“What heroes from the woodland sprung,
When, through the fresh-awakened land,
The thrilling cry of freedom rung.
And to the work of warfare strung
The yeoman's iron hand!”
Leaving Woodburn to the hot and eager pursuit that patriotism and
private animosity had prompted him to undertake, we will now precede him
a few miles on the road, for the purpose of introducing and accompanying
another old acquaintance, who was also destined to become an actor in
the wild and stirring adventures of the night.
Near the southern confines of Manchester, about nine o'clock, the same
evening, a youth of the probable age of twenty, of a sandy complexion,
and of a rather slight, but evidently tough, wiry frame, with a short
rifle on his shoulder, and powder-horn and ball-pouch slung at his back,
was making his solitary way on foot along the main road towards the town
just mentioned. As he now reached the Batenkill, where the stream, here
first beginning to find a more peaceful flow, after its headlong descent
from the Green Mountains, intersected the road, he suddenly paused
and began to muse, with the air of one who has been struck by some new
thought tending to divert him from his settled purposes; and, slowly
passing on to the bridge, which, after the rude construction of the
times, had been thrown across the river at this place, he took a seat on
one of the side-timbers, or binders, as they were usually termed, and,
in accordance with an old and inveterate habit, generated probably by
the peculiar circumstances of his early life, began to commune with
himself aloud.
“I wonder what this new business is they want you should do Bart?
Harry said it was a secret matter when he handed over the paper,” he
continued, pulling out and abstractedly unrolling a small wad of white
paper, “a kinder private commission, or something, which he would
explain about, after I had gone and got his letter to the girl, as he
met me on my way back. But why don't he meet me fore this time? It's
pesky strange he should hang back in a woman affair so! Why, he would
go--like enough has gone--but then how could he miss me? O Lord, Bart,
what a stupid pup! He passed you when you was napping it in the bushes
at that cool spring! I'll bet my old hat on't! Well, we shan't see much
more of him to-night, likely, seeing it is love he's doing, and such a
moon as this holds the candle; and we may as well be trying to find out
this business without him. So let's be digging out what the paper says.
Harry and the rest of 'em don't know I can read writing; but I can,
when driv to it; though I think we won't let 'em know that, Bart; for no
knowing what cunning things we may find out if they don't mistrust it.
Now let's look. Why, I can see as plain as day!' he added, holding up
the writing to the bright moonlight, and beginning to spell out the
well-known bold and distinct characters of the secretary of the council,
as follows:--
“TO BARTHOLOMEW BURT:--
“You are hereby appointed by the Council of Safety to go through this
and the neighboring towns, bordering on the British line of march; to
spy out the resorts of the tories; to mark and identify all inimical
persons; to gain all the information that can be obtained respecting the
movements of the enemy at large; and make report, from time to time, to
this council or some field officer of our line.
“IRA ALLEN, _Secretary_.” [Footnote: Those who may doubt the probability
that such a commission would be issued by this body, would do well to
consult that part of the journal of their proceedings, at this period,
which has been preserved and published, in which will be found several
similar ones, to serve as specimens of the many contained in the part
that was lost, and to show how searching were the operations of these
vigilant guardians of the cause of liberty in Vermont, and how various
the instruments they made use of to effect their objects.]
“Good! grand!” exclaimed the excited soliloquist, starting up and
snapping his fingers in high glee. “This will be a great thing for you,
Bart. Yes, and then how gentlemanly and respectful-like it sounds to be
called Bartholomew, in that way! Bart, we'll go it for them; and have
a touch of the trade this very night, if you please. But where shall we
begin? Let's see, now. Why, there's old mother Rose's haunt up the great
road here, where, I do think, she must hatch out tories, same as a hen
does chickens, they are so thick about there. Then there's Josh Rose
courting that up and a coming sort of girl you saw at Howard's t'other
day, when you called with Harry for a drink of water. Now wouldn't the
fellow be apt to let out secrets there that we could get hold of,
and put us on some good scent? Ah! that's it; so now up the river for
Howard's, as a beginning, hit or miss, Bart.”
While this singular genius is proceeding on his proposed destination,
in the hope of accomplishing something to show himself worthy of the
curious trust that had been so unexpectedly reposed in him, we will
occupy the breathing spot, thus afforded in our narrative, in apprising
the reader, more definitely than we have yet done, of the main incidents
that had marked the checkered fortunes of the two adventurers whom we
have now again brought upon the scene of action, since we left them.
When Woodburn and Bart left the state, under the circumstances described
in the closing chapters of our first volume, they proceeded directly to
Cambridge, where the revolutionary army was then gathering for the siege
of Boston, enlisted, for two years, into the continental service; and
actively participated in all the most important movements of the army
in the campaign that immediately succeeded. They were at Bunker Hill,
on that memorable day of fire and blood, so glorious for the yeoman
patriots of New England, and so fearful for her foes,--
“When first, as at Thermopylae,
The battle shout of freemen rose;
Firm as their mountains, and as free,
They nobly braved encountering foes.”
