A RARE BEAST
IT is necessary now for us to turn and follow some of the movements of
that army which Tom Coward was so eager to join.
Sir Henry Clinton fully understood that he had little to gain from an
engagement with Washington's army at this time. The Americans were not
holding any position which he desired to gain, their stores and
equipments were of slight value, and if Washington should be defeated,
the result would be that his men would simply be scattered in the
surrounding region, where they would still be free to carry on their
straggling methods of warfare, and harass the British by falling upon
their baggage trains and shooting at the men as they marched along the
country roads.
On the other hand, Clinton's stores were numerous and of no little
value. The loss of them would be a serious blow to the redcoats, while
the possession of them by the Continentals would put new life into the
cause of the poorly equipped patriots. And above all of these things,
the danger which now threatened from the approach of a French fleet led
the British commander to hasten forward to the defense of New York,
which he feared was likely to be the first place to be attacked by the
allies of the colonies.
The very motives which caused Sir Henry to wish to avoid an engagement
were those which appealed most strongly to Washington to enter into one.
He had but little to lose and much to gain. A defeat for the British
would mean a weakening of the defense of New York, and the long train of
baggage wagons was a most tempting prize. The possession of those stores
would replenish the scanty supplies of the Americans; and, as we know,
Washington had eagerly pushed his army forward, hoping to gain a
position in advance of the British and fall upon them in some
advantageous position which he himself could select.
The main body had advanced as far as Hopewell, as we have already
learned in the course of this story, but there had halted for a brief
time. The weather had been unusually trying, and as a consequence the
men were suffering intensely. Even the "oldest inhabitants" had never
known such a summer. The thermometer had climbed well up into the
nineties and then had stayed there. The frequent thunder showers
apparently did not cool the air and afforded no relief, as the
sultriness seemed to be increased by each one. The roads had become
heavy and well-nigh impassable in places, and when at last the men had
marched to the plains of Hopewell, Washington wisely halted to give them
their much needed rest.
Another matter led the great commander to remain there for a time. He
had now gained a position which offered him a considerable advantage,
and he wished to call a council of his officers to consult concerning
his further movements.
Accordingly, the second of the councils since the army had departed from
Philadelphia was then called, and the one question in the mind of the
commander was this: "Will it be advisable to hazard a general
engagement?"
General Charles Lee, who was second in command, and was by some even
then suspected of being in secret league with Howe, was present, and his
voice was soon heard. Lee was a Welshman, brilliant in certain ways,
and had seen much service in the armies of Europe. Many had preferred
him to Washington as the commander-in-chief of the American armies, and
Lee himself was not averse to the idea. He affected to regard Washington
with contempt, looking upon him as a man who lacked military training
and of but little ability. His jealousy already had been the cause of
many serious troubles, and at the present time, in spite of the fact
that he had been exchanged for the British general Prescott, captured in
a manner not unlike that in which Lee himself had been taken in a
previous winter at Morristown, he apparently was unmindful of all the
regard bestowed upon him, and was not unwilling to see Washington make
some mistakes which would bring upon the leader the anger of his
fellows, and perhaps open the way for Lee to gain his position. This
view of the case is certainly to be preferred to that which marked him
simply as a traitor and in league with the enemy, although in all
likelihood both, in a measure, were correct. Probably Washington
understood the man thoroughly at the time, and we may be certain that
his troubles were not decreased by his knowledge.
Lee was possessed of a strikingly ugly face, and his plain features were
the cause of many rude jests among the soldiers who were opposed to him.
But whatever his lacks in personal beauty or moral character may have
been, he at least had a most persuasive tongue. His eager and impulsive
manner, his commonly accredited ability, and his foreign training, which
had great influence among many of his ruder and unpolished companions,
caused some of the men about him to become ready listeners to what he
had to say.
In the council which Washington called at Hopewell, Lee exerted himself
to the utmost to oppose the proposition to enter into an engagement with
the advancing British. So persuasive were his words that the majority of
the officers voted with him that it would not be advisable to detach
more than fifteen hundred men from the main body to harass the enemy on
their flank and rear, while the remainder of the army should preserve
their present position relative to the British, and be governed by
circumstances.
Just what Lee's motive was is not fully apparent. Whether he wished to
avoid a battle or simply desired to cause Washington to fail in taking
advantage of the favorable opportunity, which Lee himself must have seen
had presented itself, is not clearly known. It may have been a
combination of both wishes.
General Wayne bitterly opposed the proposition of Lee, and generals such
as Greene, Lafayette, Steuben, and others, expressed themselves as being
decidedly of the opinion that, at the very least, twenty-five hundred
men should be detached from the main body and sent forward to carry out
Washington's plan.
Lee's motion, however, prevailed; but while Washington seemingly
consented to the decision of the council, we can now see, as we look
backward, that his own purpose was not changed. Perhaps he was
strengthened in his opinion by the words of General Wayne and General
Greene, spoken after the breaking up of the assembly, for we know that
they then expressed themselves very freely to their leader.
Apparently yielding to the expressed wishes of the majority, Washington
dispatched General Scott with fifteen hundred men "to gall the enemy's
left flank and rear," as he expressed it in the letters he wrote that
day to General Dickinson and the president of the Continental Congress;
and on the following day advanced with his army to Kingston, and halted
there on the very day when Tom Coward arrived at the house of Friend
Nathan Brown in Cranberry.
As Tom came down the stairs and entered the room below, his surprise was
great when he saw young Lieutenant Gordon standing before him.
"Where--where did you come from?" said the astonished boy. "I thought
they chased you out into the woods!"
"So they did. So they did," laughed the young officer; "but that doesn't
mean that I was bound to stay there, does it? I had spent the night with
Friend Nathan here, and I had such a good time I almost decided to come
back for another. And then, too, I left a lad here whose face haunted
me, he looked so scared and white."
