Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 20, Number 105, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 September 1899 — THE PATRIOTS TALISMAN [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE PATRIOTS TALISMAN

Sylvanus Cobb,Jr

I CHAPTER VIII. ■ ; Valley Forge! A name sacred in the I annals of America—a shrine to which the 1 1- lovers of Liberty can make duteous pilI £ frimage—the place above all others on II the continent where, in grateful, reverenI» ' tial remembrance, we can fix the spiritual |||Sptar to the genius of American Indepen|F deuce. I ts murmuring vale and templed I jl'hills are redolent to heaven of the incense I [ es undying devotion, and its story will ■ Rondure while human patriotism is cher- | tahed and honored. On no battlefield was I Blkhch rue heroism ever displayed as was lE displayed by those willing martyrs who the winter of 1777-78 at Valley I ByncKe. In the fierce conflict of arms uplE. -on the field of battle the passions are ■Ksaroused: the flame and the smoke change Ik?. men t° mere machines of wrath; while ■ I surrounding carnage and destruction only I h serve to harden the hearts of the living i||«»ore~and more to human sensibility. But ■Ktthrough this dreary winter ten thousand |K Patriots, held to their post by the stern KKaense of duty alone, braved such enemies BE as were not braved before nor thereafter Rgjiduring the war. Cold, disease and death Blßwere constant companions, and officers Brand men shared the privations alike. In ■m.that December march from Whitemarsh to Valley Forge, many of the troops were BKabsolutely barefooted and their thicks in ER-the snow were stained with blood from B||l>ruised and lacerated feet! And they ■Bbore up. The prize they sought wm Lib■Lerty. an d t 0 the sacred cause thtfv lives EHhad been pledged. ■ K Noble band of martyrs! If, from the BRtelestial abode, they can look down upon ■Kthis Centennial year, shall they not feel EEI-that their work has been abundantly BMessed? H | Though the campaign of 1776 had been EE- -in the main disastrous to the American ■hcause, yet the year closed with a brilliant BMfexploit— the crossing of the Delaware and BEthe attack upon the British at Trenton. HBwhere the killed and those made prisonBBprs of the enemy, almost equalled in numWashington's whole fighting force. BKtmmediately following this signal victory Hind come the bold attack upon the enemy BHiet Princeton, where again success crownthe American arms. During the sum■lkner and autumn of 1777. Washington's army gained but little. The BKnost important battle was that of Branon Sept. 11, where the AmeriHB cans ’ fighting all day long, were to retreat. This gave the enemy ■entrance to Philadelphia, and on the 26th BBfOf September Gen. Howe entered with EBffi ß arm y» a nd occupied that city. Early Hfiin October an atack was made upon that of the British army stationed at MjGermantown, where again the Patriots ■Jwere repulsed with loss. H ..But though the altar fires seemed to EBgrow dim for a season upon the DelaMB'are, they burned brightly and cheering■Hy' upon the Hudson. The battle of BenBMilngton on the 16th of August, and the Hftw o battles of Stillwater, on Sept. 14 and ■Kkt. 7, were the occasions of glorious vicHftories for the Patriot arms, and on the ■ g7th of this same October, at Saratoga. M|Gen. Burgoyue surrendered his whole one of the finest and best appointBHtd which had been sent to this country, Bjghto the hands of the Americans. EE K-And so we come to December. 1777, EMkith the British army under Sir William in winter quarters in PhiladelEH>hia, while Washington, with his band gM of Patriots, had quartered at Valley EBPorge. Gen. Howe’s force, in Philadelwas full twenty thousand. WashEE inßton had not quite eleven thousand, and SBj>f those nearly three thousand were unfit M for duty. EE i Washington's headquarters were at the BHghouse of Isaac Potts, a -Quaker preacher BHmhd mill owner, near the creek. South of BHshis. at a short distance, were quartered BBglie bodyguard; and still further south BH&as the brigade of Gen. Mclntosh, the BKinain part of the army being nearly a mile BBlistant. south and west, upon the slopes BH the hills. Not far from the quarters EHtf Mclntosh were the shots of Seaton's and near by these latter, to the BHSkestward, " ere the quarters of Capt. Lee, with his cavalry, the eom-BHgKander-in-chief having chosen to have light-horse near to his call. ■g January had set in cold and cheerless. storms of snow and wind; the huts the army had been built; necessary BH edoubts thrown up; and such of the as were not on guard or sick were BHg&ther on the hillsides gathering wood, or s£Rtlddling around the campfires. HBBln the hut appropriated to the commisHKaoned officers of Seaton s cavalry, ami EEHplich those officers had themselves built. »>t our hero and Roderic Douglas. It EHras evening, and they were alone. The HMmy’ light came from the logs that blazed EHR- the wide stone fireplace, for candles MHtere a luxury little known in that valley |Kaa long time the two had been sitting HUEyfoecp thought. Seaton had been thinkHBu&pf Lillian. He had heard from I’aAngell twice since the British hail Philadelphia. Jacob Eastcourt EMKj returned to that city, and his wife EEEIraS still living, though utterly prostratEMmF She had seemed to revive during her Hw in the mountain district, but the fa IMyijfae of the return journey had been more BEE. 15D she could safely bear. She might b<EEEMM} crc this; and what then would be HKgßJinn’s fate*? jffijjffihother piece of information which Pa jSsSgb' Fjfeec had given afforded the lover food EEB Byharrowing thought. Jacob Eastcourt held in high esteem by the British. M| W 9 u * te a number of the officers, high •' L* ank and title, had permanent quarters his roof. He knew too well the of not a few of those officers. M he knew the feelings with which they foot upon these shores. He also nw the character of Jacob East court— Hr".hi« hardness of heart towards his r<^ lighter—knew his ambition and his 1 an(1 ' knowing this, he could well i&X ■Rfte how he might seek to make Lil■Sm■■Stepping Stone for himself to place power. But—might not Lillian have protect herself? He would as '■ -■ 'lpl have thought of questioning the heaven itself as to have quesenduring love and faith of if ht>r father sb ° uJd put K _