And in the following autumn, they, in the same company, in which
Woodburn, for bravery and good conduct, had been made a subaltern
officer, marched with that division of the army which Arnold, with
almost unequalled energy and fortitude, and amidst privation and
suffering untold, led through the snow-clad wilderness of morass and
mountain, to the distant Quebec. And there, in the onset, in which
the high-souled Montgomery fell, they were together cut off from their
company and made prisoners; when, after having, for nearly a year and
a half, endured the sufferings of a British prison-ship, they together
escaped at Halifax, wandered, half naked and starving, through the
seemingly interminable forests of Brunswick and Maine, to the American
settlemens, and finally reached home; not there, however, long to
repose, but soon to repair, with yet unbroken spirit, to the new scene
of action, at which their countrymen were beginning to rally to meet the
formidable invasion of the hitherto victorious Burgoyne.
We will now resume the thread of our narrative. A walk of twenty or
thirty minutes brought Bart to the log tenement of Howard, who was a
soldier in the continental service, now absent on duty, having left his
house and business in charge of his wife a woman no less noted, in her
neighborhood, for energy in conducting her domestic affairs, than for
the patriotic spirit with which she espoused the American cause. She and
her daughter, a rustic beauty of eighteen, of keen perceptions, and
even rare good sense, when her frolicsome disposition would allow her to
exercise it, were now the only permanent inmates of this secluded cabin,
which consisted of but two rooms, with a front entrance leading through
an entry into either of them, and another door at the end of the house
opening into the one usually occupied by the family as both sitting-room
and kitchen.
“A light in both rooms, by the pipers!” exclaimed Bart, as, after having
cautiously approached, he paused to reconnoitre the house. “The fellow
is there at his traps, as sure as a gun! Now what's to be done, Bart?
'Twon't do to go in and show yourself, and have that torified scamp
carry away word that you are mousing round the country nights, will
it? No, but I'll tell you what, if it want for the name of sneaking and
evesdropping, we would creep round back of the room where they be, and
hark through the cracks; like enough get a peep, and so learn something.
But such things they expected of you, didn't they, Bart? Must be so, I
think. Then suppose we throw the name and blame of it on the council,
and try it, mister?”
Taking a wide sweep round the house, Bart soon approached that part of
it, on the back side, in which he rightly conjectured the young people
were sitting; and gliding up to the wall with steps as noiseless as
those of a mousing fox, he discovered a crevice between the logs, from
which the moss calking had fallen out so as to permit a small pencil of
light to escape. Guided by this, he quickly gained, after applying
his eye to the aperture, a distinct view of the couple within, and
was enabled, at the same time, to catch every word of their variously
modulated conversation. They were seated at different sides of a
light-stand, on which a candle was burning, she assiduously engaged,
to all appearance, with her needle on some light sewing work, and he
diligently, with his penknife, on a pine chip, which he was essaying to
shape into a human profile, that of his mistress, it might be surmised
from the sly glances with which he seemed occasionally to scan her
features. Though now dressed in his smartest fustian, he yet appeared
awkward and ill at ease; while the timid and hesitating air, with
which he seemed to regard his fair companion, indicated much conscious
uncertainty respecting the place he might hold in her affections. She,
on the contrary, seemed quite self-possessed, and wore the air of one
not particularly solicitous about pleasing, which gave her as much
advantage over him in her manner as she obviously possessed in her
person; for, besides a good form and a wholesome roseate bloom, she had
one of those polyglot countenances which seem almost to supersede
the necessity of speaking--a trait she very prettily exhibited
while listening to the forced hints and innuendoes of her lover's
conversation, as she occasionally lifted her head, now with a blush, now
with a smile, and now with a frown, that caused his eyes to drop to the
floor as quick as those of a rebuked schoolboy. Thus far, she had not
opened her lips; but now, as her suitor, turning in his chair, brought
a hitherto shaded arm into view, and displayed upon his sleeve a common
brass pin, (usually denominated in those days the Canada pin, as this
article, then almost excluded from the toilet by the war, rarely found
its way into this section except through the intercourse of the tories
with that province,) her attention was suddenly excited; and turning a
sharp and searching look upon him, she said,--
“Where have you been lately, Josh?”
“Why?” he replied, evidently surprised at the question and manner of the
girl.
“That, sir,” she responded, significantly pointing to the pin. “Such
articles don't get here but in one way, in these hard times, which
compel us to put up with thorns for pins, and half tories for beaux,”
she added, with a meaning and roguish look.
“Won't you accept it, Vine?” he said, obviously disconcerted but
pretending not to understand her allusions.
“Not unless you tell me honestly how you got it, sir,” she replied,
decisively.
