CHAPTER XVI
IN WHICH EZRA LISTENS TO A DARING PLAN, AND HOW THREE SPIES LISTENTO IT LIKEWISE
From the time that Washington reached New York, his progress towardCambridge was a constant ovation. In all the towns he passed through hewas received by committees of citizens. Addresses of welcome and praisewere read to him, cannon were fired in his honor, and escorts met himand saw him on his way.
While he was no doubt gratified by all these signs of favor andindications of the people's confidence, the general's most earnestdesire was to reach his destination and assume the command entrusted tohim. At Springfield a committee of the Massachusetts Provincial Congressmet him; a cavalcade of mounted citizens and troops escorted him intoCambridge on the second of July.
It was about two o'clock in the afternoon when the commander-in-chiefentered the town. The streets were thronged with people; cheers met himupon every hand; people filled windows, sheds and roof tops to do himhonor. The various colonial flags fluttered wildly; guns roared and thetroops saluted their leader with critical satisfaction.
The next day General Washington assumed command of the army in due form.He at once rode about its posts and carefully examined the position ofthe enemy. Ezra, Nat and Gilbert Scarlett rode with the party thataccompanied him, he having selected the two former as his messengers andthe latter accompanying them because of his curiosity regarding the newleader.
"He looks," Scarlett told Ezra, "like a man of unmistakable parts.Colonel Prescott, last night, was good enough to sketch his life andmilitary acts for me, and I was much struck. At Braddock's defeat heplayed the part, not only of a man, but of a most excellent officer."
Slowly Washington reconnoitered the British lines. He found Howestrongly entrenching on Bunker Hill, advanced about half a mile from thelate battle-field, with his sentries extending fully one hundred andfifty yards upon the Cambridge side of the Neck. Three floatingbatteries lay in the Mystic River, and a twenty-gun ship was at anchorbelow the ferry. On Roxbury Neck they were also strongly fortified. Thebulk of the British army lay upon Bunker Hill; only a few light horsewere at this time left in Boston.
Not a point of all this seemed to escape the observing eye of theVirginian; his comments and directions were listened to by Scarlett withclose attention and deepening appreciation.
The American position had grown stronger since the Bunker Hill fight.
Entrenchments had been thrown up on Prospect and Winter Hills. Fromthese the British camp was plainly in view at little more than a mileaway. There was a strong work at Sewall's Farm, which, afterward,Washington made stronger still. At Roxbury, General Thomas had thrown upa powerful fortification. The New Hampshire troops and a regiment ofRhode Island men held Winter Hill. General Putnam was in command atProspect Hill with the greater part of his Connecticut regiments. Thetroops at Cambridge were all of Massachusetts Bay; and the bulk ofGreene's Rhode Islanders held Sewall's Farm. Two other regiments ofPutnam's men and nine regiments of Massachusetts were stationed atRoxbury. Then there were some seven hundred men scattered along thecoast to prevent descents of the enemy.
In spite of all that had been done by earnest and competent men, it wasscarcely an army which Washington took command of that July day. It was,rather, a gathering of armed men, for there was not much organization.
"The men are rugged, faithful and brave," said Ezra Prentiss to hisfriends that night as they sat at an inn called "The Honest Farmer" onthe outskirts of Cambridge, toward Stark and Putnam's entrenchments."But they are also independent and impatient of restraint."
"They elect to follow their own officers and obey no others," said NatBrewster. "And if they are not pleased with what is going forward, wholeregiments feel themselves perfectly at liberty to withdraw, wait untiltheir views are agreed to, or return to their homes."
"General Washington will see to all that," spoke Scarlett, with a nod ofthe head. "I have been giving him some attention to-day and I haveperceived that he is not only a man who desires order, but one who hasthe will to achieve his desires. From this day on things will godifferently; men will obey when an order is given them; if they do not,they will find that an accounting is to be made, not to an officer whois a friend and neighbor, but to one who has only the welfare of thecolonies at heart."
Ben Cooper laughed.
"The new general has been approved by you, then?" said he.
Scarlett twisted the points of his moustache.
"I am like to serve him before very long," returned he, soberly. "For,under him, this promises to become a very pretty war, indeed."
