ever seen, when just as it got close to the
thicket I fancied it gave an unusual spring.
"At any rate, fancy or no, I didn't hesitate. I took cool aim, and
directly I did so, felt sure I was right. The beast stopped in a
hesitating sort of way, and by that I knew it saw what I was about,
though up to the moment it had never seemed to be noticing me. 'An
Indian's trick, for a sovereign,' thought I, and pulled the trigger.
"It dropped over like a stone; and then, as I stood there, still
doubting if it were a trap that I should fall into by running to
look, I heard a groan--and the groan of a man, too. I loaded my
musket and ran up to it. I had shot an Indian, sure enough, and
that groan was his last.
"He had wrapped himself in the hog's skin so completely, and his
hands and feet were so neatly hid, and he imitated the animal's walk
and noise so cleverly, that I swear, if you saw the trick played
again, here before you, your honor would doubt your honor's eyes.
And seeing him at a distance, in the shadow of the trees, no man
who had not lost three comrades before him, as I had, would ever
have guessed. Here's the knife and tomahawk the villain had about
him. You see, once in the coppice he had only to watch his moment
for throwing off the skin and jumping on me from behind; a dig
in the back before a man had time to fire his piece was easy work
enough. After that it's easier still to drag the body off and hide
it under a heap of leaves. The rebels pay these devils by the scalp,
and no doubt if your honor looks about, you'll find the collection
our friend here has already made to-day."
THE MAN IN THE "AUGER HOLE."
By Frank R. Stockton
When we consider the American Revolution, we are apt to think of
it as a great war which all the inhabitants of the Colonies rose
up against Great Britain, determined, no matter what might be the
hardships and privations, no matter what the cost in blood and money,
to achieve their independence and the right to govern themselves.
But this was not the case. A great majority of the people of the
Colonies were ardently in favor of independence; but there were
also a great many people, and we have no right to say that some
of them were not very good people, who were as well satisfied that
their country should be a colony of Great Britain as the Canadians
are now satisfied with that state of things, and who were earnestly
and honestly opposed to any separation from the mother country.
This difference of opinion was the cause of great trouble and
bloodshed among the colonists themselves, and the contests between
the Tories and the Whigs were nowhere more bitter than in New
Jersey. In some parts of the Colony, families were divided against
themselves; and not only did this result in quarrels and separations,
but fathers and sons, and brothers and brothers, fought against
each other. At one time the Tories, or, as they came to be called,
"refugees," were in such numbers that they took possession of the
town of Freehold, and held it for more than a week; and when at
last the town was retaken by the patriotic forces, most of them
being neighbors and friends of the refugees, several prominent
Tories were hanged, and many others sent to prison.
The feeling between the Americans of the two different parties was
more violent than that between the patriots and the British troops,
and before long it became entirely unsafe for any Tory to remain
in his own home in New Jersey. Many of them went to New York, where
the patriotic feeling was not so strong at that time, and there
they formed themselves into a regular military company called the
"Associated Loyalists"; and this company was commanded by William
Temple Franklin, son of the great Benjamin Franklin, who had been
appointed Governor of New Jersey by the British Crown. He was now
regarded with great hatred by the patriots of New Jersey, because
he was a strong Tory. This difference of opinion between William
Franklin and his father was the most noted instance of this state
of feeling which occurred in those days.
It will be interesting to look upon this great contest from a
different point of view than that from which we are accustomed to
regard it; and some extracts from the journal of a New Jersey lady
who was a decided Tory, will give us an idea of the feeling and
condition of the people who were opposed to the Revolution.
This lady was Mrs. Margaret Hill Morris, who lived in Burlington.
She was a Quaker lady, and must have been a person of considerable
wealth; for she had purchased the house on Green Bank, one of the
prettiest parts of Burlington, overlooking the river, in which
Governor Franklin had formerly resided. This was a fine house and
contained the room which afterwards became celebrated under the
name of the "Auger Hole." This had been built, for what reason is
not known, as a place of concealment. It was a small room, entirely
dark, but said to be otherwise quite comfortable, which could be
approached only through a linen closet. In order to get at it,
the linen had to be taken from the shelves, the shelves drawn out,
and a small door opened at the back of the closet, quite low down,
so that the dark room could only be entered by stooping.
