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Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
ELSIE YACHTING WITH THE RAYMONDS
* * * * * *
A LIST OF THE ELSIE BOOKS.
_Arranged in the order of their publication._
ELSIE DINSMORE.
ELSIE'S HOLIDAYS AT ROSELANDS.
ELSIE'S GIRLHOOD.
ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD.
ELSIE'S MOTHERHOOD.
ELSIE'S CHILDREN.
ELSIE'S WIDOWHOOD.
GRANDMOTHER ELSIE.
ELSIE'S NEW RELATIONS.
ELSIE AT NANTUCKET.
THE TWO ELSIES.
ELSIE'S KITH AND KIN.
ELSIE'S FRIENDS AT WOODBURN.
CHRISTMAS WITH GRANDMA ELSIE.
ELSIE AND THE RAYMONDS.
ELSIE YACHTING WITH THE RAYMONDS.
ELSIE'S VACATION.
ELSIE AT VIAMEDE.
ELSIE AT ION.
* * * * * *
[Illustration (frontispiece)]
ELSIE YACHTING WITH THE RAYMONDS
by
MARTHA FINLEY
Author of
"Elsie Dinsmore," "Elsie's Womanhood," "Elsie's Kith and
Kin," "Elsie and the Raymonds," "The Mildred
Books," "Wanted--a Pedigree," etc.
New York
Dodd, Mead, And Company
Publishers
Copyright, 1890
By Dodd, Mead, and Co.
All rights reserved.
PREFATORY NOTE.
The Author, having received many letters from young and interested
readers, has decided to acknowledge them in this way, because feeble
health and much work for the publishers make it impossible to write a
separate reply to each gratifying epistle.
She also desires to freely acknowledge indebtedness for much
information regarding Revolutionary times and incidents, to Bancroft
and Lossing; and for the routine at West Point, to an article in
Harper's Magazine for July, 1887, entitled "Cadet Life at West Point,"
by Charles King, U. S. A.
M. F.
CHAPTER I.
The train, which for some hours had been running very fast and too
noisily to admit of much conversation, suddenly slackened its speed,
and Lulu turned upon her father a bright, eager look, as though some
request were trembling on her tongue.
"Well, daughter, what is it?" he asked, with an indulgent smile, before
she had time to utter a word.
"Oh, Papa!" she began in a quick, excited way, and quite as if she
expected her request would be granted, "I know we're going through New
York State, and I've just been thinking how much I would like to see
Saratoga,--especially the battle-field where the Americans gained that
splendid victory over the British in the Revolutionary War."
"Ah! and would Max like it, too?" the Captain asked, with a smiling
glance at his son, who, sitting directly in front of them, had turned
to listen to their talk just as Lulu began her reply to their father's
query.
"Yes, sir; yes, indeed!" Max answered eagerly, his face growing very
bright. "And you, Papa, would you enjoy it, too?"
"I think I would," said the Captain, "though it would not be for the
first time; but showing the places of interest to two such ardent
young patriots will more than compensate for that.--And there have
been changes since I was there last," he continued, musingly. "Mount
McGregor, for instance, has become a spot of historic interest. We will
visit it."
"Oh, yes! where dear General Grant died," said Lulu. "I would like to
go there."
"So you shall," returned her father. "This is Friday; we shall reach
Saratoga Saturday night, should no accident detain us, spend Sunday
there resting, according to the commandment, then Monday and Tuesday in
sight-seeing."
"How nice, Papa," Lulu said with satisfaction. "I only wish Mamma Vi
and Gracie could be there with us."
"It would double our pleasure," he replied. "I think we must go again
some time, when we can have them along."
"Oh, I am glad to hear you say that, Papa! for I am quite sure I shall
enjoy going twice to so interesting a place," said Lulu.
"I, too," said Max. "I don't know of anything that would please me
better."
"I am glad to hear it, and hope there will be no disappointment to
either of you," their father said.
But the train was speeding on again, too fast and too noisily for
comfortable conversation, and they relapsed into silence, the Captain
returning to his newspaper, Max to a book which he seemed to find very
interesting, while his sister amused herself with her own thoughts.