"The Honest Farmer" was a large place once frequented by farmers drivinginto Boston with their loads of produce. As it was cleanly kept, even inthese lax and unprofitable days, it had become a favorite place ofresort for young officers and citizens who liked to drop in and discussthe progress of events with them.
Upon the evening in question there was quite a throng gathered in thepublic room and the sound of voices filled it. Upon a bench opposite theboys sat a portly old fellow with a full, red face and a downrightmanner of speaking. A mild, thin-faced man sat beside him, and as theytalked the lads could not help but overhear.
"It is all very well for a parcel of men such as Adams and Hancock andtheir agitating like, to sit safely away in Philadelphia, and send us astranger to take charge of us," grumbled the portly man, in hisdownright way.
"But, surely," remonstrated the thin-faced man, "you would not callGeneral Washington a stranger."
"He is a stranger to me, sir," spoke the portly one, in an injured tone."And he is from the South. Why could we not have had one of our ownpeople? Answer me that!"
But the thin-faced man shook his head.
"Congress should know what it is about," said he. "It must know that thegeneral is fitted for his work, or it would not have sent him."
"What work?" blustered the portly man, and his voice was loud anddomineering. "What work, I ask you, sir?"
But the thin man again shook his head and looked blank.
"The work to be done is to drive the British out of Boston," stated thered-faced man with the portly figure. "To drive them out of Boston sothat we can go back and resume our trades and occupations. That's whathe's sent to do. But," and he challenged the room with both voice andeye, "how is he going to do it?"
"Faith," laughed a gray-haired major, who stood near, "he has himthere."
But the thin-faced man unexpectedly had an answer.
"He will attack them," he declared valiantly. "He will attack them assoon as possible."
The portly man snorted his disgust.
"Attack them," he repeated scornfully. "But plague on it, sir, what willhe attack them with? I am no military man, but I know that he can't moveon them with his bare hands. To attack successfully," and the stout palmof the speaker struck the bench with a resounding whack, "he must haveartillery--heavy artillery."
The thin-faced man had no reply to make to this. But the gray-hairedmajor spoke in his stead.
"You may be no military man, as you say, sir," said he, "but you arequite right, for all. To reach Gage in his den we must have guns thatwill throw great weight a long distance."
The portly man's red face glistened with triumph.
"Sir," said he cordially, "it is a great satisfaction to speak to a manof understanding. You have the intelligence, apparently, to grasp asituation. And I ask you, sir, as a man of intelligence," impressively,"where those guns are to come from?"
It was the gray-haired major who now shook his head.
"You have a faculty of asking difficult questions, I perceive, sir,"laughed he. "And that is one which I must allow to pass me by."
More and more triumphant grew the gentleman with the red face.
"We haven't them," he declared loudly. "We haven't them. And, more thanthat, we cannot get them."
"Don't be too sure of that," said a quiet voice from a bench in acorner. "Don't be too sure of that, Mr. Trivitt. There are guns a-plentyto be had, if
they will but be sought after."
The portly Mr. Trivitt glanced toward the corner, and scorn filled hisred face.
"Huh!" he grunted. "Because you served in the militia, Harry Knox, andbecause you went tearing about on horseback at the Bunker Hill fight,don't think that you can teach me understanding. I was a man before youwere born, and I have the sense to see what is open to my eyes."
Harry Knox, as Mr. Trivitt called him, was a medium-sized young man,well built and with a strong, intelligent face. He laughed at theother's words, and replied:
"But it is possible, Mr. Trivitt, that all things do not come beneathyour eyes."
To one so self-important as the portly man this was little less than aninsult.
"It is a pity that you were forced by the war to give up the selling ofbooks," said he to Knox. "I have heard, though I've never read a book inmy life, that you were clever in your trade. But in the trade of asoldier you promise to be less excellent." He arose to his feet withgreat dignity. "However," he continued, "I never discuss matters ofimportance with youths. It is a waste of time and breath."
And with that the indignant Mr. Trivitt stuck his three-cornered hatupon his head and stumped out of "The Honest Farmer" much affronted.
Ezra caught the eye of Henry Knox and nodded to him. Young Prentiss hadinherited his father's love of books, and had many times purchasedvolumes from the youthful bookseller at his shop in Boston; indeed, inthe discussions that accompanied these transactions, quite an intimacyhad sprung up between them.
