THE SKIRMISH AND ESCAPE OF CAPTAIN WHARTON.
The videttes and patrols now came pouring in, each making in
succession his hasty report to the commanding officer, who gave his
orders coolly and with a promptitude that made obedience certain.
Major Dunwoodie had received from his scouts all the intelligence
concerning the foe which was necessary to enable him to make his
arrangements. The bottom of the valley was an even plain, that fell
with a slight inclination from the foot of the hills on either side to
the level of a natural meadow that wound through the country on the
banks of a small stream. This brook was easily forded, and the only
impediment it offered to the movements of the horse was in a place
where its banks were more steep and difficult of access than common.
Here the highway crossed it by a rough wooden bridge.
The hills on the eastern side of the valley were abrupt, and
frequently obtruded themselves in rocky prominences into its bosom.
One of these projections was but a short distance in the rear of the
squadron of dragoons, and Dunwoodie directed Captain Lawton to
withdraw with two troops behind its cover. Dunwoodie knew his man, and
had selected the captain for this service both because he feared his
precipitation in the field, and knew, when needed, his support would
never fail to appear. On the left of the ground on which Dunwoodie
intended to meet his foe was a close wood, which skirted that side of
the valley for the distance of a mile. Into this, then, the guides
retired, and took their station near its edge, in such a manner as
would enable them to maintain a scattering but effectual fire on the
advancing column of the enemy.
Dunwoodie's men now sat panting to be led once more against foes whom
they seldom charged in vain. A few minutes enabled the major to
distinguish their character. In one troop he saw the green coats of
the Cow-Boys and in the other the leathern helmets and wooden saddles
of the yagers.[54] Their numbers were about equal to the body under
his immediate orders.
[Footnote 54: These were Hessian soldiers (from Hesse-Cassel,
in Germany) hired by Great Britain. The Cow-Boys were
Americans enlisted as soldiers in the British army. On the
next page they are referred to as the "refugee troop."]
On reaching the open space near the cottage of Harvey Birch, the enemy
halted and drew up his men in line, evidently making preparations for
a charge. At this moment a column of foot appeared in the vale, and
pressed forward to the bank of the brook we have already mentioned.
Major Dunwoodie at once saw his advantage, and determined to profit by
it. The column he led began slowly to retire from the field, when the
youthful German who commanded the enemy's horse, fearful of missing an
easy conquest, gave the word to charge. The Cow-Boys sprang eagerly
forward in the pursuit; the Hessians followed more slowly, but in
better order. The trumpets of the Virginians now sounded long and
lively; they were answered by a strain from the party in ambush that
went to the hearts of their enemies. The column of Dunwoodie wheeled
in perfect order, opened, and, as the word of charge was given, the
troops of Lawton emerged from their cover, with their leader in
advance, waving his sabre over his head, and shouting in a voice that
was heard above the clamor of the martial music.
The charge threatened too much for the refugee troop. They scattered
in every direction, flying from the field as fast as their horses
could carry them. It was upon the poor vassals of the German tyrant
that the shock fell. Many of them were literally ridden down, and
Dunwoodie soon saw the field without an opposing foe.
Captain Wharton had been left in the keeping of two dragoons, one of
whom marched to and fro on the piazza with a measured tread, and the
other had been directed to continue in the same apartment with the
prisoner.
The lawn in front of the Locusts was hidden from the road by a line of
shrubbery, and the horses of the two dragoons had been left under its
shelter to await the movements of their masters.
At this moment two Cow-Boys, who had been cut off from a retreat to
their own party, rode furiously through the gate, with an intention of
escaping to the open wood in the rear of the cottage. Feeling
themselves in the privacy of the lawn, relieved from any immediate
danger, they yielded to a temptation that few of the corps were ever
known to resist--opportunity and horseflesh--and made towards their
intended prizes by an almost spontaneous movement. They were busily
engaged in separating the fastenings of the horses, when the trooper
on the piazza discharged his pistols, and rushed, sword in hand, to
the rescue.
This drew the wary dragoon in the parlor to the window.
He threw his body out of the building, and with dreadful imprecations
endeavored by threats and appearance to frighten the marauders from
their prey. The moment was enticing. Three hundred of his comrades
were within a mile of the cottage; unridden horses were running at
large in every direction, and Henry Wharton seized the unconscious
sentinel by his legs and threw him headlong into the lawn. Caesar
vanished from the room, and drew a bolt of the outer door.
