"How many would like to take another trip up or down the river
to-morrow?" asked Captain Raymond, as they sat together on the front
porch after leaving the tea table.
"Every one of us, I presume, captain," said Grandma Elsie, with a
smiling glance from one to another of the eager, interested faces
about them.
"Oh, yes; yes, indeed, we would!" exclaimed several voices, Mrs.
Leland adding, "We could hardly contrive a more delightful way of
spending the time; there are a number of historic spots which would be
interesting ones to visit."
"Tarrytown and the other places connected with Arnold's treachery,"
suggested Violet.
"Fishkill, too, is a historically interesting place," said her mother.
"West Point also," remarked Lucilla. "Papa took Max and me there once,
but I should not at all object to going again."
"I think we can visit all the places mentioned within the next few
days," said her father; "and we need not decide until to-morrow
morning which we will take first."
"In the meantime we may talk the matter over, I suppose, and see what
the majority is in favor of?" remarked Lucilla inquiringly.
"I think that would be a good plan," said her father. "Let everyone
feel at perfect liberty to give his or her opinion."
"I think we could hardly find a more interesting locality to visit
than Fishkill," said Grandma Elsie. "Though perhaps a longer sail may
be thought desirable."
"We could supplement it with as long a one as we might find agreeable,
by passing on either up or down the river, upon returning from the
shore to the yacht," said the captain.
"Why, yes, so we could," said Violet; "and I think it would be very
enjoyable."
"Papa, what is there to see at Fishkill? and what happened there in
the Revolution?" asked Elsie Raymond.
"Quite a good deal," replied the captain. "Fishkill village lies five
miles eastward from the landing of that name, on a plain near the
foot of the mountains. Those high mountains sheltered it from invasion
in the time of the Revolution, and it was chosen as a place of safe
deposit for military stores. Also for the confinement of Tory
prisoners and others captured by strategy or in skirmishes upon the
neutral ground in West Chester. For a while too a portion of the
Continental Army was encamped there; also the State Legislature met
there at one time."
"Was the camp in the town, papa?" asked Grace.
"No; the barracks were about half a mile south of the village. The
officers had their quarters at the house of a Mr. Wharton, and the
barracks extended along the road from there to the foot of the
mountains."
"Is not that vicinity the scene of many of the incidents given in
Cooper's 'Spy'?" asked Mr. Leland.
"Yes," replied the captain. "Enoch Crosby was a spy who did good
service to his country in that capacity, and is supposed to have been
the original of Cooper's spy--Harvey Birch. In the Wharton House,
Crosby at one time went through a mock trial by the Committee of
Safety, and was then confined in irons in the old Dutch church in the
village. It was in the autumn of 1776 he began his career as spy in
the service of his country by learning the plans and purposes of the
Tories and revealing them to his Whig friends. In that neighborhood,
at that time, secret foes were more to be feared than open enemies,
but for a long time Crosby mingled with the Tories, learning their
plans and purposes, without being suspected by them; they thought him
as much an enemy to his and their country as they were themselves.
Lossing tells us that while on one of his excursions he asked lodging
for the night of a woman who proved to be a Tory; and that from her he
learned that a company of Tories was being formed in the neighborhood
with the intention of marching to New York and joining the British
Army. He seemed delighted with the idea and most anxious to join the
company. He gained the confidence of its captain and learned all his
plans. It seems that after their talk they retired to bed; but Crosby
did not immediately fall asleep. When all had grown quiet, so that
there was reason to suppose everyone else was asleep, he rose and
stealthily left the house, hastened to White Plains, where lived the
Committee of Safety, and told them what he had just learned of the
plans of the Tories. He also suggested that they should hold a meeting
the following evening and send a band of Whigs to arrest the Tories
and himself as though believing him to be one of them. That plan was
carried out; they were all made prisoners, taken to Fishkill, and
confined in the old stone church. I believe that church is one of the
relics of the Revolution which yet remain.
"When the arrested men were taken there the Committee of Safety was
already at the Wharton House prepared to try them. They held an
examination of the prisoners after which they--Crosby among the
rest--were sent back to their prison. Seemingly by accident, he was
left alone with the Committee for a few minutes and the plan was
concerted by which he might escape.
"At the northwest corner of the church was a window hidden by a
willow. He reached the ground through that, got rid of his loose
manacles, sprang out of his concealment, and rushed away past the
sentinels with the speed of a deer. The sentinels fired a few shots
after him, but missed him in the gloom; and he escaped unhurt to a
swamp."
