IJ CiZ~~~~~~~- d" ~ ~ -:-,.,,2 z~~~ HELEN AND WASHINGTON. [See Page 277.1 PEMBERTON; OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. BY HENRY PETERSON, Author of" The Modern Job," &c. " There comes a voice that awakes my soul. It is the voice of years that are gone, they roll before me with their deeds." OSSIAN. PHILADELPHIA. J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 1873. Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1872, BY HENRY PETERSON, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. CONTENTS. PART I. CHAPTER. I. The Surprise II. Moll of the Hatchet III. The Battle in the Mist IV. Captain Andr. V. A Woman's Will VI. The Wissahickon VII. The Deserters. VIII. Phil. Morris IX. The Dream of Andre X. The Fortune-Teller. XI. The Quaker Preacher XII. Pro and Con XIII. Plots and Counterplots XIV. Parting PAGE. 7 ~..~ 7 25 * 31 ~.. 46 46 74. 82.. 86.98 I14 130.. I4 * 55 iii iv CONTENTS. CHAPTER. XV. A Daring Raid XVI. Hail to the Chief XVII. The Mischianza XVIII. An Uninvited Guest PART II. I. Arnold the Hero II. A Charm III. The Mob IV. The Spy.. V. Helen and Arnold VI. Captain Fanny Again VII. Arnold the Traitor. VIII. A New Scheme IX. Shall I do It. X. The Ball XI. Running the Gauntlet XII. Planning Treason PAGE. 60 i66 * I7I 176.0 I76 I95 208.. 208 211 217 228 236 245.*. 251 256.264 281. 289 I. II. III. IV. PART III. A Change of Scene The Midnight Conference The Price of Treason A Perilous Journey. * 295 304 315 319 CHAPTER. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII. CONTENTS. For the Third Time On the Way The Arrest of Andre Breaking the News Pemberton and Washington Crushed by the Blow Pemberton and Andre Captain Fanny's Plan The Death of Andre v PAGE. 324 327 * 332 *344 * 35~ * 357 * 362 * 372 *376 PART IV. Five Years After. Conclusion. * 381.. 389 PEMBERTON. PART I. CHAPTER I. THE SURPRISE. Oh, peaceful earth-oh, patient, green-browed earthSad mother of the whirlwind and the storm. IT is a morning in October, in the year 1777. Early morning-for the sun has not yet risen, though the heralds of his imperial coming are seen flushing with their crimson and purple banners the eastern sky. The earth, too, seems to respond with a regal pomp of banners. Crimson, melting at one place into a rich brown, flashing in another into a living flame, and harmoniously blending everywhere with the deep green of the cedar and the hemlock, is all around us. The glory of the earth rivals that of the sunlit sky.- For, as we have said, it is October; and we are in Pennsylvania, the wooded land of Penn. Two young ladies, arrayed in riding costume, are standing before an open window, in an upper chamber of a large stone mansion. Their room being open only to the north and the west, they have caught but faint glimpses of the glory of the sunrise-but the glory of the earth-rise from darkness into light, is spread widely before them. The 7 8 PEMBERTON; coolness of the morning air, which, though a little raw to those of maturer years, comes pleasantly upon their faces, glowing with the rich, warm blood of youth, also is like wine unto their buoyant spirits. Let us listen to what they are saying. " Do you know what first came into my mind, Bel, when that fierce'rap, rap, rap,' sounded on our door this morning?" said the younger of the two, a maiden apparently.of some twenty summers. "Yes-that the enemy were upon us. That made you spring out of bed in such a fright," said the elder sister, mischievously. "Fright! and I the daughter of a Scottish colonel! You are joking, Bella. No, I thought we were again schoolgirls, among the nuns of Bethlehem. "' Sing a song of sixpence, Pocket full of tow, Sixty single bedsteads All. in a row.' " Oh, but we had high old times in Bethlehem, Bel. I wish sometimes we were back again, among the simplemninded sisters." "Well I cannot say, Helen, that I do." "Of course not-Pemberton!" "Andre." "Nonsense, Bel-I have not seen Captain Andre more than a dozen or twenty times in my life. But let us take one look more, and then go down. Uncle must be waiting." " This is a beautiful place to live in, Helen-is it not? See how finely the walks are laid out, with their marble vases and statues. And what a glorious view one has to the west, over the valley of the Wissahickon! Where are the Chews now?,' "I think the judge has been sent to Virginia-you OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. 9 know he is no more sound in the faith than old'CCousin' Pemberton; he cannot quite swallow the Independence declaration. He would not even give his parole to the rebels. I suppose the ladies are with him. They are brilliant girls." " Had we not better go down now?" " Stay-one moment. Do you see that gray mist-how curiously it sweeps down upon us from the north. One might almost take it for the sweeping onward of a hostile army. I am afraid we shall have a dull morning after all, for our ride to town. See, how rapidly it comes-before it all light and sunshine; behind it all darkness and gloom." Hark! did you hear that?" cried Isabella, excitedly. A dull report was heard, as if of a pistol, or distant musket. "It is an attack! " cried Helen, when this was followed by a loud report, as of a field-piece, and then by the distant roll of a drum, beating to arms. " Girls!" called a'deep voice at the door of the room; and