forth his authority against her, what could she do? Seaton tried to shut out the picture. It could yield him only aimless unrest, and that continually. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again they rested upon the hilt of the sword which he wore at his side, and upon which his left hand was resting; and this led his thoughts to the deathbed of his father, and thence into a train that always brought vain and harrowing perplexity. What was the secret of that sword? Who and what was old Stephen Wilson, and where was he? Should he ever see him again? Surely, there was some secret of his life which that strange man could alone unravel. Was that secret forever buried? Qould its discovery have any effect, for good or ill, upon his future life? Oh! what was the use! He had entertained these same reflections a thousand times, and always with the same unsatisfactory results. Resolving to throw off the incubus, he aroused himself and looked towards his companion, who sat gazing vacantly into the fire. “Douglas, a penny for your thoughts!” “Eh?” returned the lieutenant, looking, up. “Upon my soul, Captain, I have been upon the point of hailing you in the same fashion at least a dozen times within the last half hour. But I can tell you what I was thinking of. I was thinking of the old question I asked you in this very valley sixteen months ago; and I was thinking of the answer that had been coming to me continually through those eventful months. You remember the question?” “Yes. You were anxious to know how we should be next employed.” “Exactly, Seaton; and I have been on a continuous round of discovery ever since. “And,” he pursued, in a lower tone, “my thoughts have been pandering over the broad field of experience which the months have opened up to us. We who are living have gained a fame which cannot die.” “It will not be allowed to die if our country lives,” returned Seaton; “but,” he added, with a mournful shake of his head, “who can tell what the future may bring forth of sorrow and sore defeat?” “Pshaw! You are in an ugly dream, Captain. Do you talk of defeat? In the name of heaven's mercy, look around upon this camp! Look upon the ten thousand martyrs! Are they not martyrs, in deed and in truth? Hark ye, Robert: This evening, just at nightfall, I had occasion to go over to the forges to give directions about shoes for our horses. On my return I crossed the creek by the upper foot bridge, and as I approached the thicket below Snelling's redoubt, I heard a solemn voice issuing from among the scrubby cedars. I drew nearer, with cautious tread, and beheld a scene that I shall never forget—a scene that stirred my soul to its utermost depths. I saw Gen. Washington kneeling upon the frozen crust, his hands folded and lifted heavenword, tears rolling down his cheeks, and he was praying—humbly and devoutly, and with child-like earnestness, beseeching the Heavenly Father to bless and protect his suffering soldiers, and to save our bleeding country! I crept away with a solemn Amen upon my lips, and with the conviction firm in my heart that God would hear and answer Washington’s prayer. I tell you, Robert, we shall succeed! Such heroic devotion as our men manifest, directed by our inspired chieftain, cannot fail of accomplishing its object. Men fighting for liberty, with hope of no other reward, do not easily tire. England shall tire first. My faith in American independence is firm and fixed, like the everlasting hills!” “Douglas!” cried our hero, starting to his feet, his handsome face flushed, and his gray eyes blazing, “give me your hand! I am with you, heart and soul. I had had unpleasant thoughts. If 1 could forget the past——” “No, no, Captain—you cannot afford to do that. I think I know what troubles you. Courage! courage! Hope for the best.”

“I will try, Douglas. Ah!” At this point the door of the hut was opened, and a man, wearing the uniform of a cavalry captain, entered. He was young and fair, not more than two-and-twenty years of age, slightly but firmly built, with .sinews of steel, and with a face so frank and so grave that it compelled respect and confidence at first sight. He was Henry Lee. of Virginia —“Light-Horse Harry"—one of the most daring and successful of the Patriot leaders. and one of the noblest sons of the Old Dominion. "Robert, do I intrude?” "Bless you, Harry, never! Pull up a seat.” ’ "First, my boy, hang this bit of mutton away for your breakfast.” And the visitor laid upon the table about half a mutton leg. "It’s not fat,” he added, "but it’ is a rare treat for this place. I met his ramship in the woods this afternoon, and brought him down with my pistol. Most of the carcass I gave to my boys for a company broth, and I kept for my own but just such a piece as I have brought you.” While Seaton returned thanks, Douglas went to hang the meat away. “Be sure I will remember you when 1 shoot a bear,” said our hero, after the lieutenant had resumed bis seat, “and,’ he added, seriously, “you will not be forgotten when we eat our next meal. Ah, Harry, this is no light matter. Our men must have meat somehow. This rigorous cold cannot be endured upon the food of the last three days.” “You are right, Robert. I have men in my command who once thought they could never get through a winter’s campaign without their daily allowance of rum; bnt they will gladly give up their rum now, to the very last drop, for a daily bit of meat. Our wants are not answered as they were when Congress was in session in Philadelphia. It is harder to reach them away in that little town of York, beyond the Susquehanna.” “But,” said Seaton, “Washington has been clothed with full power to meet such emergencies. Congress has, for the

time being, surrendered its authority Into his hands, and constituted him really a military dictator. He should bridge over this difficulty without delay. I tell you, Harry, a famine is upon the camp.” “Aye, and our chieftain realizes it. Be assured he will ” Before Lee could finish his sentence an orderly arrived with a verbal message from the commander-in-chief to Captain Seaton. Our hero was wanted at headquarters immediately. “Will you wait here until I return, Harry?” “Certainly. I am anxious to know w’hat are the general’s orders; and, besides, I have something further to give you. Don't stop now. I'll explain when you come back.” Seaton put on his hat and cloak, and followed the messenger from the hut. He found Washington alone in his private room, a small apartment on the eastern side of the house, the deep window of which overlooked most of the distant camp. The general’s brow was clouded; his lips were compressed, and he had been drumming thoughtfully with his fingers upon the table by which he sat; but he looked pleasantly up when the young cavalryman entered, and saluted him warmly and even affectionately. When he had motioned his visitor to a seat he arose' and went to the window, where he lifted the top of the broad, deep sill as he would have lifted the cover of a chest, and from the capacious cavity within he took a paper, with which he returned to his seat.

“Captain,” he said, “I have sent for you to give into your charge a mission requiring in its execution courage and zeal, and clear discrimination. Your first lieutenant, I think, is well acquainted with the highways and byways of the farming districts beyond the hills?” “Yes, sir,” answered Seaton. “He understands the topography of the country, and he knows the people.” “Very well. He will be of assistance in guiding you. You are aware, Captain, that our troops are suffering from want of meat. They must suffer no more, if I can prevent it. I can beter afford to draw down the enmity of the Tory farmers than to court foi- my men the enemy of starvation. On this paper are the names of five-and-twenty farmers who own cattle, and who are known to sympathize with our enemies; You will muster your troops to-morrow morning and visit these men. It may take you two days—perhaps longer. I want you to bring back two hundred head of cattle, and you will lay the distraint as evenly ns you can. Let each be levied Upon according to his means; and in this 1 trust you to exercise your own judgment. Let no animal be hidden from you. Here are blank forms of acknowledgment. To every man from whom you take cattle you will give one of these, specifying the number and quality taken, with your attested signature. Perhaps Lieut. Douglas had beter attest them. You understand ?” “Perfectly, General.” “And you are aware of the dangers against which you have to guard?” “I shall move with great caution, sir. And you will remember that I shall have a man with me whose superior for this kind of work cannot be found. I mean Roderic Douglas.” The chieftain bowed in gracious acknowledgment, and after arranging a few minor items, our hero withdrew. “Harry!—Douglas!” cried Seaton, as he re-entered his hut, “give me joy!—Ah, my Roderic, God is always helping Washington to answer his own prayer! We are to have two hundred head of cattle in camp within two days.” “How?” exclaimed Lee. “Are you sure?” “I am sure that I am commissioned to get them; and, with Roderic’s help, I think you know what that must mean.” Seaton then explained, after which he summoned his orderly-sergeant and directed him to have the full troop in readiness for moving at daybreak. “And now,” he said, turning to Lee, after the subject of his raid was fully understood, “you said you had something else to give me. What is it?” “Seaton—and you, Douglas—you will hold this a secret which I now tell to you ?” They both promised. “And, Robert,” he pursued, “you will ask me no questions. I have been to-day on duty outside the lines on the opposite bank of the Schuylkill, and I have received, by private hands, a packet from friends in Philadelphia. Under cover with my missives came this for you, with the request that I w’ould deliver it into your hands, which I now do.” Seaton took the letter, and by the light of the fire he could see that the superscription was in the hand of Patience Angell. Having thanked his friend as well as his startled emotions would let him, he got his candle, and went, to the fire and lighted it. When he turned he found himself alone. Lee and Douglas had quietly slipped away. % He sat down to the rough table, and having drawn the candle to his elbow’, he broke the seal of the packet. It was a letter from Patience, enclosing two other letters. He read that of the housekeeper first. It was dated, “Philadelphia, Jan. 10, 1778,” and. had been a little over a week on its way. First, the writer gave a detailed account of her management of household affairs. Mr. Morris had gone beyond the Susquehanna with Congress, but had left her all the money she needed. She concluded as follows:

“I send you two letters enclosed. 1 was with Mrs. Eastcourt when she wrote. She died on the next day. I have not forgotten my promise. I will look to Lillian as best I can; but she is a brave girl, and will be most likely to help herself. Ido not see danger yet in any definite form. Should the need come, I will help her to flee if I can. Your friend and servant, PATIENCE ANGELL.” Mrs. Eastcourt’s note was but a faint, tremulods scrawl, written with a pencil and some time anterior to the date of Patience’s letter: “Robert Seaton —O, my son, I am dying! Do not forget your promise. Remember it as you would remember a promise to the dying. All that I ever said to you I say •ver and over again. There is need that you should care for Lillian. O! there is need. Once more—remember your promise. “MARIAN E.” Lillian’s letter, stained with tears, was in substance as follows: “My Dearest of Earth: My Robert—l know not how to write. O! if I conld see you, and hear your dear voice! My mother is dead! To what am I left while you are distant from me? Alas! I will not think. I will not borrow fears for distressing you. It 1 could submit to my

father’s entreaties I should be miserable; but I will hold out to the end. If the worst comes, I shall flee. Our good Patience will help me. The necessity may not be far There is an English earl here whom my father wishes to force upon me. But do not fear. •• * I shall know better what is before me when the first shadow of the funeral is lifted from our house. O, my darling! I know you cannot come to me; bnt may I not come to you? People would not think it wrong if they knew. • • • “LILLIAN.” Robert folded up the letters, and put the minto his pocket. What could he do? He could only wait, and pray, and hope. There was more food for harassing thought; but if Lillian cotild be brave, why could not he? But —this English earl! From all the rest this figure was singled out as the object to be dreaded and feared. Half an hour later the young commander went out and satisfied himself that his troop would be ready at break of day for moving. “An English earl!” he muttered to himself, after he had laid his head upon his straw pillow. “I wish he would come in my way on the morrow!” It tfas only a shadow; but in it Robert Seaton saw his evil genius. (To be continued.) Copyright.