Lulu was feeling very happy; she had been having so pleasant a summer
out in the West with Papa and Maxie, and was enjoying the homeward
journey,--or rather the trip to the sea-shore, where the rest of
the family were, and where they all expected to remain till the end
of the season,--the prospect of seeing Saratoga and its historical
surroundings, and other places of interest,--a view of which could be
had from the boat as they passed down the Hudson; for she and Max had
both expressed a preference for that mode of travel, and their father
had kindly consented to let them have their wish. She thought herself a
very fortunate little girl, and wished with all her heart that Gracie
could be there with them and share in all their pleasures.
Dear Gracie! they had never been separated for so long a time before,
and Lulu was in such haste for the meeting now that she could almost
be willing to resign the pleasure of a visit to Saratoga that they
might be together the sooner. But no, oh, no, it would never do to miss
a visit there! It would defer their meeting only a day or two, and she
should have all the more to tell; not to Gracie only, but to Evelyn
Leland and Rosie Travilla. Ah, how enjoyable that would be! Oh, how
full of pleasure life was now that Papa was with them all the time, and
they had such a sweet home of their very own!
With that thought she turned toward him, giving him a look of ardent
affection.
He was still reading, but glanced from his paper to her just in time to
catch her loving look.
"My darling!" he said, bending down to speak close to her ear, and
accompanying the words with a smile full of fatherly affection. "I
fear you must be growing very weary with this long journey," he added,
putting an arm about her and drawing her closer to him.
"Oh, no, not so very, Papa!" she answered brightly; "but I'll be ever
so glad when we get to Saratoga. Don't you think it will be quite a
rest to be out of the cars for a day or two?"
"Yes; and I trust you will find them less wearisome after your three
days at Saratoga."
"What time shall we reach there, Papa?" asked Max.
"Not long before your bed-time, I understand," replied the Captain.
"Then we cannot see anything before Monday?"
"You will see something of the town in walking to church day after
to-morrow."
"And we can start out bright and early on Monday to visit places of
interest," added Lulu; "can't we, Papa?"
"Yes, if you will be careful to be ready in good season. We want to see
all we can in the two days of our stay."
"And I don't believe we'll find Lu a hindrance, as some girls would
be," said Max. "She's always prompt when anything is to be done."
"I think that is quite true, Max," their father remarked, looking from
one to the other with a smile that was full of paternal love and pride;
"and of you as well as of your sister."
"If we are, Papa, it is because you have trained us to punctuality and
promptness," returned the lad, regarding his father with eyes full of
admiring filial affection.
"And because you have heeded the lessons I have given you," added the
Captain. "My dear children, when I see that you are doing so, it gives
me a glad and thankful heart."
They reached Saratoga the next evening more than an hour earlier than
they had expected; and as the moon was nearly full, they were, much
to the delight of Max and Lulu, able to wander about the town for an
hour or more after tea, enjoying the sight of the beautiful grounds
and residences, and the crowds of people walking and driving along the
streets, or sitting in the porches. They visited Congress Park also,
drank from its springs, strolled through its porches out into the
grounds, wandered along the walks, and at length entered the pavilion.
Here they sat and rested for awhile; then the Captain, consulting his
watch, said to his children, "It is nine o'clock, my dears; time that
tired travellers were seeking their nests."
He rose as he spoke, and taking Lulu's hand, led the way, Max close in
the rear.
"Yes, Papa, I'm tired enough to be very willing to go to bed," said
Lulu; "but I hope we can come here again on Monday."
"I think it altogether likely we shall be able to do so," he replied.
"If we are up early enough we might run down here for a drink of the
water before breakfast on Monday," said Max. "Can't we, Papa?"
"Yes, all three of us," replied the Captain. "Let us see who will be
ready first."
They passed a quiet, restful Sabbath, very much as it would have been
spent at home; then, on Monday morning, all three were up and dressed
in season for a visit to some of the nearer springs before breakfast.
They went to the Park together, took their drinks, returned after but a
few minutes spent in the garden, breakfasted, and shortly after leaving
the table were in a carriage on their way to Schuylerville.
They visited the battle-ground first, then the place of surrender, with
its interesting monument.
"We will look at the outside first," the Captain said, as they drew
near it. "It is called the finest of its kind, and stands upon the
crowning height of Burgoyne's intrenched camp."
"I wonder how high it is," Max said inquiringly, as they stood at some
distance from the base, he with his head thrown back, his eyes fixed
upon the top of the shaft.
"It is said to be more than four hundred and fifty feet above the level
of the river," replied his father.