then the door was pushed open, and, seeing them attired, an elderly man, in the.uniform of a British colonel entered, and joined them at the window. "What is it, uncle?" exclaimed both, almost in a breath. "It is an attack-it may be in force. It is a bad business, girls, having you here." "Do not be alarmed for us, uncle. We will give you no trouble," said Isabella, proudly. "If it is in force, we must march at once," said Colonel Musgrave, as if communing with himself. "And it sounds so "-as volley after volley of musketry broke upon his ears. "But there comes one of Simcoe's dragoons," he exclaimed, as a horseman rode up in hot haste, sword flash 10 PEMBERTON; ing, and helmet glittering. "Come down, girls, we shall learn something definite now." They hurried through the almost unfurnished house, and down to the front door-steps where the dragoon had reined up. " Colonel-the rebels are on us. It was almost a surprise. They have our camp. But we are holding them back." "How many? in force?" "The whole of Washington's army, I was bid to tell you. " "Wait one moment, girls," cried the colonel, as he sprang around the house, in the rear of which his regiment was encamped. Soon the roll of the drum was heard, and the silence of an orderly encampment gave place to loud commands and the bustle of military preparation. "I must lead the regiment at once to the support of the light infantry," said Colonel Musgrave, as he again joined his wards. " Can you risk riding to town alone-or how would it do to ride to headquarters! That is only about a couple of miles off." "If it were not for this mit, which has closed upon us so quickly, we could easily do either," replied Isabella. "Why cannot we remain here?" said Helen. "We shall be near you, uncle —and there may be wounded men to care for. We are not cowards." "No; I know you are not. But I should feel far easier in my mind if I knew you were in safety, and not exposed to those perils which always hang around contending armies. As to this house, if the enemy is in force, it will not long be a place of safety. I have sent word to Howe -but the advance of the rebels must be delayed as long as possible, in order to give time for him to get in position; and this mansion will make a capital fort, if need be." OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. II Colonel Musgrave spoke rapidly and excitedly-as if anxious to be at his post. "Well, uncle, do not fear for us; we will mount and ride, either to town or to headquarters, as may seem best," said Isabella. "Who shall I send with you?" "Nobody-we can protect ourselves for that distance." "Perhaps you are right. A British uniform would be as apt to draw as to ward off a rebel bullet. And, rebels though the colonists be, they are not given to shooting at women. But come in and take a cup of coffee to brace yourselves up with." A cup of coffee and some slices of bread were hastily swallowed, and then the young ladies mounted their horses -the colonel at the same time springing on his horse. "Girls, you know the way?" "Very well," said Isabella-" even in this mist." "You had better, it seems to me, not try to go down the Main road. It may by this time be sprinkled with the rebel troopers. I should advise you to strike over to the east, to the Limekiln road, and make your way down it. You know that, about a mile down, you can either strike into Germantown again, at the market place, or, if you hear firing in that direction, turn to the east once more, and follow the New York road to the city. If anything looks dangerous, take refuge in some private housenobody will refuse protection to two lorn damsels in distress. But let me know at once, after the battle, where you are." Colonel Musgrave had spoken rapidly-for his men had already left their encampment, with the exception of one company, which seemed to await further orders, and the roar of battle swelled louder and louder in his ears. Now 12 PEMBERTON; he passed his hand rapidly over his eyes, and said in a slower, softer tone: "And, girls, remember, if anything should happen to your old uncle, that he loved you very dearly, and, next to his king and country, would have died for you." Touching her horse with the whip, Helen was in a moment by the colonel's side-bending from her saddle to throw an arm around his neck, and to kiss his lips. "Uncle, let me stay with you-to live or die with you I" exclaimed she. "Yes, uncle-do not drive us away from you," chimed in Isabella. " Dearest and best of friends-heaven knows how good and kind you have always been to us." "You quite make a child of me, my dear girls," said the colonel, wiping his eyes once more. "And how foolish it all is! This is not my first, nor my fifth battle, as you well know. I came out of the others safely, and I mean to come safely out of this. But, if you do not go, and at once, I shall fight this battle with a heavy and troubled heart. Hear how the roar of the battle deepens! It is coming nearer. If you go at once, I do not think there is any great amount of danger-but, if. you stay, I know not what to do with you." "We will go at once then," said Isabella, turning her horse's head to the south. "And may heaven preserve you-best of benefactors and friends!" "Stay," said the colonel —taking a pistol from its holster, and half smiling, notwithstanding