“O, picked it up somewhere; don't remember now,” he evasively answered.
“That, now, is a thumper, I know,” she rejoined, with a pretty toss of
the head. “But you don't put me off so. The fact is Josh, I suspect you
have been among the tories to-day. Now be honest, and tell me, sir.”
And for the next ten minutes the determined girl plied her reluctant and
perplexed companion, by all the means which her ingenuity could invent,
to accomplish her object; teasing, coaxing and threatening by turns,
till, being unable to resist any longer, he replied,--
“Well, I will tell you; and it can't do any hurt either, for they will
all be out of reach before morning.”
“Who will be out of reach?” eagerly demanded the other.
“The men that my brother Samuel enlisted. You knew he had got a
captain's commission in General Burgoyne's army, I 'spose.”
“We heard so; but has Captain Samuel Rose been in town to-day?”
“Yes; for I may as well tell the whole, now I've begun. The captain has
been all day at the house of brother Asa Rose, who lives out of the way,
there, in the woods, over beyond the great road, you know. Well, he had
agreed to meet all he had enlisted in this section there at sunset, and
lead them off to the British camp, after people were abed. I was there
just before dark, and saw them; sixteen in all, besides the captain, all
armed and equipped, and he in full uniform; and he looks complete in it,
too, I tell you.”
“But what was you amoung them there for?”
“O, I wanted to see Sam, and bid him good-by, you know, as he was going
off, never to come back, for aught I knew; that was all, upon honor,
now.”
“Perhaps it was; but one thing I wish you to understand, Josh Rose,
and that is, if you take up for that side of the question, openly or
secretly, your visits here----”
“O, I shan't; no notion on't, not the least in the world; so don't
worry; though candidly, Vine, I don't believe it's much use for your
folks to think of standing out any longer. Why, hundreds are joining
the British every day, and what will be left, in a short time, can do
nothing towards stopping such an army as Burgoyne's.”
“What are left will be apt to try it, I think, sir.”
The subject was now dropped; and the girl, after a thoughtful pause,
commenced on a theme more agreeable to her suitor, and for a short time,
was unusually sociable and gracious; when she rose, and, carelessly
remarking she must be excused a moment, left the room, and passed out
through the front door, with noise enough in opening and closing it to
leave the other in no doubt as to the direction of her exit.
“Well, Bart, what do you think of that?” whispered our listener to
himself, as now, on the departure of the girl from the room, he withdrew
from his peeping-hole. “Now, I pretend to say, I wouldn't take a gold
guinea for what we have got through that crack, nor two either, if our
legs will carry us to the village and rally help quick enough to have
that batch of tories nabbed before they are off. But let's jest edge
along against the mother's room, and see if there is any discovery to be
made there, before we start.”
Being equally fortunate in finding an opening into the room to which his
attention was now directed, Bart cautiously peered in; when his eye soon
fell on the solitary occupant, a fine, resolute-looking matron, quietly
employed in knitting by the light of a torch stuck in one of the stone
jambs of the broad fireplace. He, however, had scarcely time to note
these circumstances before the door was softly opened, and the girl who
had just left the other room entered on tiptoe, and whispered in her
mother's ear something that seemed to produce an instant effect on the
hitherto sedate and listless countenance of the latter; for, starting
to her feet, she stood gazing at the other with a flashing eye, and
listening with the keenest interest, as some further particulars were
added to the communication.
“Are you sure he was not fooling you?” said the mother.
“Very sure,” replied the daughter, significantly holding up the Canada
pin.
“Well, Vine,” rejoined the former, with the air of one whose resolution
is taken, “you whip back to your post the same way you came; and see
that you keep him here till--say about midnight,” she added, exchanging
a meaning glance with the daughter, whose hand was already on the latch
to depart.
No sooner had the intermingling tones of conversation in the other room
apprised the woman that her daughter had there joined the unsuspecting
suitor, than, hastily seizing bonnet and shawl, she noiselessly left
the house and glided out into the road. After hesitating a moment here,
respecting the course she should take, apparently, she made up to the
log-fence enclosing an adjoining field, threw herself over it with the
lightness of a boy, and, striking off directly west, almost flew over
the ground till she reached the boundaries of their little opening; when
she fearlessly plunged into the dark and pathless recesses of the
wood lying between her and the main road, to which she was evidently
directing her course.
“There! just as I told you,” muttered Bart, who, inwardly vexed that the
secret he had been hugging, as exclusively his own should be shared by
another, for fear measures might be taken to deprive him of the sole
honor and profit he had promised himself of communicating it, had been
jealously noting what had occurred. “Just as I told, Bart; the old woman
has got your story, and there she goes, streaming off with it, like the
house afire, for the great road, through woods, swamp, and all! Well,
it's too late to try to stop her now, to save her the trouble of going,
cause you'd frighten her, likely; besides, she'd find out you'd been
listening. But we'll follow and keep track of her; may be she'll get
lost, and we can cut by her; or may be we can seem to come kinder
accidentally on her, and contrive to get employed to do her errand, and
so let her go back.”