"Oh, that was good!" cried Eric. "Did he have any more such escapes,
uncle?"
"Yes; twice after that he was made a prisoner with Tories, but managed
to escape each time. At one time Colonel Van Cortlandt was stationed
with a detachment of troops on the east side of the Hudson, to watch
what was going on upon the Neutral Ground. One day Crosby was with a
part of that detachment near Teller's Point and the mouth of the
Croton River, when they saw a British sloop of war come sailing up the
stream. It cast anchor in the channel opposite. Crosby and six others
then went to the Point, where all but one concealed themselves in the
bushes, while the other, dressed in infantry uniform, paraded the
beach. Of course the officers on the sloop soon saw and determined to
capture him. They promptly sent a boat with eleven men to take him.
But as the British landed the American ran. They pursued, not thinking
of any danger. Then Crosby and his companions began making a noise in
the bushes that made it seem as though they were half a regiment; then
they rushed out and called on the enemy to surrender--which they did
without firing a shot. The next day the stone church at Fishkill held
them as prisoners."
"I suppose Crosby was a born American, uncle?" Eric said inquiringly.
"Yes; born in Massachusetts early in January, 1750."
"That would make him twenty-five a few months before the war began.
But he did not live in Massachusetts?"
"No; his parents moved to New York while he was still an infant. When
he grew up he learned the trade of a shoemaker; but when the war broke
out he gave up his trade and shouldered a musket. He was living at
Danbury then, and was one of the hundred men who in 1775 marched to
Lake Champlain and fought battles in that quarter until Quebec was
stormed. It was after his return from that expedition that he engaged
in the secret service."
"Being a spy?" queried Neddie.
"Yes; but at length finding that his many escapes after being taken
prisoner by the Whigs had excited the suspicions of the Tories, he
gave up that work and joined a detachment of the Continental Army then
stationed in the Highlands."
"I hope he didn't get killed, papa?" said Little Elsie.
"No; he lived through the war, and for many years afterward. In 1827
he was in New York City as witness at a trial in court, and an old
gentleman who knew him introduced him to the audience as the original
of Harvey Birch--Cooper's spy. That story had been turned into a play,
and was then being performed at one of the theatres. Notice was given
that Crosby had accepted an invitation to attend the play, and the
house was crowded with an audience who warmly greeted the old
soldier."
"I'm glad they did," said Elsie. "It must have been pleasant for him,
and I'm sure he deserved it; for he had helped a great deal to get us
all free. Papa, haven't we just the very best country in all the
world?"
"So I think," her father answered with a smile; adding, "and that
being the case we ought to be the best people in all the world. Don't
you think so, daughter?"
"Yes, indeed, papa; and I mean to try."
"Why not go to Fishkill to-morrow?" asked Sydney.
"All in favor of so doing may say aye," said the captain, glancing
around upon the small crowd of hearers, big and little.
"Aye!" exclaimed every voice, and that was followed by a ripple of
laughter. As that died down, "We seem to be of one mind," remarked the
captain pleasantly. "Well, the yacht will be ready to start
immediately after breakfast, if the weather is pleasant. We would
hardly wish to go in a storm."
"Oh, no!" exclaimed several voices; "especially as we have plenty of
time to wait for a pleasant day."
"Yes," the captain said; "but there is every indication that we will
not have to do so--that to-morrow will prove as fine a day as we
could wish; and I suggest that our young people--and all older ones
who desire plenty of sleep--should retire pretty soon; for we will
need to rise early if we want abundance of time for our expedition.
The trip on the river will be short, but we will probably want to
spend at least half the day on shore."
Everyone followed the captain's good advice; they were all up early
next morning and ready to start on their proposed trip in good season.
The weather proved pleasant, no accident befell any of them, and all
enjoyed very thoroughly their visit to Fishkill and its vicinity. They
visited the Verplanck House--interesting as having been the
headquarters of Baron Steuben when the American Army was encamped near
Newburgh, and also as the place where the celebrated Society of the
Cincinnati was organized in 1783.
"Won't you please tell us something about Baron Steuben, papa?" asked
Elsie Raymond as they were returning from their visit to the Verplanck
House.