the seriousness of the occasion. "Will either of you have this?" "No, I thank you," replied Isabella, smiling in turn. " I will trust to the usual womanly weapons, and to the chivalry of men.." "Give it to me, then," cried Helen, impulsively. " Would I were a man to go with you, uncle, and not be OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. I3 shipped off as an incumbrance in this fashion. Is it ready for use?" "Be careful with it, Helen-my- servant always sees to it every morning. It will not fail you, if required," replied the Colonel. " But I can stay no longer. May the all-seeing God guide and keep you!" Putting spurs to his horse, Colonel Musgrave rode rapidly to the rear of the house-gave orders to the captain of the company he had held in reserve, to occupy the mansion, to barricade the doors and lower windows, and arrange everything for a vigorous defence if such should be necessary-and then dashed off after his regiment. By this time the mist had so closed around, as to render it impossible to see more than twenty or thirty yards distance, and that imperfectly. Judging from the noise of the conflict however-the continual rattle of musketry, the cries and shouts, and the occasional roar of field-piecesthe battle was rapidly rolling down toward the mansion. This proved that the British were still giving ground.. Occasional musket shots were also beginning to be heard on the Main road or street of the village, upon which, at a distance of several hundred feet, the building fronted. And it was evident to the young ladies that the sooner they started, the greater was their chance of effecting their ride in safety. 2 I4 PEMBERTON CHAPTER II. MOLL OF THE HATCHET. MORTON.. This is a cruel hag 1 PIETRO. Indeed, my lord, You well may say so. WELL acquainted with the roads, and with the lanesas all the shorter and narrower roads were appropriately called in that section of the country-the young ladies rode as rapidly as the misty obscurity would permit, in a southern direction through a farm path, to a lane which is now called by the name of Washington, but which then doubtless had some local designation. Helen had concealed the pistol her uncle had given her, in one of the large pockets worn at that day, and notwithstanding the possible difficulties of their situation, the spirits of the sisters seemed to rise as their high mettled steeds chafed under the curb which it was necessary to hold upon them. "Pshaw! would I were a man!" said Helen. "I should like to fire one good shot at least for my king-and stand by Uncle Musgrave in the thick of the battle. We are but an insignificant tribe, we women, Bella." " Well, for one woman, I am quite satisfied with my natural position," replied Isabella. "Why did you take that pistol? I declare I am afraid you will shoot me with it yet. I am glad that you have it on the other side of you. Take care you do not pull the trigger without meaning to."." Never fear, sister mine. I have shot off a pistol before this. Captain Andre gave me a whole hour's practice, down at Gray's Ferry, one afternoon. But here is the road, is it not? Yes, there is the gate, lying in the road. What would the Chews say if they were here, and OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. I5 could see their beautiful country-place now-gates and fences down in all directions." They are just as well off as their neighbors. I scarcely think there is a single farm fence standing in Germantown. What with the Hessian huts, and all the soldiers' fuel, the farms and country-seats seeni to be pretty well stripped. But, as you say, we turn toward the east here." "If it were not for this mist we could canter to headquarters in half an hour," said Helen. "Yes, in less time-but do take care, Helen; the ground is boggy near that stream," said Isabella, as they were crossing one of the little so-called creeks with which that part of the country is favored-streams which are seldom dry, even in the greatest heats of summer. Slowly the young ladies rode on, the noise of the battle growing fainter as they rode. But they had not gone much more than a mile, before the quick ear of Helen caught a noise in front of them. "What is that, Bel? Do you hear it?" "Stop a minute," said her sister. They had just ridden through a piece of woods, and they now gazed and listened intently. "It is the tramp and clatter of a regiment," said Helen. "They are going down the Limekiln road. What does it mean?" "It means they are the Americans-marching to attack the British right wing," replied Isabella, in a low voice, her face whitening a little. "We do not- want to travel in that company," said Helen, defiantly. "No. We must turn back. And quickly, too. I vow some of them are coming this way. Perhaps they mean to attack the Fortieth." Wheeling their horses the young ladies rode back upon their track, and more rapidly too than they had come. 106 PEMBERTON; "What shall we do, sis?" said Helen. Wait a moment-let us see first how things stand." They could not see, but they could soon hear how things stood. The large stone house they had left, then sleeping peacefully in its gray curtains of mist, was now a fortress, belching forth shot and smoke. Colonel Musgrave was evidently doing his devoir bravely, as a soldier true to his king. And other men, equally