With this resolution, he immediately gave chase; and by occasionally
pausing, after entering the forest, to listen to the rustling of her
garments as the intrepid woman rushed through the tangled thickets on
her way, or the cracking of dry twigs under her rapid tread, he was
enabled to trace her course and keep within hearing distance, though not
without exertions which drew forth many an exclamation of surprise at
the speed with which, at such a time and place, she got over the ground.
At length, they both reached the opening on the other side of the forest
opposite to a good-sized house on the main road.
“I vags,” exclaimed Bart, pausing and wiping the perspiration from
his face with his sleeve, as he emerged from the wood, “if the perlite
Frenchman, they tell of, who thought women had no legs, had followed
this one through a mile-swamp at the rate she has gone, he would think
a little different about the matter, I guess. But never mind the tramp,
Bart, but still keep your eye on her. There she goes smack into
that house over yonder, which is--let's see, now--Why, that is Major
Ormsbee's, who, I remember now, Harry told me, was her brother. Well,
Bart, seeing you are fairly beat in this business, let's work along over
into the road against the house, and see what comes of it.”
Scarcely had Bart gained his proposed situation in a nook of the fence,
before the major, followed by his son, came bustling out into the yard.
“Jock!” he said, hastily turning to his son, “you run to the barn, and
saddle and bring out my horse, while I slip over to Captain Barney's.
But who have we here?” he added, espying and approaching Bart. “Who are
you, friend?”
“Well, you may call me any thing but a tory and I won't complain,
major.”
“That's right. O, I believe I know you now--the comical chap I have seen
with Woodburn, at Warner's encampment All right. Glad you happen here
just at this time--we have business on hand.”
“I know it.”
“Know it! how? You didn't come with my sister?”
“No; after her; but got at the wrinkle about the gang down yonder before
she did; and am now on my way to the council, or the camp, with the
news.”
“That I propose to do myself. I have a fleet horse, and it will be best
I should go with the news myself. Besides, I wish to put you, with the
few others I can raise hereabouts, on the track at once. You shall lose
nothing by it; so turn in here, and go with me.”
Content with this assurance of an officer known to be in the confidence
of the council, and quite willing to make one in the expected affray,
Bart cheerfully complied. And the two hurried on to the house the
major had named; where, fortunately, they found not only the owner, but
another fearless patriot, by the name of Purdy, to both of whom the news
just received was communicated; when a hasty plan was devised among them
for the capture of Captain Rose and his band of recruits, who, it was
supposed, had not yet left the neighborhood, even if they had started
from their place of rendezvous.
The dwelling of Asa Rose, which had been selected by the tory captain
as a secluded and safe rallying-point for his band, was situated in
the wood, about three fourths of a mile west of the main road, and
the residence, thereon, of the old widow Rose, who has been already
mentioned, and who was the mother of a hopeful brood of either open or
secret loyalists, as their father, an extensive land-owner, who died
about the beginning of the war, was before them. This old
establishment of the Rose family, well known through the country as the
harboring-place of the disaffected, was a little over a mile from the
bridge over the river, at the south, and about half that distance from
the residence of Major Ormsbee, at the north, where our handful of
spirited friends were now rallying; while from the road, about half way
between the two, diverged the path, which wound round south-westerly to
Asa Rose's, and from which the tories were expected to emerge on their
way out of the neighborhood.
“Here comes Jock with my horse,” said the major, taking die reins from
the boy, a sturdy youth of sixteen, who had not forgotten to bring his
gun with him. “Well, captain,” he continued, leaping into his saddle,
“you understand the arrangement; three of you to take the path to their
rendezvous, then to go on to old mother Rose's, and, if they are there,
give the signal: the long howl of a dog, remember; but if they are not
there, to join the rest, and scout round, watch and delay them while
I, on my way, start out Pettibone and others, and send them directly
through the woods to Asa Rose's to get into the rear All understand, do
you?”
“Ay, ay, major.”
“Well, then, God prosper you all, till I can get on with the platoon of
Warner's boys for the rescue.”