"Oh, I wonder if we couldn't see the battle-field from the top!"
exclaimed Lulu, excitedly. "I suppose they'll let us climb up there,
won't they, Papa?"
"Yes, for a consideration," returned the Captain, smiling at her eager
look; "but first let us finish our survey of the outside."
"What kind of stone is this, sir?" asked Max, pointing to the base.
"Light granite," replied his father. "And the shaft is of dark granite,
rough hewn, as you will notice."
"And there are gables," remarked Lulu,--"great high ones."
"Yes; nearly forty feet high, and resting at their bases upon granite
eagles with folded wings. Observe, too, the polished granite columns,
with carved capitals, which all the cornices of doors and windows rest
upon."
"And the niches over the doors," said Max, still gazing upward as they
walked slowly around the shaft, "one empty I see, each of the others
with a statue in it. Oh, they are the generals who commanded our troops
in the battle!"
"Yes," said his father, "Generals Schuyler, Morgan, and Gates,--who
by the way was hardly worthy of the honour, as he gave evidence of
cowardice, remaining two miles away from the field of battle, all ready
for a possible retreat, while Burgoyne was in the thickest of the
fight. The fourth and empty one, do you not see, has the name of Arnold
carved underneath it."
"Oh, yes, Arnold the traitor!" exclaimed Max. "How _could_ he turn
against his country? But, Papa, he did do good service in this battle
and some of the earlier ones, and it's such a pity he turned traitor!"
"Yes, a very great pity!" assented the Captain, heaving an involuntary
sigh. "While detesting his treachery, I have always felt that he has
not received deserved credit for his great services in the earlier part
of the war,--the expedition to Canada, and besides smaller engagements,
the terrible battle of Valcour Island, Lake Champlain, in which he was
defeated only by the great superiority of the enemy in numbers of both
men and vessels. Though beaten, he brought away to Ticonderoga his
remaining vessels and surviving troops. His obstinate resistance so
discouraged the British general, Carleton, that he retired to Montreal
for the winter, which made it possible for the Northern army to spare
three thousand troops to help Washington in striking his great blows at
Princeton and Trenton."
"And after all that, as I remember reading," said Max, "Congress
treated Arnold shamefully, promoting other officers over his head who
neither stood so high in rank nor had done half the service he had. I'm
sure his anger at the injustice was very natural; yet he still fought
bravely for his country,--didn't he, Papa?"
"Yes; and all that occurred some months before this battle of Saratoga,
in which he did such service. Ah, if his career had ended there
and then, what a patriot he would now be considered! It is almost
certain that if he had been properly reinforced by Gates, he would
have inflicted a crushing defeat upon Burgoyne at, or shortly after,
the battle of Freeman's farm. But Gates was very jealous of Arnold,
disliking him as a warm friend of General Schuyler, and the two had a
fierce quarrel between that battle and the one of Saratoga, occasioned
by Gates, prompted by his jealousy, taking some of Arnold's best troops
from his command. Arnold then asked and received permission to return
to Philadelphia; but the other officers, perceiving that another and
decisive battle was about to be fought, persuaded Arnold to remain
and share in it, as they had no confidence in Gates, who was, without
doubt, a coward. He showed himself such by remaining in his tent while
the battle was going on, though Burgoyne was, as I have said, in the
thick of it. It was a great victory that crowned our arms on the 7th of
October, 1777, and was due more to Arnold's efforts than to those of
any other man, though Morgan also did a great deal to win it."
"Wasn't Arnold wounded in this battle, Papa?" asked Max.
"Yes, severely, in the leg which had been hurt at Quebec. It was just
at the close of the battle. He was carried on a litter to Albany,
where he remained, disabled, till the next spring. One must ever
detest treason and a traitor; yet I think it quite possible--even
probable--that if Arnold had always received fair and just treatment,
he would never have attempted to betray his country as he afterward
did. Now we will go inside, and see what we can find of interest there."
The Captain led the way as he spoke.
They lingered awhile in the lower room examining with great interest
the tablets and historical pictures, sculptured in bronze, _alto
rilievo_, which adorned its walls.
"Oh, Papa, see!" cried Lulu; "here is Mrs. Schuyler setting fire to a
field of wheat to keep the British from getting it, I suppose."
"Yes," her father said; "these are Revolutionary scenes."