brave and true, and wiser in their day and generation, evidently were doing their devoir also with ball and bullet. Despite the peril, Helen's cheeks flushed. "The Fortieth is holding back the whole of Washington's army," cried she, exultingly. "Give me the Scottish blood after all, in the hour-" Her sentence was suddenly cut short by a cannon-ball, which struck the trunk of a large chestnut-tree not twenty feet from them, and rolled on the ground at the feet of their horses. The spirited animals, already excited by the deepening roar of the battle, sprung and reared, until it required all the skill of the fair riders-practised horsewomen though they were-to reduce them to subjection. "What shall we do, Bel? This is getting a little too exciting here. We cannot go back to the house-the Main road is evidently full of rebels-and behind us are more of the same sort. Speak quick." "The fences are all down-let us take to the fields, and push through them to the British lines. Of course there is some risk-but there is more in staying here," replied Isabella. The good sense of the suggestion was so evident, that at the word "fields," Helen had turned her horse's head to the south, and rode into the open fields-commons as they now seemed, in their desolation. They could still see only a very little distance around them-not more than suf OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. I7 ficient to enable them to keep the general direction in which they wished to go-while on the Main road, which ran parallel with their course, they could hear scattering shots which told that the advance of the Americans had passed Chew's house, and was pressing down upon the British centre. It was rather a trying position for young ladies who had been carefully and even elegantly nurtured; but, as the old proverb has it, "blood will tell," and these were Grahams-daughters of a race that had proved its courage and endurance on many a hard-fought field; and what is more, in the cottage of the exile, and on the scaffold of the proscribed and the outlawed. It would have seemed less trying even could they have put their horses into a wild gallop-but now that they had left the road, the danger of stumbling in the mist over empty post-holes, and partially removed fences, necessitated the greatest watchfulness. And, therefore, although they could hear the rattle of buckshot occasionally in the leaves of the trees under which they passed, they had to make progress slowly. "Don't ride over that wounded horse!" at length suddenly exclaimed Helen to her sister. Isabella pulled up hastily-for directly before her the animal was lying-evidently the horse of a soldier from the military equipments. " I wonder where the rider is?" said she, in a sympathizing tone. "There-look there-what does that mean?" cried Helen. A wounded officer, dressed in the Continental blue and buff, was lying on the ground, apparently interposing as much resistance as possible, to the plundering efforts of a brawny Irish woman, who with a bag by her side, and a 2* 18 PEMBERTON; hatchet in her hand, was tugging at his coat to get it off his shoulders, careless of the pain she inflicted. As the ladies rode up, they heard her say, "Be aisy now, you ribil, or I'll split yer head with my hatchet-as I've sarved many a better looking lad nor you. " " Moll of the hatchet," said Isabella, in a low voice to her sister. "'It must be she." The woman, looking up, suddenly perceived them. "What are the likes of ye doin' here? " she exclaimed hoarsely. "This is a swate place for the gintry, sure." "My good woman," said Isabella, "you certainly are not robbing or hurting that wounded soldier!" "He isn't a wounded soger, he's a baste of a ribil. Ride on wid ye, or it'll be the wus for you. Ride on, I hay." Moll of the hatchet, for it was indeed. she, whose bad fame as a cruel robber of the wounded had spread through both armies, now rose to her feet, and shaking her hatchet menacingly, again hoarsely bade them ride onward. "Not a step! " indignantly exclaimed Isabella; "are you not ashamed of yourself, you, a woman, to maltreat a wounded and, perhaps, a dying man? " "There's no use talking with such vile Irish trash," exclaimed Helen, her haughty blood flaming in her face, as she cut her horse with the whip, and forced him between Moll and the wounded man, nearly overturning the woman. Then flinging her whip to the ground, and pulling out her pistol, and cocking it, she presented it full at Moll's face, exclaiming, " Now, by the good Lord above us, if you do not at once drop that hatchet, and leave this place, I will blow your cruel brains out! " Moll hesitated-though her face blanched, as her eyes looked down the muzzle of the pistol. OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. I9 "Down with your hatchet, I say!" said Helen, in the suppressed tones of deep passion. "One moment more, and I shoot." The hatchet fell to the ground. "Now, leave this spot-at once!" "By the holy Pathrick-she's the divil of an angel, or the angel of a divil," said Moll, in a half stupor, taking up her bag to depart. "Put down that bag!" said Helen, the pistol again bearing on Moll. The bag fell. "Now go-and at once!"