So saying, the major dashed off at full speed towards the village; while
Barney and his men, with no less spirit, hurried on to their respective
destinations, in the opposite direction. The place where the latter were
to separate being soon reached, appearances examined, and no discoveries
made, the captain, with Purdy and young Ormsbee, struck off from the
road, and proceeded cautiously along the bushy outskirts of the path
before mentioned as leading to the supposed rendezvous, leaving to Bart
the task of going on and reconnoitring the old establishment on the main
road, at which, it was believed, the tories would be sure to call,
on their way out, to take a last treat from mother Rose's ever-ready
bottle, and perhaps some provisions from her cupboard, to invigorate
them for their long night march to the British camp. A short walk
now brought Bart in close vicinity to the house he was appointed to
reconnoitre; when, gliding silently along under cover of the fences,
tall weeds, and other screening objects, he quickly made a circuit round
the buildings, contriving, as he did so, to peer into the barns, sheds,
and even into most of the rooms of the capacious old dwelling. He
perceived, however, no indications of the presence of any but females
about the establishment; though, from the movements of these, and
especially those of the old woman, who was busily engaged in cutting
up large quantities of bread and cheese, and in replenishing her junk
bottles, he became satisfied that the company, of whom he was in search,
were shortly expected. Having made these observations, he retired
from the house, crossed over the road into the opposite field, and was
marking out a course for himself through the wood, which would intersect
the path taken by his companions, and enable him to join them somewhere
near the tory rendezvous, when his ear caught the clattering of
horse-hoofs, approaching, at a furious pace, up the road from the south,
And so rapid was the advance of the coming horseman, that Bart had
scarcely time to gain the covert of a clump of shrubbery standing by the
fence, over against the house, before the former made his appearance,
and, turning into the yard, galloped up to an open window, and addressed
a hasty inquiry to the mistress of the house; when, hardly waiting for
the negative reply that appeared to be given, he suddenly wheeled about,
and, regaining the road, pursued his course with renewed speed.
“Why!” exclaimed Bart in surprise, as he caught a view of me man's
features; “as sure as a gun, it is Harry's old troubler, that he thought
he'd killed once, and felt so guilty about it, till he heard he didn't.
But what can the fellow be up to here, in such a hurry, just at this
time? Don't like the looks on't, exactly, Bart, hasn't this tall tory
got wind of our movement, somehow, and come on to warn the gang, that,
not finding here, he has gone to meet? Let's be off and try to trace
him. But hark! Do you hear that? Another coming from the same quarter!
yes, and scratching gravel too, like Mars, I should think, by the way
his horse's feet strike the ground! Here he comes! What! it is, by
mighty--it's Harry and Lightfoot in full chase! Go it, Lightfoot!
Catch him, Harry! Stuboy! stuboy!” he added, in low, eager shouts of
exultation, as the recognized horseman passed, like a flash, by his
place of concealment.
Springing forward to a small elevation in the field, which commanded a
broken view of the road to the path before described, and even a small
portion of the latter, Bart tasked both eye and ear to the utmost, in
trying to trace the dimly-discerned forms of the receding horsemen, now
obviously but a short distance asunder, his object being to ascertain
whether Peters would keep on in the main road, or, as he suspected his
intention to be, strike into the path to Asa Rose's, and try to reach
the tories before he should be overtaken. For one moment, in which he
lost sight of both pursuer and pursued, Bart stood in doubt; but the
next, the changing direction of the still audible sounds, and the slight
glimmerings of the sparks from the horse's hoofs, now seen extending out
in a line nearly at right angles to the course they had been pursuing,
sufficiently apprised him that his suspicions were correct. Waiting,
therefore, no longer than to ascertain this, he turned and plunged into
the wood on his left; and taking the course he had already decided
on for joining his companions, and being now incited to his utmost
exertions of speed by his anxiety to reach the other road in time
to warn Woodburn of the trap into which his antagonist was doubtless
intending to draw him at the tory rendevous, or to be ready to lend any
needed assistance in case a collision took place between them before
reaching it, he made his way through the opposing obstacles of the
thickets with a rapidity, probably, that a wild Indian could not have
equalled, till he suddenly found himself in the path of which he was in
quest, within a few rods of the small opening where stood the suspected
log-tenement of Asa Rose. His first act now was to stoop down and
examine the soft ground in the road, to ascertain whether Peters and his
pursuer had passed the place. A moment's inspection, however, confirming
him in the negative, he rose and bent a listening ear in the direction
of their expected appearance; but no sounds reached him indicative of
their approach. While standing here in doubt respecting the course next
to be pursued, his attention was attracted by a commotion at the house;
when, stepping forward towards the edge of the opening, he caught a
glimpse of the whole body of the tories, with their leader at their
head, just leaving the house and moving silently, and with a quick
step, in the road towards him. Stealing softly away from his post of
observation, he retreated rapidly along the path, some hundred yards
into the wood; when he fortunately encountered Barney and his two men,
to whom he hastily communicated all the discoveries he had made since he
left them.
Fearing, from the non-appearance of Peters and his pursuer, of whom,
strangely, nothing had yet been seen or heard, that the former had given
the latter the slip in some by-path, which would enable him to reach
the tories in the rear, or otherwise apprise them of the danger of
proceeding, Barney instantly adopted the bold resolution of attempting
the immediate capture of the whole band by stratagem, trusting to the
firmness and ingenuity of himself and his men to keep, or get them
forward, till the expected reenforcement should arrive.