Knox arose and approached the boys cordially. He was but twenty-fivehimself at this time, and had many boyish traits still.
"I am glad to see you once more," said he to Ezra, as they shook hands."I noticed you and your friends, here," with a smile at the others, "asPrescott fell back from the hill on the day of the fight; but of coursethere was no time then for any exchanges, except with the enemy."
The others were made known to him; he sat down with them and began totalk over the coming of Washington and the things that were to beexpected of the new commander. At length, during a lull in theconversation, Gilbert Scarlett said:
"You did but jest with your fat friend, Mr. Trivitt, I suppose, withregard to the heavy guns."
But young Knox shook his head.
"No," said he, "I spoke seriously enough. If General Washington wantsheavier and more cannon than he already has, they are to be had for thejourneying after them."
Seeing the look of interest upon the faces of his listeners, hecontinued:
"It is a simple matter enough. We have all heard of the success ofColonel Ethan Allan and young Arnold at Ticonderoga and Crown Point.Both these strongholds have been captured from the British and both areprovided with heavy guns. A party, equipped with proper authority, couldbring these on to Cambridge with some little effort."
"I am not acquainted with the country between here and the capturedstrongholds," said Gilbert Scarlett, delightedly, for the idea seemed toappeal powerfully to his imagination, "but the project is one ofexceptional quality. I congratulate you, sir."
"Thank you," said Knox. "I am obliged to you. I have mentioned it toothers--General Ward, for example, and he fancied it impracticable."
"I have all respect for General Ward," answered Scarlett, "but you'llpardon me if I say that he's too conservative. You'd gain a friend toyour plan at once if you spoke to General Putnam or Stark, or one oftheir kind. A man must have a spice of daring to grasp opportunities."
After that night the boys saw a great deal of Henry Knox. Indeed, also,he gradually came to be a man of importance in the camp. For hisservices at Bunker Hill he was made a colonel; and a practical,enterprising officer he proved to be.
The days went on, and Washington labored with the force newly under hiscommand. Powder continued to be a scarce article in the camp. At no timewas there above nine rounds to a man, and with this slender supply, thegeneral had to maintain a constantly extending line of posts--postsalways exposed to the concentrated assaults of well-ordered veterans.But he clung grimly to the task; little by little his ideas began to beseen, order gradually arose out of confusion; his brigadiers grasped hisintentions readily, and so things began to shape themselves as he wantedthem.
More than twenty thousand able men were desired to carry outWashington's designs. There were only seventeen thousand enrolled; andof these less than fifteen thousand were fit for service. Recruiting wascarried on throughout New England. Eloquent speakers harangued villagecrowds, and their highly colored words drew the young men constantly tothe camp at Cambridge.
The environs of Boston at this time presented an animated sight.Fortifications were everywhere; men labored for the cause of libertywith mattock and spade; they drilled ceaselessly; whole towns, so itseemed, were given up to the military; white tents were pitched inorderly lines in the fields. Only a century before the two principalpasses into Boston--Charlestown Neck and Boston Neck--had been fortifiedto save the town from the Indians and so preserve American civilization.Now the hills that commanded these same passes were peopled with thedescendants of those who had formerly defended them and they werearrayed in the pride of war; their hands were raised against theoppressive government that should have fostered them, but which,instead, sought to crush them out.
While Washington was bringing order to his army and strengthening hisposition, he was also constantly seeking to confine the operations ofthe enemy and cut off their supply of provisions. Attacks were carefullyguarded against; parties in whale boats were afloat each night to watchthe waters; the American pickets grew as keen as night-birds, soaccustomed were they to search the darkness.
Sudden assaults, made by parties on both sides, marked the summer, andthe fighting on the islands continued. British transports arrived fromtime to time, filled with additional troops; now and then the King'sbatteries opened fire upon an American work which they fancied was beingpushed too far; on the sea, the Yankee privateers were increasing innumbers and in power; scarcely a week passed that the city did notreceive news of some daring deed of theirs.
Then finally the long expected party of Southern riflemen arrived. Thesehad enlisted at the first echo of the war and they had marched from fourto seven hundred miles in their anxiety to face their country's enemies.
They were bronzed, hardy looking men, dressed in hunting-shirts andcoonskin caps. They carried rifles, the length of which caused the boysto open their eyes.
