Part 11

"It was a bloody time," remarked Smith.

"God grant that we may never see its like again," added Morton.

"Up this way," said Wilson, "the tories were quite peaceable and respectable; and some of them were badly treated without any reason for it. They were honest men, and differed in opinion with those who judged the Declaration of Independence and the assumption of arms, necessary measures."

"Yes," replied Higgins; "its all very well for men to differ in opinion--nobody finds fault with that; its taking up arms against their own countrymen, and opposing their country's cause, that we grumble at. We should all adopt Commodore Decatur's motto; 'Our country--right or wrong.' If she be right, our support cannot be refused; if wrong, we should endeavor to set her right, and not, by refusing our support, or by taking up arms against her, see her fall."

"Bravo!" cried Mr. Jackson Harmar. "There's the true patriotic sentiment for you. Allow me, Mr. Higgins, to shake hands with you over that sentiment."

The veteran patriot extended his hand, and received the hearty shake of the patriot of another generation.

STORY OF GENERAL WAYNE

"Grandfather," said Thomas Jefferson Harmar, "wont you tell us something about Mad Anthony Wayne?"

"Who learnt you to call him Mad Anthony Wayne?" inquired Higgins.

"That's what grandfather calls him," replied the boy.

"Yes," said old Harmar; "we always called him Mad Anthony--he was such a dare-devil. I don't believe, if that man, when alone, had been surrounded by foes, they could really have made him afraid."

"He was a bold and skilful general," remarked Morton. "He was equal to Arnold in those qualities, and superior to him in all others."

"I think I can see him now, at Morristown, in the midst of the mutineers, with his cocked pistol in his hand, attempting to enforce orders--an action that no other man would have thought of doing under such circumstances." "He did his duty," said Wilson; "but the men cannot be censured for their conduct. They had received no pay for many months, were without sufficient clothing to protect them from the weather, and sometimes without food. If they had not been fighting for freedom and their country's rights, they never could have stood it out."

"One of the best things Wayne ever did," said Smith, "was that manoeuvre of his in Virginia, where the British thought they had him surely in a net."

"What manoeuvre was that?" inquired Mr. Jackson Harmar.

"Why, you see, General Lafayette was endeavoring to avoid a general action with Cornwallis, and yet to harass him. Early in July, 1781, the British army marched from Williamsburg, and encamped on the banks of the James River, so as to cover a ford leading to the island of Jamestown. Soon after, the baggage and some of the troops passed the ford, but the main army kept its ground. Lafayette then moved from his encampment, crossed the Chichahominy, pushed his light troops near the British position, and advanced with the continentals to make an attempt on the British rear, after the main body had passed the river. The next day, the Marquis was told that the main body of the British had crossed the ford, and that a rear-guard only remained behind. This was what the British general wanted him to believe, and he posted his troops ready to receive our men. Well, General Wayne, with eight hundred men, chiefly of the Pennsylvania line, (including Mr. Harmar, Mr. Higgins, Mr. Wilson, and myself,) was ordered to advance against the enemy. Now, Wayne thought he had to fight a rear-guard only, and so he moved forward boldly and rapidly; but, in a short time, he found himself directly in front of the whole British army, drawn up to receive him. Retreat was impracticable, as the enemy then might have had a fair chance to kill or capture the whole detachment. Wayne thought that the best plan was to put on a bold face, and so he commenced the attack at once. A fierce and bloody struggle followed, and I'm not sure but we were gaining the advantage, when General Lafayette discovered the mistake and ordered a retreat, and we were compelled to fall back, leaving two cannon in the hands of the enemy. By General Wayne's presence of mind and courage, you see, we got off with but the loss of one hundred men. The British lost the same number."

"The Marquis was, of course, right in ordering a retreat," remarked young Harmar.

"I suppose so," replied Smith. "Our detachment might have made considerable havoc among the British, and, perhaps, if promptly supported, have maintained a long and doubtful battle. But General Lafayette wanted to save his men until a more certain contest could be brought about. He was a very young general--younger than Napoleon when he took command of the army of Italy; but all his movements about that time indicated that he was as skilful and vigilant as he was brave."

"Americans should ever be grateful to the memory of such a man as Lafayette," said old Harmar. "He was a true lover of liberty, and a staunch friend to this land when it most needed friends."

"And that reminds me," added young Harmar, "that I've a song here, which I wrote for one of the papers, in relation to Lafayette. It is arranged in the measure of the feeling melody of 'Auld Lang Syne.'"

"Sing it," said Mr. Smith; and the request was echoed by the rest. Mr. Jackson Harmar, therefore, after sundry excuses in the usual routine--that he had a cold, &c.--sang the following words in a very emphatic manner, with an occasional break in the high notes, and huskiness in the low ones.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot And never brought to mind? The friend that's true, remember'd not, And days of auld lang syne? For auld lang syne, my dear, We never can forget; When dangers press'd, and foes drew near, Our friend was Lafayette.

When first our fathers bravely drew 'Gainst tyrants and their laws, On wings of generous zeal he flew To aid the holy cause. For auld lang syne, my dear, &c.

He stemm'd the broad Atlantic wave; He vow'd they should be free; He led the bravest of the brave To death or victory. For auld lang syne, my dear, &c. Let Brandywine his glory tell, And Monmouth loud proclaim; Let York in triumph proudly swell The measure of his fame. For auld lang syne, my dear, &c.

Shall sons of freedom e'er forget, Till time shall cease to move, The debt they owe to Lafayette Of gratitude and love? For auld lang syne, my dear, &c.

The song was listened to with considerable pleasure by the company, and there was an occasional attempt, on the part of the veterans, to join in the chorus, which, however, ended in a slight cough and shaking of the head, as if the attempt was hopeless.

"There's good sentiment in that song," remarked Smith. "It stirs the heart."

"Mr. Harmar, did you say the piece was your own composition?" inquired Morton.