“We must multiply ourselves, and then act according to circumstances,”
he said, after apprising his men of his project, which they eagerly
seconded.
“I will multiply into a platoon of ten, and be their orderly, if you
will let me have my own way in the managing of 'em, captain,” said Bart,
entering with great spirit into a plan in which his peculiarities so
well fitted him for taking a leading part.
“Well, then,” replied the other, “take a station in the bushes five or
six rods ahead; the rest of us will take our coverts here, on different
sides of the road. You must all act for yourselves, and on the hints
of the moment; but I will take the lead, and give you such clews as the
case may require.”
Scarcely had this fearless little band settled themselves in their
respective stations, before the tories, marching in close Indian file,
made their appearance, and came forward wholly unsuspicious of danger.
They were permitted to advance unmolested till they were nearly all
between the two points of ambush; when Captain Barney, stepping partly
out from his concealment presented his gun, and exclaimed,--
“Stand! Surrender, or die!”
“Halt!” cried the surprised, though not frightened, tory captain, who
was not only a fine-looking, but cool and capable young officer--“halt,
till we see what all this means.”
“You will soon find out what it means, unless you surrender,'” rejoined
Barney, in a bold and confident tone. “I give you one minute to decide.
Attention there!” he continued, as if addressing a numerous band of
concealed forces--“attention there, right, left, and front platoons!
Every man at his station and ready for the word!”
Purdy and Ormsbee now made a simultaneous movement in the bushes, on
the different sides of the road, by stepping about, hitting their guns
against the trees, and thrusting out the muzzles at various openings
towards the enemy; while, at the same time, the clicking sounds, as
of the irregular cocking of a dozen muskets, with as many distinct
movements of men, apparently, were heard in the direction of Bart's
concealment in front.
“Stand to your arms!” exclaimed Rose, to his men, who now began to show
signs of fear and uneasiness.
“Don't all take aim at the captain, you fools!” shouted Bart, from his
covert, to his men of straw; “don't do that, I tell you! There's enough
of 'em to furnish each of you a separate mark, nearly. There, that looks
more like it! All cocked and ready?”
“Hold up there, Sergeant Burt!” cried Barney; “don't fire yet. Let us
spare their lives if we can. Purdy,” he continued, turning to the man
concealed on his right, “you may give the signal, now, for the reserve
platoons, in front and rear, to advance, and close up on the road. The
minute is nearly out, and I perceive we have got to make a demonstration
before they will surrender.”
The signal howl was then accordingly given, and, to the great joy of the
assailants, immediately answered by Pettibone, who, having reached his
destination in the rear of the house, and seen the tories decamping, was
now, with another man, cautiously advancing towards the scene of action
in the wood; while nearly at the same moment, as it strangely happened,
the sharp reports of three pistols, fired in quick succession, rang
through the forest a short distance on the road to the north. The noise
of fire-arms which, to the assailants, portended a rencounter between
Peters and Woodburn, and filled them with anxiety for the fate of the
latter, was token by the tories as an answer of the signal from the
pretended corps in front, and so completed their dismay that some of
them threw down their arms, and began to cry out for quarter.
“The minute is out; shall we fire, Captain Barney?” exclaimed Bart, in a
tone of impatience.
“Your answer, Captain Rose,” sternly demanded Barney--“your answer this
instant, or----”
“I yield,” said the reluctant tory leader--“We surrender ourselves
prisoners of war.”
“'Tis well, sir,” responded the former. “Lay down your arms, then, here
in the road, advance twenty paces, and wait further orders.”
While this order, which was thus given for the double purpose of
enabling the victors to get between the tories and their guns, and to
give time for Pettibone and his associate to come up, was being carried
into effect, Bart, who had been burning with impatience for a chance
to go to the assistance of his endangered friend. Woodburn, slunk
noiselessly from his post, and made his way, with all possible speed,
towards the spot from whence the noise of the firing appeared to
proceed.
But let us now return to note the issue between the belligerent
horsemen. Woodburn having come in sight of his antagonist soon after
crossing the river, and the latter then taking the alarm, the chase
had proceeded, as witnessed by Bart, till the parties struck into the
by-road leading to the tory rendezvous; when the former, concluding that
Peters would not have turned in here without the expectation of finding
friends and defenders near, now redoubled his exertions to overtake
him, and bring on an encounter while it would have to be decided by
individual prowess, and before his foe should reach assistance to render
the pursuit futile or dangerous. But notwithstanding his efforts, he
soon lost sight of the other in the short turns of the winding and
thickly-embowered path which they soon entered. Expecting, however, that
the next turn in the road would reveal the object of his pursuit, he
dashed ahead some distance; when, becoming satisfied that his antagonist
had given him the slip by riding out of the road into some nook or
side-path in the wood, he retraced his way nearly to the opening, vainly
endeavoring to discover the concealment of the fugitive. Vexed and
disappointed at being thus balked, Woodburn was on the point of giving
up the chase when he caught a glimpse of the other, emerging from a
thicket into the road, not a hundred yards distant, and setting off on a
gallop in the direction first taken. Incited to fresh exertion, Woodburn
now shot forward after his flying foe with a velocity which none but
a horse trained to the rough paths of the wood could equal, and which,
consequently, soon brought the parties in close vicinity of each other.