"Yes," replied the captain. "He was a German soldier, born in
Magdeburg, Prussia. His full name was Frederick William Augustus Henry
Ferdinand von Steuben. His father was a captain in the army, and he
became a soldier when a mere lad. He saw and took part in a great deal
of fighting, and in 1762 was made aide to Frederick the Great. He took
part in the siege of Schweidnitz, and that closed his military career
in his own land. He retired from the army, and was living most
comfortably on a salary, while we were struggling for our freedom. In
December, 1777, he went to Paris, on his way to visit some English
noblemen who were friends of his. In Paris he met the French minister
of war, who seems to have been a good friend to America, for, knowing
that the great weakness of our army lay in the fact that the men
lacked discipline and knew little or nothing of military tactics, he
tried to persuade Steuben to come to this country and teach them.
"But very naturally the baron was not willing to sacrifice his income
and his honors in order to help a cause that seemed so desperate. Yet
at length he yielded to Germain's solicitation and promises, and
decided to come to the help of the struggling Colonies. He came over
on a French gunboat; having a long stormy passage of fifty-five days,
the vessel taking fire three times--a very hazardous thing, as there
were 1700 pounds of powder on board. Also there was an attempt to
mutiny. However, he finally arrived safely at Portsmouth, N. H. He had
a warm welcome there, the whole population going out to receive him."
"And did he go right into our army, papa?" asked Elsie.
"He wrote at once to Congress offering his services to the Colonies,
saying he had come to this country because he would serve a nation
engaged in the noble work of defending its rights and liberties,
adding that although he had given up an honorable title and lucrative
rank, he asked neither riches nor honors. He called upon Congress, and
told them he would enter the army as a volunteer; if his services were
not satisfactory, or if the Colonies failed to establish their
independence, he was to receive nothing; but if they were successful,
and he remained in the army, he expected to be refunded the income he
had given up, and remunerated for his services."
"That was a good offer," remarked Eric. "I suppose they accepted it?"
"They did," replied his uncle; "and Steuben went to Valley Forge,
where Washington and his army were encamped at that time. When he saw
our half-starved, poorly clad soldiers come creeping out of their huts
he was astounded, and said 'No European army could be kept together a
week in such a state.' But he began his work at once. He did a great
work; probably we could never have won our independence without the
help he gave us in training our soldiers for the hard struggle
necessary to win it. The fine effect of that discipline was seen in
the Battle of Monmouth, when Baron Steuben rallied the retreating and
disordered troops of Charles Lee like veterans."
"Did he stay in this country till the war was over, papa?" asked
Elsie.
"Yes; and as long as he lived. He made New York City his home for
several years. I am ashamed to say that Congress refused to fulfil its
contract with him to pay him for his services, but he was given
grants of land in New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Virginia. The first he
declined to take when he learned that it was the estate of an old Tory
who would be left destitute, and in the kindness of his heart he
interceded for him. Steuben was very kind-hearted and generous.
Lossing gives us some anecdotes illustrative of that. He says that in
Newburgh, at the time of the disbanding of the army, Colonel Cochran
was standing in the street penniless, when Steuben tried to comfort
him by saying that better times would come.
"'For myself,' replied the brave officer, 'I can stand it; but my wife
and daughters are in the garret of that wretched tavern; and I have
nowhere to carry them, nor even money to remove them.' As Lossing
says, 'The baron's generous heart was touched, and, though poor
himself, he hastened to the family of Cochran, poured the whole
contents of his purse upon the table, and left as suddenly as he had
entered.'
"As he was walking toward the wharf a wounded negro soldier came up to
him bitterly lamenting that he had no means with which to get to New
York. The baron borrowed a dollar, handed it to the negro, hailed a
sloop, and put him on board. 'God Almighty bless you, baron!' said the
negro as Steuben walked away. Many such stories could be told of the
kind-hearted baron."
"What a shame that Congress did not keep the promise it made him when
he first came over here!" exclaimed Lucilla.
"Yes; it was a great shame," acknowledged her father; "however, after
seven years of delay they allowed him a pension of $2400. Then he
retired to his land; he had a whole township near Utica, N. Y. He
cleared sixty acres of that, built a loghouse upon it, and made his
home there for the rest of his life; though he went to New York every
winter. On the 22d of November, 1795, he was making preparation for
that yearly visit, when he was stricken with paralysis. Three days
afterward he died. In accordance with directions which he had given,
he was buried near his house, with his military cloak around him and
the star of honor that he always wore on his breast."
"Ah, the dear, good man! I hope he is reaping a great reward in the
other world," said Sydney.
"A wish which I think we can all echo from our hearts," responded
Grandma Elsie.