"I was scared," said Tom, "for I thought they'd got you. How in the
world did you ever manage to get away from them?"
"Oh, I've learned by experience," replied the lieutenant, laughing.
"This was about the closest call I ever had, and once there, when my
horse slipped on the barn floor, I thought I was done for; but it's all
come out right, you see. When I once got into the woods I knew I was
all right, and I didn't have to go very far, either. About noon I
thought I'd venture back and see what had become of Friend Nathan and
Tom Coward, for I didn't believe those redcoats would stay here very
long after they found out that our army is over here by Kingston."
"Kingston?" said Tom quickly. "Kingston? Why, that's only ten miles from
here!"
"Correct, my son; correct. They'll be nearer yet, very soon."
Tom was excited in a moment, and eagerly began to ask many questions.
The young lieutenant replied to them all, and then said to the Quaker,
who had remained silent during the conversation, "And now, Friend
Nathan, you feel sure that those redcoats will carry the word back to
Clinton that we've turned out of our way to meet them, do you?"
"Verily, I do," replied Nathan. "It was for the very purpose of learning
the plans of Washington that they dared to venture as far as this. I
endeavored to learn from the soldier what effect he thought his report
would have upon the British leader, but he did not speak in many words.
Doubtless he considered them valueless to a man of peace. But thy
surmise is correct, I doubt not."
"Then the sooner we put out of this the better, Tom; that is, if you're
still of the same mind you were day before yesterday."
"I'm ready to go," replied Tom eagerly.
The thought of the American army being only ten miles away aroused all
his enthusiasm once more. He knew nothing of camp life, and the
hardships were not in his thoughts. He knew that he had no place to
which he could go, and now that he had left Benzeor's home he felt like
an outcast. Besides, he had dreamed of joining the army, and, now that
at last the longed-for day had arrived, all his curiosity and eagerness
returned in full measure.
"But I haven't any horse and you're mounted," he added. "I don't see how
I can go with you. You can't wait for me to trudge along on foot."
"That is something of a poser," replied the lieutenant. "No, it's a fact
I can't waste much time on the road with such news as I have to carry
back to camp. Perhaps my horse will carry double part of the way."
"I have a beast I might let thee have," said Nathan.
"That's the way to talk!" said the lieutenant eagerly. "Where is this
horse of yours?"
"It is out in the back lot in the woods. My heart was filled with fears
of the war men, and I dared not to leave any of my property within their
sight."
As Nathan still hesitated, the lieutenant said quickly, "Hurry up,
Nathan! Get your horse and let us start. We've no time to lose."
"Thou knowest that I am a man of peace," said the Quaker slowly. "It is
not for me to waste my property in this wicked war."
"That's the way the wind blows, is it?" laughed the lieutenant. "Well, I
don't know that I can promise you very much, but I'll do what I can for
you after I get back to camp. But I'll tell you what, Nathan, you'll not
be the loser to give up the horse to us, and with a good grace, too.
Both of the armies are likely to pass this way, and you won't have much
left on your place, I can tell you. Now, if you give it up you may get
something for it, and then, too, you'll have the credit of doing
something for your country."
"What did the war men give thee, Friend Thomas? Did I not hear thee say
that the war men rewarded thee for thy services?"
"Yes," said Tom quickly, drawing the two half joes forth from his pocket
as he spoke. "Here they are. You can have them and welcome."
"The beast is not what would be considered a valuable one, Friend
Thomas, and yet he is still capable of rendering some service to me. I
will take one of thy half joes and leave the other with thee. Then thou
canst see that I am suitably repaid after thou hast joined thy comrades
in the war."
The young lieutenant slyly winked at Tom as the lad handed the man one
of his half joes, and then said, "Hurry up, Nathan! We've got to start
soon, and ought to be off now. We'll do the best we can for you, as we
said. You're going to give us something to eat, aren't you, before we
go?"
"It shall be according to thy desire. Rachel, if thou hast some milk and
a small portion of corn bread, set it before these guests whilst I am
gone for my beast."
The old man departed, and his wife carried out his request. The
lieutenant and Tom at once seated themselves at the table and hastily
ate the food she set before them, for neither knew when another
opportunity might be found. In the ten miles which lay between them and
the army of Washington many adventures might be awaiting them, and it
was only the part of wisdom to make the most of the present.
"I have thy beast for thee," said Nathan, soon afterwards entering the
room. "He is not what might be called by thee a swift beast, but he is
still possessed of some excellent qualities. Thou hast promised to see
that I am further rewarded for my gift."
Tom and the lieutenant hastened out of the room to examine Nathan's
"gift," and, as they saw the horse which he had tied to the post, they
both stopped in surprise and the lieutenant broke into a loud laugh.
"Oh, Friend Nathan," said he, adopting the Quaker's style of speech,
"thou art a friend indeed! Dost thou call that thing a 'beast'? Thou
hast cheated the lad woefully. A good half joe for that scarecrow? Thou
oughtest to reward Thomas for riding him, for I am of the opinion that I
shall be compelled to carry him into camp in two pieces if he mounts
that 'razorback.' Oh, Nathan, Nathan! Who would have believed it of
thee?"
The horse was old and gaunt. A spavin was apparent in one leg, while on
another was a great ringbone. One eye betrayed its blindness, and,
altogether, the poor animal presented a most woe-begone and helpless
appearance.
"He hath not beauty, as I told thee," said Nathan soberly. "But he is of
value to me, and thou hast promised to see that I am suitably rewarded."
"Oh, Tom! Tom!" laughed the lieutenant. "What a sight you'll be on the
back of that bunch of bones! There's no help for it, though. Come on and
we'll see what the poor 'beast' can do!"