"Here is George III.," said Max, "consulting with his ministers how he
shall subdue the Americans. Ha, ha! they did their best, but couldn't
succeed. My countrymen of that day would be free."
"As Americans always will, I hope and believe," said Lulu. "I feel sure
your countrywomen will anyhow."
At that her father, giving her a smile of mingled pleasure and
amusement, said, "Now we will go up to the top of the shaft, and take a
bird's-eye view of the surrounding country."
They climbed the winding stairway to its top, and from thence had a
view of not only the battle-field, but of other historic spots also
lying in all directions.
Max and Lulu were deeply interested, and had many questions to ask,
which their father answered with unfailing patience.
But, indeed, ardent patriot that he was, he keenly enjoyed making his
children fully acquainted with the history of their country, and there
was much connected with the surrounding scenes which it was a pleasure
to relate, or remind them of, as having happened there.
From the scenes of the fight and the surrender they drove on to
the Marshall place, the Captain giving the order as they reseated
themselves in the carriage.
"The Marshall place, Papa? What about it?" asked Max and Lulu in a
breath.
"It is a house famous for its connection with the fighting in the
neighbourhood of Saratoga," replied the Captain. "It was there the
Baroness Riedesel took refuge with her children on the 10th of October,
1777, about two o'clock in the afternoon, going there with her three
little girls, trying to get as far from the scene of conflict as she
well could."
"Oh, yes, sir!" said Max. "I remember, now, that there was a Baron
Riedesel in the British army,--a Hessian officer, in command of four
thousand men; wasn't he, Papa?"
"Yes; and his wife seems to have been a lovely woman. She nursed poor
General Frazer in his dying agonies. You may remember that he was
killed by one of Morgan's men in the battle of Bemis Heights, or
Saratoga, fought on the 7th,--or rather, I should say, he was mortally
wounded and carried to the Taylor House, where the Baroness Riedesel
had prepared a dinner for the officers, which was standing partly
served upon the table. He lay there in great agony until the next
morning, and then died."
"Oh, yes, Papa, I remember about him!" said Lulu; "and that he was
buried the same evening in the Great Redoubt, which was a part of the
British intrenchments on the hills near the river."
"Yes, the strongest part," said Max. "I remember reading of it, and
that the Americans opened fire on the procession from the other side of
the river, not understanding what it was; so that while the chaplain
was reading the service at the grave, hostile shots were ploughing up
the ground at his feet, and covering the party with dust."
"Oh, Papa, won't you take us to see his grave?" asked Lulu.
"Yes, daughter, if we have time."
"Here we are, sir. This is the Marshall place," announced the driver,
reining in his horses in front of a modest-looking farm-house; "and
here comes a lad that'll show you round, and tell you the whole story
of what happened in and about here in the time of the Revolution."
The Captain quickly alighted, helped Lulu out, and Max sprang after
them.
The lad had already opened the gate, and lifted his hat with a bow and
smile. "Good-morning!" he said.
Captain Raymond returned the salutation, adding, "I would like very
much to show my children those parts of your house here connected with
Revolutionary memories, if--"
"Oh, yes, sir; yes!" returned the boy, pleasantly. "I'll take you in
and about; it's quite the thing for visitors to Saratoga to come over
here on that errand."
He led the way into the house as he spoke, the Captain, Max, and Lulu
following.
They passed through a hall, and on into the parlour, without meeting
any one.
"This," said the lad, "is the northeast room, where Surgeon Jones was
killed by a cannon-ball; perhaps you may remember about it, sir. The
doctors were at work on him, cutting off a wounded leg, when a ball
came in at that northeast corner and took off his other leg in its way
diagonally across the room. They gave up trying to save him, then, and
left him to die in yon corner," pointing to it as he spoke.
"Poor fellow!" sighed Lulu. "I can't help feeling sorry for him, though
he was an enemy to my country."
"No, Miss, it was a pity, and does make one feel sorry; for I suppose
he really had no choice but to obey the orders of his king," returned
the lad. "Well, the ball passed on, broke through the plank partition
of the hall, and buried itself in the ground outside. They say eleven
cannon-balls passed through the house in just a little while. For my
part, I'd rather have been in a battle than keeping quiet here to be
shot at."
"I certainly would," said the Captain.
"I, too," said Max. "I should say there was very little fun in standing
such a fire with no chance to return it."