-the pistol still loweringthe light, firm finger on the trigger. "By the holy divil!" muttered Moll to herself, as she tramped off-glancing occasionally behind, to see the pistol still following her, until the mist hid her from view. "That pistol was a friend in need after all, sis," said Helen, demurely. "You are my brave and noble sister; and your taking the pistol was an inspiration from heaven," replied Isabella, gazing admiringly upon her. "But what are we to do now? We cannot leave this rescued knight lying here, perhaps to be murdered by that vile hag, perhaps to die from want of proper attention to his wound. There must be some house near, into which he could be taken." "There are plenty of houses, here and there, along the Main road; suppose you go and see if you cannot bring help from one of them, while I remain here on guard with my pistol." "I hate to go and leave you alone." "And I hate to see you go alone. But what can we do?" The case was so clear, that Isabella turned her horse toward the Main road, in quest of a dwelling. She soon 20 PEMBERTON; came to the rear of a medium-sized stone building, and riding up to the kitchen door, beat it lustily with the butt of her riding-whip. But no one seemed to be within. Dismounting, she fastened her horse to a part of the garden fence which remained standing, and pushed open the door. Entering, she nearly stumbled over a masculine form, lying extended just inside the threshold. "Bress de Lord! Bress de Lord!" thewhite black lips of a prostrate negro were ejaculating. "Where is your master?" demanded Isabella. " Bress de Lord-he am down in de cellur," replied the negro. Opening the cellar door, Isabella called aloud"Halloo-the house!" A step was heard on the stairs, and soon a tall, gaunt form in Quaker costume, presented itself. "What does thee want?" said the figure. "Is the cellar the usual sitting-room in Germantown?" inquired Isabella, sarcastically. "No, not the usual one. But thee sees when bullets come visiting unexpectedly, they are apt to put quiet housekeepers out' —and the Quaker, whose face denoted a fondness for quaint humor and sly jokes, gave a little laugh. "But what does thee wish-has thee come to spend a quiet day with Uncle Seth and Aunt Hannah?" In a few words Isabella made known her errand. And to do Seth justice, now that good was to be done, he manifested very little fear either of cannon-ball or bullet. Raising the trembling negro to his feet, and giving him a good shaking to restore his mental and physical equilibrium, they both proceeded, led by Isabella, to the relief of the wounded officer. "There are a good many Quakers about Germantown, I believe," said Isabella, as they walked on. OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. 21 Yes, and a good many quakers, just now, who do not belong to the Society of Friends," replied Seth. "Now, here's this darkey, Juba-he's been the worst kind of a quaker, ever since he heard the first gun fired. But there's another of you, is there?" added he, as they approached Helen, who had returned the pistol to her pocket, dismounted from her horse, and was now bending over the wounded man..She said he had been apparently conscious for a moment, when she had unloosed the tie around his neck, but had soon sunk again into unconsciousness. "Fainted from loss of blood," said Seth-and taking the wounded officer carefully by the shoulders, while the negro supported his feet, they carried him to the house. The sisters accompanied them-one leading her horse, the other carrying the. hatchet and the partially filled bag, which'the Irish woman had left behind her. When they entered the house, Seth deposited his inanimate burden on a settee, and said briskly to a kind-looking woman of middle age, who had come up from her place of safety to see what was going on: c Now, mother-here's a wounded soldier. Bring down some quilts, while I see where he is hurt. Was he thrown from his horse, at the time he was wounded?" "Indeed I do not know-we were not present-he is a perfect stranger to us," replied Isabella. The Quaker looked as astonished as one of his composed sect could be expected to. "I thought he was your brother, or friend," said he. "No, we came across him accidentally," rejoined Isabella-and then briefly narrated who they were, and how they had left their uncle to seek a place of safety, and their encounter with the female marauder-saying nothing of the pistol however. 22 PEMBERTON; "And so you persuaded Moll to give up her prey, and leave her hatchet and her plunder? Well, I never! But," and here his face brightened, "ah, I see-a little silver or gold will do a great deal. Money makes even such vicious mares as Moll go." During his remarks however, Seth had not been idle. He had examined into the condition of the wounded man's shoulder, which was the injured place, and was now about pouring some Jamaica rum into a cup. While the officer, on his part, manifested symptoms of returning consciousness. "It is not an artery," said Seth, "that seems certain. The blood has clotted and stopped itself-and I will not remove the linen which sticks to it, because I might set it going again. When he swallows a spoonful of this good liquor, I think he'll feel stronger." As the officer's face assumed a more natural hue, Seth started, and looked at him earnestly. Then he exclaimed, "Why, mother, look here! Is not this our Stephen's friend, Lefttenant Morris of McLane's troop? It is, surely." "Of course it is," said his wife, "I wonder thee did not see it was, at first." "I suppose I ought to, but then my wits were woolgathering in a very different direction." "Now," said Isabella to her sister,'" as the gentleman seems to be doing well, and is among his friends, perhaps we had better pursue our ride." "What!" said the Quaker matron. "You do not mean to go out among those dreadful soldiers!" Seth stepped outside of the kitchen door. "Come here," he said to Isabella. "Hear that!" The noise of musketry, which had been only faintly heard for the past half-hour, was evidently swelling up OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. 23 again, not only to the north of them, at Chew's house, but to the south, in the direction of the British headquarters, and between themselves and Philadelphia. "If you ride either north or south, you ride into the fire," said Seth. "Now take an old man's counsel. Remain here —in comparative safety. In perfect safety, if you choose to go below, into the cellar," he added slyly. Helen shook her head to the last proposition, disdainfully. "Well, in this back room, with the front of the house closed, you are comparatively safe; and near to your uncle besides. I will put your horses in the stable, where they will take their chances with my horse-the only one they've left me. Mother will manage to find us something'to eat for dinner-if we're alive to eat it-and when this horrible affair comes to a conclusion, as I suppose it soon must, one way or the other, you can mount, and ride wherever you think best." "Indeed you are very kind," said Isabella. "We dislike to trouble you-"' "Not a particle of trouble, my dear," interrupted Mrs. Williams. " Come up-stairs now; I know you would like to fix a little;" and she led the way, while the young ladies smilingly followed. At this juncture, the wounded officer drew a deep breath and opened his eyes. Gazing around him for a moment, he said in a faint voice, "Why, Uncle Seth, I did reach here, after all. I was wounded down below, and thought I should never get to you. What a dream I have had! I thought I was dead, and a fiend and an angel were fighting over my body, to see which should have me! " and the young man smiled faintly. " Hem! thee is all right-but thee had better not talk any more just now, but turn over and go to sleep. Mo 24 PEMBERTON; ther is a splendid nurse, and I'm as good as a doctor; and, if thee minds what we say, thee'll get well before many weeks, I warrant." The young man closed his eyes, and seemed to obey very easily the advice given him. While Seth turned his face toward Juba, who sat, observant of all that was going on, in the corner of the fireplace, and saw the latter's white ivories illuminating the blackness of his visage from ear to ear. "What is thee grinning about? "..said Seth, severely"go out at once, and stable those horses." Then he sat down in a chair, and seemed to enjoy something himself hugely, though in a very quiet, subdued and decorous Quaker fashion. "Well, I suppose young men will be young men, to the end of the chapter," said he at length to himself, apparently as the result of his meditations CHEW'S HOUSE. OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. 25 CHAPTER III. THE BATTLE IN THE MIST. MORTON. How went the battle? PIETRO. Excellent, my lord; We did not all we set about to do, But then we gave the braggart enemy A most uncommon scare. WE avail ourselves of this pause in our narrative, to sketch in a few words the main features of the battle which came so unexpectedly, like a summer thunderstorm, upon Col. Musgrave and his fair visitors. Lying on the Germantown or Skippack road, at a distance of about six miles from Philadelphia, the village of Germantown extended in a line of scattered stone houses, for about two miles in a northwesterly direction. Across the centre of the village, where the road was widened for the erection of a market-house, the British army lay stretched like some huge bird of prey-some vulture, or some condor of the desert - measuring about four miles from the tip of one huge wing on the New York road, to the tip of the other on the Schuylkill. But the weight of the body lay in the centre, directly-in and around the market place, where its iron beak and talons-in the shape of a splendid park of artillerywere lying ready to tear and rend whenever the occasion offered. In front, to secure the army against surprise, were a detachment of light infantry at Mount Airy, and the Fortieth regiment, under Col. Musgrave, at Chew's House-with other detachments in equally available positions. The British force had been weakened by the detaching of three thousand men, comprising the elite of the army, 3 26 PEMBERTON; to garrison Philadelphia, and make glad the hearts of the loyal in that important city. Another force also had been detached against the American defences on the Delaware. And well aware of these movements, after having been himself reinforced by fresh troops from New Jersey and Maryland, Washington determined to strike a blow at Sir William Howe, even in the midst of his fancied security. The plan of the American attack was well conceived and daring. It was to make a night march, to cut off the British sentries before daybreak at the advanced post at Mount Airy, so that they could not give the alarri-to break like a tornado upon the light infantry and Col. Musgrave's regiment, driving them as chaff before the wind-and thus fall upon the British main line at the centre of the town, while it was wholly or partially unprepared. Gen. Greene was to co-operate with this movement, by marching down the Limekiln road, which led to the front of the British right wing, to take it also unprepared, and drive all before him to the same central point, the market-house. Thus the right wing would either be divided or broken, the centre overwhelmed by sheer weight of numbers, and the left wing thrown back against the Schuylkill river, with a victorious army between it and Philadelphia, and doomed to surrender at discretion. The plan was an admirable one, and only needed good soldiers, good fortune and a rapid execution. But the night was dark, the roads were bad, and by the time the attack was to be begun, day had dawned, and the British encampments were awake and stirring. Captain McLane, to whose daring enterprise had been intrusted the duty of quietly capturing or killing the pickets, failed to effect his purpose. The alarm was given, and soon the three field OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. 27 pieces at Mount Airy communicated that alarm to the whole British camp. Wayne, hotter than ever from the shame of his recent midnight defeat, pressed on dauntlessly with his brigade of Pennsylvanians-his soldiers shouting to one another, " Remember Paoli! "-but they met men of the same stalwart race; and the British advance, with tenfold their number in front of them, knowing well the importance of time, maintained to the full the ancient reputation of their arms. Forced back upon Musgrave, after half an hour's hard fighting, the latter also soon yielded ground, but flung himself into the stone mansion of Judge Chew, barricading its lower doors and windows, and keeping up a heavy fire from the second story, the roof, and the outbuildings; while the remnant of the light infantry, pursued remorselessly by Wayne's maddened soldiery, fled down the road toward the main body. To add to the difficulties of the assailants, a heavy mist had arisen, which, combined with the smoke of the battle, rendered all objects obscure at the distance of a few yards, and prevented the commanders from knowing the position of their various corps and regiments. Wayne had pressed on after the British, down the main road toward the market-house; but when Conway's corps came up, it halted and joined those who were engaged in the assault upon Musgrave. At this moment up rode Sullivan, at the head of his brigade, and with him the Commander-in-Chief and his staff, with General Knox, of the artillery. "What is this? " asked Washington. He might well ask, for nothing could be seen, though the bullets were whistling all around them, and a return fire, accompanied with shouts, could be heard from the other side of the stone wall which lined the road. An officer of Conway's brigade answered. "A party 28 PEMBERTON; of British have thrown themselves into a large stone house, about a hundred yards from the road, and we are trying to dislodge them." "Wait a moment till I bring up my cannon," said Gen. Knox, a very corpulent but withal active man, with an animated, resolute face. "This is madness! " broke in one of Washington's aids, a small, handsome and fiery young man, called at that day by some "the little lion," but afterwards known as one of the wisest of statesmen and ablest of financiers-Hamilton the Immortal! "It would be madness to leave a fort in our rear, to cut off our line of communication,' replied Knox. That is against one of the first maxims of military science." " A fort! " echoed Hamilton, disdainfully. " Leave a regiment here to watch them, and drive them back if they attempt mischief-but our time is too precious to waste in battering down houses." "Yes, but who knows that the British are not marching up through the fields on the other side, and in force, to their support," interposed Sullivan. "They would take us then in flank and rear." All turned to the commander. "Perhaps," said he, " while we stand here considering, an earnest attack will capture the house, and settle the question to please all of us. We have to decide at a venture, for we can see nothing in this mist. Major White, cannot you take a party, and force the main door? " "Or fire the doors and shutters?" suggested Hamilton. Major White, reputed to be the handsomest mall in the army, as he had been previously in the ball-rooms of Philadelphia, smiled proudly as he answered"I will try, general." OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. 