"They look like marksmen," said Ezra Prentiss. "I have heard that thebackwoodsmen in their colony are very expert with the rifle."
As though to prove this, a party of the Southerners passed in reviewbefore the commanders shortly after they reached the camp. Whileadvancing quickly, and at a distance of two hundred and fifty yards,they fired at a target seven inches in diameter. And each bullet foundthe mark!
Washington at once ordered these riflemen stationed at the outposts.Here they made themselves terrible to the British, and day by day thisterror increased. Whatever they fired at they hit; and soon the King'soutposts dreaded to move except under cover. Rumors of the remarkableshooting of these men reached even so far as England; and one of them,who was made prisoner, was taken there. The newspapers described himwith great minuteness; and the British public swarmed to see him and themotto "Liberty or Death" which he wore upon the breast of hishunting-shirt in common with his fellows.
Several times Washington tried to force the hand of Gage, as in hisoccupation of Ploughed Hill. But the British refused to accept thechallenge. They bombarded the position, to be sure, and kept it up forthe greater part of two weeks, but finally the firing ceased. Duringthis summer, also, the celebrated Liberty Tree in Boston was attacked bythe furious Tories and ruthlessly cut down.
October had arrived and the coming frost was felt in the night air. Andas the chill grew deeper, the public room of "The Honest Farmer" grewmore and more a place of resort for citizens and officers. One night thefour boys had gathered there in company with Gilbert Scarlett. They satbe
fore a slow fire of green wood, which served very well to take thediscomfort out of the air, and were talking together upon topics of thetime and listening to the sayings of those about them.
It seemed that "The Honest Farmer," besides being a very pleasant inn,was a great place for grumblers. And just now some citizens, gatheredabout an oaken table, saw fit to criticize General Washington for whatthey called his inaction.
"What can he mean?" demanded one. "If the British will not come out tohim, he should go in to them. This state of affairs, at the presentrate, will continue on forever."
"He was sent here to drive them out. Let him show that he is competentby at least attempting to do so," grumbled another.
Thus they went on; each had his say in the matter and each said itchurlishly and discontentedly.
"To be a military commander," spoke Gilbert Scarlett to the boys, hisbooted legs stretched out to the fire, "is not to lie upon a bed ofroses. Here we have a party of gentlemen who will speak their minds upona subject upon which they have no information. They would have GeneralWashington charge upon a strong position without powder enough to wakeGeneral Gage from his sleep. Apparently they possess rare enterprise,but their discretion is small, indeed."
While he spoke Colonel Knox entered the room; after greeting somefriends he made his way directly to where the boys were sitting. He wasdressed in the blue uniform faced with white which had grown so familiarin those early days of the war; his face was bronzed through exposure tothe weather, and his eyes were bright and full of a newly kindledeagerness.
He shook hands with the lads; that he was a colonel and they butenlisted men made no difference in that democratic time. And after hehad greeted Scarlett, who made room for him at the fire, the youngcolonel sat down.
"Have you noticed a tinge of frost in the air?" asked he, as he rubbedhis hands briskly. "It will be a hard, cold winter, I think, when it isonce upon us. It is always so when there is so early a beginning."
"It was midsummer when we saw you here last," said Ezra. "You rememberthe night that you told us about the guns at Crown Point andTiconderoga."
The boy's words were followed by a curious interruption. A mug, partlyfilled, shattered upon the brick paved floor near by; they turnedsurprised and saw a man, apparently advanced in years, bent over atable, his back turned to them. The hand that had held the mug hung athis side, trembling as though with palsy; his whole attitude was as ofone stricken with some sudden shock.
Two others sat with the man; they wore the dress of seafarers, and whileone was of commanding proportions, the other was small. The heads ofboth were bent toward the old man; and the boys could see little of themexcept that they were dark and wore their sailcloth hats pulled low overtheir foreheads.
After a glance the other lads gave their attention once more to ColonelKnox. But Ezra continued to watch narrowly the actions of the three. Asthe boys had come along in the dusk toward "The Honest Farmer" he hadnoticed some figures that seemed to cling to their shadows. He had,also, a dim sort of consciousness that these same figures had enteredthe inn after them. And now something whispered to him that these werethe same--that the men had a purpose in being where they were--that theirselection of seats so near to his friends and himself was no accident.