Peters, now seeing no further chance to escape, suddenly pulled out
a pistol, and, turning in his saddle, discharged it at Woodburn, who,
wholly unharmed by the badly-aimed instrument, instantly returned
the fire. The bullet of the latter, grazing the person of the former,
entered the head of his startled and rearing horse, just back of the
ears, and, after two or three fearful plunges onward, brought him to the
ground. Leaping from his falling horse, the desperate loyalist gained
his feet and discharged another pistol at Woodburn; when, perceiving his
opponent still unhurt, and about to make a rush upon him, he leaped
over the body of his dying horse, still floundering in the edge of the
bushes, and, in the noise thus occasioned, and in the screening smoke of
his own fire, made good his escape into the forest.
“Come back, miscreant! coward!” shouted Woodburn, dismounting, and
leaping forward to the place where the other had disappeared--“come
back, and decide your fate or mine.”
But the new-made tory colonel, who was more a coward from conscience
than nature, in the present instance, perhaps, did not see fit to accept
the challenge for a further personal combat. And Woodburn, judging that
any attempt to pursue him in the woods would be useless, reluctantly
gave up the chase, and turned to go back to his horse; when Bart,
running up and peering an instant at the dying horse and then at his
friend, rushed by the latter, and, throwing himself on the neck of his
loved pony, fell to hugging and fondling her in an ecstasy of delight.
“O Lightfoot! Lightfoot!” he exclaimed; “lucky divil that you are, not
now to be sprawling and kicking, like your tory brother there in the
bushes! Yes, that you are, Lightfoot; and you shall have an oat-supper
to-night that would make a horse, laugh, for catching up with the
rapscallion.”
“Bart!” said Woodburn, in surprise; “how did you get wind of this? But
no matter. You have come too late.”
“Know it--couldn't help it, though--had other fish to fry first, that
musn't cool. Captain Rose and sixteen other tory prisoners are on the
road here, just below.”
“Prisoners! how? By whom taken?”
“O, Captain Barney, and Bart, and I, and Mr Stratagem and one or two
others.”
“What, only three or four of you to seventeen?”
“No; I was a flanking party of ten in the bushes, and sergeant of
'em--cocked all their guns for 'em, by cocking and uncocking my
own--talked for 'em all, out of seven corners of my mouth at once, and
kept 'em from firing till the word, you know. We heard your firing, and
called you the front-guard; and--and we took 'em--every dog of 'em.”
“Bravoes! and no fool of an exploit on your part neither, Bart, if all
this is so. But are the prisoners secured? Had we not better hasten to
join the escort?”
“No, two or three more came up just as I left, and there's enough now to
manage in that quarter; but the advance-guard here must be kept up till
we get 'em out to the groat road, lest the sneaks slink away-into the
woods as they pass along the road and slip through our fingers as your
smart trooper did just now. Let's see--about eight strong we will have
this guard, I guess. I will be rank and file, and you shall be the
officer. Come, mount! They'll be poking their heads along in sight in
a moment. Ay, there they come! Advance-guard!” he now added, in a loud,
commanding tone, as the slow tread of the prisoners, advancing along
the devious and closely-embowered path, became audible--“advance-guard!
Attention the whole! Prepare to march!--march!”
And accordingly he then, as Woodburn mounted and rode slowly on behind,
commenced the enactment of his assumed part, always keeping within
hearing, but never within distinct view, of the prisoners; now jabbering
in as many voices as the most expert ventriloquist, and now sternly
commanding, “_Silence in the ranks!_”--now getting up a seeming scuffle
among his men, and now driving them, with thwacks and curses, to their
places; and now again softening his tones and cracking jokes with his
men,--Smith, Johnson, &c.,--who, in as many different tones, were heard
to return various sharp and comical retorts, which raised shouts of
laughter and made the forest ring with the sham merriment And thus he
proceeded, to the secret amusement of the victors all if whom perfectly
understood the artifice, till they emerged from the woods into the open
grounds on the main road, when they were met by Major Ormsbee with a
small detachment of regular soldiers. The tories were then, for the
first time, permitted to know the smallness of the force that had
captured them when, amidst showers of gibes and shouts of laughter, at
their expense, from the Green Mountain Boys, the chapfallen creatures
were wheeled into the main road, and hurried on at a lively pace to
the village of Manchester, to be kept as prisoners of war, or tried
as spies, as the higher authorities there should see fit to decide.