Recovering his feet, the sentinel turned his fury for a moment on his
prisoner. To scale the window in the face of such an enemy, was,
however, impossible, and on trial he found the main entrance barred.
His comrade now called loudly upon him for aid, and forgetting
everything else, the discomfited trooper rushed to his assistance. One
horse was instantly liberated, but the other was already fastened to
the saddle of a Cow-Boy, and the four retired behind the building,
cutting furiously at each other with their sabres, and making the air
resound with their imprecations. Caesar threw the outer door open, and
pointing to the remaining horse, that was quietly biting the faded
herbage of the lawn, he exclaimed:
"Run, now, run--Massa Harry, run!"
"Yes," cried the youth, as he vaulted into the saddle, "now indeed, my
honest fellow, is the time to run."
When the fortune of the day was decided, and the time arrived for the
burial of the dead, two Cow-Boys and a Virginian were found in the
rear of the Locusts, to be included in the number.
Wharton's horse was of the best Virginian blood, and carried him with
the swiftness of the wind along the valley; and the heart of the youth
was already beating tumultuously with pleasure of his deliverance,
when a well-known voice reached his startled ear, crying loudly:
"Bravely done, captain! Don't spare the whip, and turn to your left
before you cross the brook."
Wharton turned his head in surprise, and saw, sitting on the point of
a jutting rock that commanded a bird's-eye view of the valley, his
former guide, Harvey Birch. The English captain took the advice of
this mysterious being, and finding a good road which led to the
highway that intersected the valley, turned down its direction, and
was soon opposite to his friends. The next minute he crossed the
bridge, and stopped his charger before his old acquaintance, Colonel
Wellmere.
"Captain Wharton!" exclaimed the astonished commander of the English
troops.
"Thank God!" cried the youth, recovering his breath, "I am safe, and
have escaped from the hands of my enemies."
The captain briefly explained to the group of listeners the manner of
his capture, the grounds of his personal apprehensions, and the method
of his escape. By the time he had concluded his narration, the
fugitive Germans were collected in the rear of the column of infantry,
and Colonel Wellmere cried aloud:
"From my soul I congratulate you, my brave friend; prepare yourself to
grant me your assistance, and I will soon afford you a noble revenge."
"I do not think it altogether prudent to cross this brook into the
open plain, in the face of those Virginian horse, flushed as they must
be with the success they have just obtained," returned young Wharton.
"Do you call the rout of those irregulars and these sluggish Hessians
a deed to boast of?" said the other.
"And I must be allowed to say, Colonel Wellmere, that if the
body-guards of my king were in yon field, they would meet a foe that
it would be dangerous to despise. Sir, Mr. Dunwoodie is the pride of
Washington's army as a cavalry officer," cried Henry, with warmth.
Colonel Wellmere inquired with a supercilious[55] smile:
[Footnote 55: haughty.]
"You would not have us retire, sir, before these boasted horsemen,
without doing something that may deprive them of part of the glory
which you appear to think they have gained?"
"I would have you advised, Colonel Wellmere, of the danger you are
about to encounter."
"Danger is but an unseemly word for a soldier," continued the British
commander, with a sneer.
"And one as little dreaded by the 60th as any corps who wear the royal
livery," cried Henry Wharton, fiercely; "give but the word to charge,
and let our actions speak."
"Now again I know my friend," cried Wellmere, soothingly; "but if you
have anything to say before we fight that can in any manner help us in
our attack, we'll listen. You know the force of the rebels; are there
more of them in ambush?"
"Yes," replied the youth, chafing still under the other's sneers; "in
the skirt of the wood on our right are a small party of foot; their
horse are all before you."
"Where they will not continue long," cried Wellmere, turning to the
few officers around him. "Gentlemen, we will cross the stream in
column and display on the plain beyond, or else we shall not be able
to entice these valiant Yankees within the reach of our muskets.
Captain Wharton, I claim your assistance as an aide-de-camp."
The youth shook his head in disapprobation of a movement which his
good sense taught him was rash, but prepared with alacrity to perform
his duty in the impending trial.