In this "Auger Hole," Mrs. Morris, who was a strong Tory, but a
very good woman, had concealed a refugee who at the time was sought
for by the adherents of the patriotic side, and who probably would
have had a hard time of it if he had been caught, for he was a
person of considerable importance.
The name of the refugee was Jonathan Odell, and he was rector of
St. Mary's Church in Burlington. He was a learned man, being a
doctor as well as a clergyman, and a very strong Tory. He had been
of much service to the people of Burlington; for when the Hessians
had attacked the town, he had come forward and interceded with
their commander, and had done his work so well that the soldiers
were forbidden to pillage the town. But when the Hessians left,
the American authorities began a vigorous search for Tories; and
Parson Odell was obliged to conceal himself in good Mrs. Morris's
"Auger Hole."
Mrs. Morris was apparently a widow who lived alone with her two
boys, and, having this refugee in her house, she was naturally very
nervous about the movements of the American troops and the actions
of her neighbors of the opposite party.
She kept a journal of the things that happened^ about her in those
eventful days, and from this we will give some extracts. It must
be understood that in writing her journal, the people designated as
the "enemy" were the soldiers under Washington, and that "gondolas"
were American gunboats.
"From the 13th to the 16th we had various reports of the advancing
and retiring of the enemy; parties of armed men rudely entered the
town and diligent search was made for tories. Some of the gondola
gentry broke into and pillaged Red Smith's house on the bank. About
noon this day (16th) a very terrible account of thousands coming
into the town, and now actually to be seen on Gallows Hill: my
incautious son caught up the spyglass, and was running towards the
hill to look at them. I told him it would be liable to misconstruction."
The journal states that the boy went out with the spyglass, but
could get no good place from which he could see Gallows Hill, or
any troops upon it, and so went down to the river, and thought he
would take a view of the boats in which were the American troops.
He rested his spyglass on the low limb of a tree, and with a boyish
curiosity inspected the various boats of the little fleet, not
suspecting that any one would object to such a harmless proceeding.
But the people on the boats saw him, and did object very much; and
the consequence was, that, not long after he reached his mother's
house, a small boat from one of the vessels came to shore. A party
of men went to the front door of the house in which they had seen
the boy enter, and began loudly to knock upon it. Poor Mrs. Morris
was half frightened to death, and she made as much delay as possible
in order to compose her features and act as if she had never heard
of a refugee who wished to hide himself from his pursuers. In the
mild manner in which Quaker women are always supposed to speak,
she asked them what they wanted. They quickly told her that they
had heard that there was a refugee, to whom they applied some very
strong language, who was hiding somewhere about here, and that
they had seen him spying at them with a glass from behind a tree,
and afterwards watched him as he entered this house.
Mrs. Morris declared that they were entirely mistaken; that the
person they had seen was no one but her son, who had gone out to
look at them as any boy might do, and who was perfectly innocent
of any designs against them. The men may have been satisfied with
this explanation with regard to her son; but they asserted that
they knew that there was a refugee concealed somewhere in that
neighborhood, and they believed that he was in an empty house near
by, of which they were told she had the key. Mrs. Morris, who had
given a signal, previously agreed upon, to the man in the "Auger
Hole," to keep very quiet, wished to gain as much time as possible,
and exclaimed:
"Bless me! I hope you are not Hessians."
"Do we look like Hessians?" asked one of them rudely.
"Indeed, I don't know."
"Did you ever see a Hessian?"
"No, never in my life; but they are men, and you are men, and
may be Hessians, for anything I know. But I will go with you into
Colonel Cox's house, though indeed it was my son at the mill; he
is but a boy, and meant no harm; he wanted to see the troops."
So she took the key of the empty house referred to, and went in
ahead of the men, who searched the place thoroughly, and, after
finding no place where anybody could be, they searched one or two
of the houses adjoining; but for some reason they did not think it
worth while to go through Mrs. Morris's own house. Had they done
so, it, is not probable that the good lady could have retained her
composure, especially if they had entered the room in which was
the linen closet; for, even had they been completely deceived by
the piles of sheets and pillowcases, there is no knowing but that
the unfortunate man in the "Auger Hole" might have been inclined
to sneeze.
But although she was a brave woman and very humanely inclined, Mrs.