[Footnote: This band of tories were, the next day after their capture,
marched to Arlington, where the question was raised, and sharply
discussed, whether they should be considered as prisoners of war, or
tried as spies, the latter being insisted on by Mathew Lyon, and some
others of the more bold and ardent friends of the American cause, who
declared that Captain Rose, at least, should be tried and hung as a
spy. A jury, however,--Eli Pettibone, Esq., presiding as civil
magistrate,--was allowed the prisoner; when, more probably, from
sympathy for the manly but misguided young officer, whom they had known
as a pleasant neighbor, than from want of proof, he was acquitted as
a spy, and, with the rest of his band, removed to Northampton jail as
prisoner of war. Considerable favor, also, seems to have been extended
to the other brothers, some of whom married into whig families, through
whose influence, it is said, they retained their estates, none of the
extensive Rose property being confiscated, except that of Captain Samuel
Rose, which is now the residence of the Hon. J. S. Pettibone, from
whom these particulars have been obtained, his father being one of the
captors and his uncle the magistrate, above named.]
“Captain Woodburn!” exclaimed the clear, animated voice of one coming
out of the door of the honored tavern before described, in the village
of Manchester, as the person thus addressed, who had just arrived with
those escorting the prisoners, was describing the capture to a crowd
gathered round him in the yard--“Captain Woodburn, your most obedient! I
am glad my patience in waiting for your arrival is rewarded by the good
news which Powell, our landlord here, has just told us you bring. But
come, sir, a word in your ear, if you please.”
Woodburn turned and confronted the bright and smiling countenance of Ira
Allen, who was beckoning him from the crowd.
“Certainly, Mr. Allen; but why honor me with that appellation?”
responded the former, stepping aside with the ardent young secretary.
“Because I have the warrant for so doing in my pocket--a captain's
commission for you, my dear sir, if you will believe me.”
“Indeed!”
“Yes, we have done something in the council at last worth talking
about--voted to raise a regiment of Rangers forthwith, and appointed all
the commissioned officers, Samuel Herrick heading the list as colonel.”
“A gallant fellow, who will honor the post. But how about the means of
paying and supporting such a force? You lately held taxing the people,
without their consent, too bold a measure, I thought.”
“We did, but have nevertheless adopted a bolder one.”
“What is it?”
“Decreed the confiscation of the estates of the tories, appointed the
necessary officers to execute the decree, and despatched messengers to
them with commissions, instructions, and with orders to put the machine
immediately into motion. By to-morrow nigh many of those on our black
list will--”
“Your black list?”
“Yes, already mostly made out for operations. But what is there to
startle you in that?”
“Nothing; and yet I cannot forbear asking if that list includes one in
whose family you may guess I feel some interest.”
“I fear so, and regret that the proofs are so strong as to require it.”
“Could not action in that case be deferred? An angel is pleading with
him to remain neutral.”
“If she were a whig angel, Woodburn, I know not----”
“She is, she is--firmly, devotedly.”
“Indeed! Well, for your sake, Woodburn, I am glad of it. And as the
political hue of petticoats has already been permitted to have an
influence, in some instances of the kind, in making up the list, it
may have in this case. But the old man's enmity to our cause is so
notorious, that I fear his estate must go, though the daughter, if
she prove true, will not be forgotten on the question of a future
restoration of her share of the property. But I am neglecting my chief
business with you. We have fixed your present destination for the
other side of the mountain, where among your old acquaintances, it was
thought, you could raise a company most expeditiously.”
“But where is the money to come from to pay my recruits: Even in case
these estates are sold, who among us, these times, has money to purchase
them?”
“The answer to that question involves a secret which is known to but a
few of us, and which must not be further revealed. Suffice it that there
is yet among us abundance of money, besides the British gold that
is beginning to be scattered along our border to meet our present
requirements. You will be supplied in season.”
“I am content, and ready to depart.”
“How soon can you start?”
“This hour, if necessary.”
“Retire, then, and obtain a few hours' sleep; but be off before day.
Here are your commission and instructions, by which you will see that
your subalterns are to be of your own appointing. Good-night, and God
speed you on your way. Remember that we expect much of you, and that
I stand voucher for your good conduct. And remember, also, my dear
fellow,” added the speaker, in a low, confidential tone, “that the
interests of your fair friend could not be in better keeping.”
“You have laid me under deep obligations to you, Mr. Allen for all
this,” began Woodburn, with grateful emotion.
“Yes, to do well; but not a word of thanks will I hear. So off with you
to your rest. Begone, sir!” said Allen, pushing the other away, with
that winning smile and kindly playful manner, with which he ever so
wonderfully contrived to gain the hearts and control the actions of all
whom he wished to make friends.