"Yes; and our people would never have fired on them if they had known
they were women, children, and wounded men; but you see they--the
Americans--saw people gathering here, and thought the British were
making the place their headquarters. So they trained their artillery on
it, and opened such a fire as presently sent everybody to the cellar.
Will you walk down and look at that, sir?" addressing the Captain.
"If it is convenient," he returned, following with Max and Lulu as
their young guide led the way.
"Quite, sir," he answered; then, as they entered the cellar, "There
have been some changes in the hundred years and more that have passed
since that terrible time," he said. "You see there is but one partition
wall now; there were two then, but one has been torn down, and the
floor cemented. Otherwise the cellars are just as they were at the time
of the fight; only a good deal cleaner, I suspect," he added, with
a smile, "for packed as they were with women, children, and wounded
officers and soldiers, there must have been a good deal of filth about,
as well as bad air."
"They certainly are beautifully clean, light, and sweet now, whatever
they may have been on that October day of 1777," the Captain said,
glancing admiringly at the rows of shining milk-pans showing a tempting
display of thick yellow cream, and the great fruit-bins standing ready
for the coming harvest.
"Yes, sir; to me it seems a rather inviting-looking place at present,"
returned the lad, glancing from side to side with a smile of
satisfaction; "but I've sometimes pictured it to myself as it must have
looked then,--crowded, you know, with frightened women and children,
and wounded officers being constantly brought in for nursing, in
agonies of pain, groaning, and perhaps screaming, begging for water,
which could be got only from the river, a soldier's wife bringing a
small quantity at a time."
"Yes, a woman could do that, of course," said Lulu; "for our soldiers
would never fire on a woman,--certainly not for doing such a thing as
that."
"No, of course not," exclaimed Max, in a scornful tone. "American men
fire on a woman doing such a thing as that? I should say not!"
"No, indeed, I should hope not!" returned their young conductor,
leading the way from the cellar to the upper hall, and out into the
grounds. "Yonder," he said, pointing with his finger, "away to the
southwest, Burgoyne's troops were stationed; the German auxiliaries,
too, were resting from their fight, near Bemis Heights. Away to the
west there, Morgan's famous riflemen were taking up their position
along Burgoyne's front and flank, while Colonel Fellows was over
yonder," turning to the east and again pointing with his finger,
"bringing his batteries to bear upon the British. Just as the Baroness
Riedesel in her calash with her three little girls stopped before the
house, some American sharpshooters across the river levelled their
muskets, and she had barely time to push her children to the bottom of
the wagon and throw herself down beside them, before the bullets came
whistling overhead. Neither she nor the little folks were hurt, but a
soldier belonging to their party was badly wounded. The Baroness and
her children spent the night there in the cellar. So did other ladies
from the British army who followed her to this retreat that afternoon.
They were in one of its three divisions, the wounded officers in
another, and the common soldiers occupied the third."
"It must have been a dreadful night to the poor Baroness and those
little girls," remarked Lulu, who was listening with keenest interest.
"Yes, indeed," responded the lad; "the cries and groans of the wounded,
the darkness, dampness, and filth and stench of the wounds, all taken
together, must have made an awful night for them all. I wonder, for my
part, that the women and children weren't left at home in their own
countries."
"That's where they ought to have been, I think," said Lulu. "Was it
that night Surgeon Jones was killed?"
"No, Miss, the next day, when the Americans began firing again harder
than ever."
"Where were they firing from then?" Lulu asked.
"The other side of the river, Miss; probably from some rising ground a
little north of Batten Kil."
"Well, sir, what more have you to show us?" asked the Captain,
pleasantly.
"A plank cut and shattered at one end, probably by the ball that killed
the Surgeon. This way, if you please; here it is. And here is a rafter
which you see has been partly cut in two by a shell. It was taken out
of the frame of the house while they were repairing in 1868. Here are
some other bits of shot and shell that have been ploughed up on the
farm at different times. Ah! there are some things at the house I
should have shown you."
"We will not mind going back so short a distance," said the Captain,
"and would be glad to see everything you have to show us."
"Yes, sir; and I think you will say these things are worth looking at."
He led them back into the house and exhibited, first, a gold coin with
the figure and inscription of George III. on one side, the British arms
and an inscription with the date 1776 on the other, then a curious
old musket, with bayonet and flint lock, which was carried in the
Revolutionary War by an ancestor of the family now residing there.