Morris felt she could not any longer take the risk of a refugee
in her house. And so that night, after dark, she went up to the
parson in the "Auger Hole," and made him come out; and she took him
into the town, where he was concealed by some of the Tory citizens,
who were better adapted to take care of the refugee than this lone
Quaker woman with her two inquisitive boys. It is believed that
soon after this he took refuge in New York, which was then in the
hands of the British.
Further on in the journal Mrs. Morris indulges in some moral reflections
in regard to the war in which her countrymen were engaged, and no
one of right feeling will object to her sentiments.
"Jan. 14. I hear Gen. Howe sent a request to Washington desiring
three days' cessation of arms to take care of the wounded and bury
the dead, which was refused; what a woeful tendency war has to
harden the human heart against the tender feelings of humanity. Well
may it be called a horrid art thus to change the nature of man. I
thought that even barbarous nations had a sort of religious regard
for their dead."
After this the journal contains many references to warlike scenes
on the river and warlike sounds from the country around. Numbers
of gondolas filled with soldiers went up and down the river, at
times cannon from distant points firing alarums. At other times
the roaring of great guns from a distance, showing that a battle was
going on, kept the people of Burlington in a continual excitement;
and Mrs. Morris, who was entirely cut off from her relatives and
friends, several of whom were living in Philadelphia, was naturally
very anxious and disturbed in regard to events, of which she heard
but little, and perhaps understood less.
One day she saw a number of gunboats, with flags flying and drums
beating, that were going, she was told, to attend a court-martial
at which a number of refugees, men of her party, were to be tried
by General Putnam; and it was believed that if they were found
guilty they would be executed.
After a time, Mrs. Morris found an opportunity of showing, that,
although in principle she might be a Tory, she was at heart a good,
kind Quaker lady ready to give help to suffering people, no matter
whether they belonged to the side she favored or to that which she
opposed.
Some of the people who came up the river in the gunboats--and in
many cases the soldiers brought their wives with them, probably
as cooks--were taken sick during that summer; and some of these
invalids stopped at Burlington, being unable to proceed farther.
Here, to their surprise, they found no doctors; for all the patriots
of that profession had gone to the army, and the Tory physician had
departed to the British lines. But, as is well known, the women in
the early days of New Jersey were often obliged to be physicians;
and among the good housewives of Burlington, who knew all about
herb teas, homemade plasters, and potions, Mrs. Morris held a high
position. The sick Continentals were told that she was just as good
as a doctor, and, besides, was a very kind woman, always ready to
help the sick and suffering.
So some of the sick soldiers came to her; and from what Mrs.
Morris wrote, one or two of them must have been the same men who
had previously come to her house and threatened the life of her
boy, who had been looking at them with a spyglass. But now they very
meekly and humbly asked her to come and attend their poor comrades
who were unable to move. At first Mrs. Morris thought this was
some sort of a trick, and that they wanted to get her on board of
one of the gunboats, and carry her away. But when she found that
the sick people were in a house in the town, she consented to go
and do what she could. So she took her bottles with her, and her
boxes and her herbs, and visited the sick people, several of whom
she found were women.
They were all afflicted with some sort of a fever, probably of
a malarial kind, contracted from living day and night on board of
boats without proper protection; and, knowing just what to do with
such cases, she, to use her own expression, "treated them according
to art," and it was not long before they all recovered.
What happened in consequence of this hospital work for those whom
she considered her enemies, is thus related by Mrs. Morris:
"I thought I had received all my pay when they thankfully acknowledged
all my kindness, but lo! in a short time afterwards, a very rough,
ill-looking man came to the door and asked for me. When I went
to him, he drew me aside and asked me if I had any friends in
Philadelphia. The question alarmed me, supposing that there was
some mischief meditated against that poor city; however, I calmly
said, 'I have an ancient father-in-law, some sisters, and other
near friends there.' 'Well,' said the man, 'do you wish to hear
from them, or send anything by way of refreshment to them? If you
do, I will take charge of it and bring you back anything you may
send for.' I was very much surprised, to be sure, and thought he
only wanted to get provisions to take to the gondolas, when he told
me his wife was one I had given medicine to, and this was the only
thing he could do to pay me for my kindness. My heart leaped for
joy, and I set about preparing something for my dear absent friends.
A quarter of beef, some veal, fowls, and flour, were soon put up,
and about midnight the man came and took them away in his boat."
Mrs. Morris was not mistaken in trusting to the good intentions
of this grateful Continental soldier, for, as she says, two nights
later there came a loud knocking at the door: