CHAPTER XXIV.
DEATH OF THE SPY.--A REVELATION.
It was thirty-three years after the interview which we have justrelated that an American army was once more arrayed against the troopsof England; but the scene was transferred from the banks of the Hudsonto those of the Niagara.[135]
[Footnote 135: name of river and falls between New York and Canada.]
It was the evening of the 25th of July of that bloody year, when twoyoung officers were seen standing on the table-rock, contemplating thegreat cataract with an interest that seemed to betray that they weregazing for the first time at the wonder of the western world. Aprofound silence was observed by each, until the companion of theofficer suddenly started, and pointing eagerly with his sword into theabyss[136] beneath, exclaimed:
[Footnote 136: bottomless depth.]
"See, Wharton, there is a man crossing in the very eddies of thecataract, and in a skiff no bigger than an egg-shell."
"He has a knapsack--it is probably a soldier," returned the other."Let us meet him at the ladder, Mason, and learn his tidings."
Some time was expended in reaching the spot where the adventurer wasintercepted. Contrary to the expectations of the young soldiers, heproved to be a man far advanced in life, and evidently no follower ofthe camp.
A few words of salutation, and, on the part of the young men, ofsurprise that one so aged should venture so near the whirlpools of thecataract, were exchanged, when the old man inquired, with a voice thatbegan to manifest the tremor of age, the news from the contendingarmies.
"We whipped the red-coats here the other day, among the grass on theChippewa[137] plains," said the one who was called Mason.
[Footnote 137: a village in Canada, twenty-one miles northwest of Buffalo.]
"Perhaps you have a son among the soldiers," said his companion, witha milder demeanor,[138] and an air of kindness; "if so, tell me hisname and regiment, and I will take you to him."
[Footnote 138: manner.]
The old man shook his head, and answered:
"No; I am alone in the world!"
"You should have added, Captain Dunwoodie," cried his carelesscomrade, "if you could find either; for nearly half our army hasmarched down the road, and may be, by this time, under the walls ofFort George,[139] for anything that we know to the contrary."
[Footnote 139: a fort on the Canada side of the Niagara River, where it flows into Lake Ontario.]
The old man stopped suddenly, and looked earnestly from one of hiscompanions to the other; the action being observed by the soldiers,they paused also.
"Did I hear right?" the stranger uttered, raising his hand to screenhis eyes from the rays of the setting sun. "What did he call you?"
"My name is Wharton Dunwoodie," replied the youth, smiling.
The stranger motioned silently for him to remove his hat, which theyouth did accordingly, and his fair hair blew aside like curls ofsilk, and opened the whole of his ingenuous countenance to theinspection of the other.
"'Tis like our native land!" exclaimed the old man with vehemence;"improving with time. God has blessed both."
"Why do you stare thus, Lieutenant Mason?" cried Captain Dunwoodie,laughing a little; "you show more astonishment than when you saw thefalls."
"Oh, the falls! they are a thing to be looked at on a moon-shinynight, by your aunt Sarah and that gay old bachelor, ColonelSingleton."
"Come, come, Tom, no jokes about my good aunt, I beg; she is kindnessitself; and I have heard it whispered that her youth was notaltogether happy."
"Why, as to rumor," said Mason, "there goes one in Accomac, thatColonel Singleton offers himself to her regularly every Valentine'sDay; and there are some who add that your old great-aunt helps hissuit."
"Aunt Jeanette!" said Dunwoodie, laughing; "dear, good soul, shethinks but little of marriage in any shape, I believe, since the deathof Dr. Sitgreaves."
"The last time I was at General Dunwoodie's plantation, that yellow,sharp-nosed housekeeper of your mother's took me into the pantry, andsaid that the colonel was no despicable match, as she called it."
"Quite likely," returned the captain; "Katy Haynes is no badcalculator."
The old man listened to each word as it was uttered, with the mostintense interest; but, toward the conclusion of the dialogue, theearnest attention of his countenance changed to a kind of inwardsmile. Mason paid but little attention to the expression of hisfeatures, and continued:
"To me she is selfishness embodied."
"Her selfishness does but little harm," returned Dunwoodie. "One ofher greatest difficulties is her aversion to the blacks. She says thatshe never saw but one that she liked."
"And who was he?"
"His name was Caesar; he was a house-servant of my late grandfatherWharton. My mother always speaks of him with great affection. BothCaesar and Katy came to Virginia with my mother when she married. Mymother was----"
"An angel!" interrupted the old man, in a voice that startled theyoung soldiers by its abruptness and energy.
"Did you know her?" cried the son, with a glow of pleasure on hischeek.
The reply of the stranger was interrupted by sudden and heavyexplosions of artillery, which were immediately followed by continuedvolleys of small-arms, and in a few minutes the air was filled withthe tumult of a warm and well-contested battle.
Everything in the American camp announced an approaching struggle. Thetroops were in motion, and a movement made to support the division ofthe army which was already engaged. Night had set in before thereserve and irregulars reached the foot of Lundy's Lane,[140] a roadthat diverged from the river and crossed a conical eminence at nogreat distance from the Niagara highway. The summit of the hill wascrowned with the cannon of the British, and in the flat beneath wasthe remnant of Scott's[141] gallant brigade, which for a long timehad held an unequal contest with distinguished bravery. A new line wasinterposed, and one column of the Americans directed to charge thehill, parallel to the road. This column took the English in flank, andbayoneting their artillerists, gained possession of the cannon. Theywere immediately joined by their comrades, and the enemy was sweptfrom the hill.
[Footnote 140: a road leading west from Niagara River, near Niagara Falls.]
[Footnote 141: General Winfield Scott, commander of the American forces.]
But large reenforcements were joining the English general momentarily,and their troops were too brave to rest easy under defeat. Repeatedand bloody charges were made to recover the guns, but in all they wererepulsed with slaughter. During the last of these struggles, the ardorof the youthful captain whom we have mentioned urged him to lead hismen some distance in advance, to scatter a daring party of the enemy.He succeeded, but in returning to the line missed his lieutenant fromthe station that he ought to have occupied. Soon after this repulse,which was the last, orders were given to the shattered troops toreturn to the camp. The British were nowhere to be seen, andpreparations were made to take in such of the wounded as could bemoved.
At this moment Wharton Dunwoodie, impelled by affection for hisfriend, seized a lighted fusee,[142] and taking two of his men, wenthimself in quest of his body, where he was supposed to have fallen.
[Footnote 142: torch.]
Mason was found on the side of the hill, seated with great composure,but unable to walk from a fractured leg. Dunwoodie saw and flew to theside of his comrade, exclaiming:
"Ah! dear Tom, I knew I should find you the nearest man to the enemy."
"Softly, softly; handle me tenderly," replied the lieutenant. "No;there is a brave fellow still nearer than myself, and who he can be Iknow not. He rushed out of our smoke, near my platoon, to make aprisoner or some such thing, but, poor fellow, he never came back;there he lies just over the hillock. I have spoken to him severaltimes, but I fancy he is past answering."
Dunwoodie went to the spot, and to his astonishment beheld thestranger.
"It is the old man who
knew my father and mother," cried the youth;"for their sake he shall have honorable burial. Lift him, and let himbe carried in; his bones shall rest on native soil."
The men approached to obey. He was lying on his back, with his faceexposed to the glaring light of the fusee; his eyes were closed, as ifin slumber; his lips, sunken with years, were slightly moved fromtheir position, but it seemed more like a smile than a convulsionwhich had caused the change. A soldier's musket lay near him; hishands were pressed upon his breast, and one of them contained asubstance that glittered like silver. Dunwoodie stooped, and movingthe limbs, perceived the place where the bullet had found a passage tohis heart. The subject of his last care was a tin box, through whichthe fatal lead had gone; and the dying moments of the old man musthave been passed in drawing it from his bosom. Dunwoodie opened it,and found a paper in which, to his astonishment, he read thefollowing:
"Circumstances of political importance, which involve the lives and fortunes of many, have hitherto kept secret what this paper now reveals. Harvey Birch has for years been a faithful and unrequited[143] servant of his country. Though man does not, may God reward him for his conduct!
"GEO. WASHINGTON."
[Footnote 143: unrewarded.]
It was the SPY OF THE NEUTRAL GROUND, who died as he had lived,devoted to his country, and a martyr to her liberties.