"And," he told himself in a puzzled sort of way, "they seem familiar. Isomehow feel that I have met with them before."
He examined the strangers narrowly; in a few moments the old manrecovered and seemed to be talking guardedly to his companions; and theboy, more than once, caught a ferret-like look from the smaller of thetwo seamen that impressed him queerly. More and more he felt that thesewere persons whom he had known before.
But while he was watching the strangers, he was also listening to theremarks of his friends as they spoke to Colonel Knox. Some little timepassed; then the colonel said, addressing them all:
"I came here to-night in the hope of seeing you. It just happens thatthere is something toward that makes me require the help of a few youngspirits who will not hesitate at a little risk."
"We feel flattered," said Nat Brewster, with a smile, "that you shouldthink of us."
Ben Cooper bent forward.
"It has something to do with the big guns at Ticonderoga," said he.
Colonel Knox laughed.
"You are a clever guesser, Master Cooper," said he.
"It was no guess," replied Ben. "I've known all along that you'd notgive up that idea of yours. I knew that if you'd get permission, you'dbe off to the captured forts at once and try to carry it out."
Ezra, watching the three strangers, fancied them rigid with attention,but at the same time making a show of keeping up a conversation of theirown. Once he was about calling his friends' attention to this, but thefear that it might, after all, be but imagination upon his part,deterred him.
"You are right," said the young colonel. "The notion was a pet of minebecause I thought it practical and likely to succeed. But I've had greatdifficulty in convincing others. When they thought of the vastwilderness to be crossed, the lakes and streams, they scouted the plan.It could not be done, they said; those great cannon could never bedragged so tremendous a distance through such a country.
"But at length I got the ear of the commander-in-chief. I flatteredmyself that he thought me no fool; for he has a way of looking at onethat tells its own story.
"'Heavy ordnance is badly needed,' he said, 'and this would be welcome,indeed, if we could but secure it!' Then he fixed me with one of hislooks and asked: 'How would you go about getting it here?'
"'I would start in the early fall,' I said. 'On the way I would collectsledges. By the time I reached Ticonderoga, transacted my business andwas ready to return, the lakes would be frozen over. I could load theguns upon the sledges and so cross the ice. And so it will be throughthe wilderness. Lack of roads will not affect me; the snow will be thereand the traveling will be as smooth as it can well be.'
"He seemed much struck with this idea and took it under consideration.And now he has given his consent."
"And you are going!" cried George Prentiss, eagerly.
"As soon as I can collect the small party that is to accompany me."
"And that's why you sought us out!" exclaimed Nat, his face glowing inthe firelight. "Good! Shall we go, lads?" turning to the others.
A chorus arose that caused the other frequenters of "The Honest Farmer"to turn about in mild surprise.
"You could not have done us a greater kindness," said Ezra Prentiss toColonel Knox. "The work of the camp is, of course, willingly undertakenby us all; but this is the sort of service that we most like."
"If you are pleased to go," returned the young colonel, "why, for thematter of that, I am equally pleased to have you. I have heard thestories of your doings since this war began; and of the services yourendered even before it started. They've long been abroad in the camp,as have the words uttered in your praise by Colonel Prescott, Mr. Adams,General Putnam and even Washington himself."
As the lads chorused their low-voiced agreement to ride with ColonelKnox upon this mission which promised so much, Gilbert Scarlett drew hissword belt tighter and leaned forward toward that officer.
"Sir," spoke he, "if you could contrive to make room for a volunteer inyour company, I should be most pleased to make this venture under yourleadership. It is true," and he waved his hand in a gesture ofdepreciation, "that I am not of this country and am rather a stranger toyou all. But," here he reared his head proudly, "I have had some smallexperience in onfalls, ambuscades, sieges and other forms of warfare, invarious parts of the world. So it is possible that I might be of serviceto you."
"Mr. Scarlett," said Colonel Knox, promptly, "I have heard of you. Iaccept your offer and am delighted to have you."
They talked for some little time upon the matter; then the young colonelarose.
"Just when I shall start," said he, "is a matter of doubt; but it willnot be until I can be sure of the ice and snow, which will act suchimportant pa
rts in my plan. However, when we do start," and he said thiswith quiet confidence, "we will make all speed and it will not be longthereafter until the King's guns will be turned upon his governor. Andthen Boston shall be ours!"
The boys and Scarlett accompanied him to the door and out into thenight. Here the colonel began saying something that seemed to interestthem; and all but Ezra walked along with him toward his quarters.
Ezra, as he gave a quick look over his shoulder in the doorway, saw thethree men at the inn table arise. He closed the door; and as his friendswalked slowly away with Colonel Knox, he stepped back into the shadowand waited.
It was the smaller of the two sailor-like men who opened the door of"The Honest Farmer." His thin face went this way and that, apparently inquest of those who had just left. As he caught the cautious questioningway the man had of holding his head, Ezra gasped in astonishment.
"It's Jason Collyer!" he muttered.
Collyer's two friends appeared directly behind him. As he saw him inmotion, Ezra had no difficulty in recognizing the larger of these.
"It's Abdallah," he told himself. "There is no mistaking that measuredstep."
"They have gone in that direction," said Collyer, pointing down the darkstreet. "Shall we follow them?"
"There is no need," spoke Abdallah, and his voice was as smooth as ever."We have learned all that they can tell."
"It was luck that made you want to follow them here when you saw them onthe way," said Collyer to the old man. "I confess, sir, I thought it buta waste of time, myself."
The door of "The Honest Farmer" was now closed; but from a window abroad beam of light streamed out upon the stones. The men stood upon themargin of this and could be plainly seen as they faced away from Ezra,their eyes trying to follow Colonel Knox and the boys.
"Fortune," said Abdallah, "is a queer thing. Sometimes it smiles uponus; and at others, it frowns. And all for no reason that we can see.Take that last night at my house for example. Everything had gone well,when suddenly that boy"--and he pointed down the dark street, "rode upand changed everything by his shrewdness."
Here the old man gestured angrily and was about to speak. But Abdallahstopped him.
"It is no time for faultfinding or resentment," said he, gently. "Ratherit is one for self-congratulation. He beat us then, but we will beat himnow. When they ride to Ticonderoga for the guns, they will have theirlabor for their pains. We," and he laughed softly, "will have been thereahead of them."
"Don't be so sure of that," said Ezra Prentiss, quietly.
He took a step forward as he spoke. The men whirled about withexclamations and stood staring at him as the light from the window fellupon his face. At the same time a steady tramp of feet was heard; theflash of lanthorns came up and down the street. Patrols of continentalswere coming from both directions.
"It is always best to make sure of what you say before you say it,"resumed the boy. "When we reach Ticonderoga, the guns will still bethere; but you will be here, awaiting the judgment of a drumhead court,as spies."
A gasp of dismay went up from the ferret-like Collyer; but Abdallah heldup a hand for silence. He addressed Ezra.
"Spies?" said he, gently. "That would be a rough-hewn fate indeed. Thinkwhat is meted out to such offenders."
"It is death," said Ezra, solemnly.
"And would you deliver us up to that?"
"It is not for me to pass judgment," answered the lad. "I leave that formy superiors."
"But," and there was a curious note in Abdallah's voice that caught theboy's attention, "you shall decide, for all! And your decision will bein our favor."
"You shall see in a moment," spoke Ezra Prentiss, gravely. "Here comesthe American patrol. What is to hinder my giving you up to them?"
"This," said Abdallah.
As he spoke he thrust the old man, who bore him company, forwardsuddenly. For the first time, Ezra saw this latter plainly.
"Grandfather," he cried chokingly.
The old merchant lifted a hand as though about to denounce the lad; butAbdallah drew him back with a fierce whispered word of warning.
"If we are spies," then said Abdallah to Ezra, "so is your grandfather.If you give us up to those men," and his eyes went toward the patrols,who were now abreast of them, "you must also give him up. And remember,"all the gentleness out of his voice and manner, "to give him up meansdeath!"
He paused a moment and then said with a low laugh:
"Speak up; what shall it be? Shall we go or stay?"
And Ezra, his heart frozen with fear, stared first at the patrols andthen at his grandfather. Then both hands went up and he gestured themstupidly away.
Instantly they turned and obeyed; within a moment the night hadswallowed them up; but still the boy stood there as one turned to stone.
"To save my grandfather's life, I have made myself a traitor to thecause," he whispered to himself. "But I could not help it," a sobswelling in his throat, "I could not help it."