29 Knox rode off rapidly, notwithstanding, to bring up his cannon. Major White dashed against the door, it was already riddled with musket bullets, but it had been strongly barricaded, and his men dropped off rapidly beneath the constant fire from the upper windows. Then he had some pieces of rails and other light stuff collected, and darted forward again alone, with a fagot of these, a bundle of straw, and a lighted torch. Sheltered under the cornice of the doorway, while his men poured a steady rain of balls into the upper windows, he might have succeeded-but a shot from a cellar window struck him, and he staggered back off the steps, and fell mortally wounded upon the ground. By this time Knox had got a field-piece in positionbut his heaviest guns were six pounders, and while the balls went through the walls of the house, they made no opening by which a foe could enter. A half hour had been wasted. Washington had sat quietly upon his horse, listening to the reports his aids had brought him, seemingly unconscious of the storm of bullets raging around, until in compliance with General Sullivan's repeated importunities, he shifted his position a little out of the range of the heaviest fire. "Hamilton was right," said he at length, " as he is apt to be. But, as we have remained this long, suppose we try a summons to surrender. General "-to Sullivan"have a parley beaten, and a flag of truce sent in." Unfortunate order. The American advance, while this attack was going on, had dashed against the British centre, but had been met by a determined resistance. Wayne had penetrated to the Market Square; Greene, with the left wing, had forced his way nearly to the same point; but the British were recovering from the first shock, were 3* 30 PEMBERTON; bringing up regiments from the left and rear, the ammunition of Wayne's men had given out, a Virginia regiment had been surrounded and captured, it was difficult in the mist and smoke to distinguish friend from foe, and when the parley was beaten at Chew's, it was taken by many of the undisciplined Americans for the beating of a retreat. "We are surrounded!" cried some. "The retreat is beating! " cried others. And in spite of all the efforts of their officers, several of the regiments turned and fled. As the confused mass came surging back, up the main street, breaking the lines of Sullivan's brigade, it was evident that all the chances of success had passed, and Washington reluctantly gave the order to retreat. And thus bad roads, and mist, and the mistaken delay as it proved at Chew's house, and the want of ammunition, and the misunderstanding of a drum-beat, lost the battle of Germantown. WALNUT STREET FRONT OF THE STATE HOUSE IN 1776. OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. 31 CHAPTER IV. CAPTAIN ANDRE, A handsome man, and, more, a lovable; And, though an enemy, our honor bids Due entertainment should be given him. BY eleven o'clock the battle was over. The mist and smoke alike had cleared away. The sounds of the conflict had subsided into the calm peace of a sunny Autumnal morning. And were it not for the holes and rents left in the walls and wood-work of the houses by the passage of bullets and cannon-balls, and the stark and ghastly bodies of the slain, and the convulsed limbs and suppressed groans of wounded men, no one would have supposed that the hurricane of war had so recently darkened and deafened the apparently careless and unconscious heavens. Seth Williams and his visitors, standing at his front door, had seen Cornwallis dash on after the retreating Americans at the head of his cavalry, all wet with the sweat and foam of their rapid gallop from Philadelphiahad seen the grenadiers and Highlanders, panting and exhausted with their six miles run, flinging themselves down to rest upon the sides of the road, and on the steps of the houses-and then had gone in to partake of a country dinner, which Mrs. Williams had prepared for them. The young ladies ate with but a moderate appetite, for they felt anxious, not only for their uncle, but for other officers of the British army whom they knew intimately, although Mrs. Williams's food was of the best, and served on the cleanest of pewter platters. A batter pudding which she had boiled in a bag, and which was eaten with butter and West India molasses, was of itself enough to have tempted the appetite of an epicure-if any epicure ever had a real 32 PEMBERTON; and genuine appetite. But it was in vain she pressed her viands upon her visitors-they were too anxious at' heart to enjoy anything but good news. "Now," said Seth, as he rose from the table, "I will travel up toward friend Chew's, and see if I can find your uncle, young women, and let him know where you are, and that you are safe and hearty." The ladies looked their thanks. "As for Morris, I'm glad we got him so soon up-stairs -for if any of those pesky soldiers should come peeking in here, they might make bokh him and us trouble." Putting on his slouched hat, Seth left the house, and made his way up the street. Parties of soldiers were already engaged in carrying the wounded into the nearest barns and other buildings, where the surgeons were busily employed. Others assisted by the citizens were burying the dead, several of whom,. as Seth saw, had been plundered to the very skin, and were lying livid to blackness, and almost naked, on the side of the road, where they had either crawled themselves, or been dragged by others. "And these be Christian men, who rend and tear each other in this savage fashion!" muttered Seth. "For my part, I never could call myself a Christian, if I took part in such horrid doings." A short distance brought him to Judge Chew's place. Everything looked indeed as if a tornado had passed through there. The pleasant paths were torn up, the marble statues and vases mutilated and overthrown, branches of the trees were broken off, and hanging over and strewing the walks-and the fair mansion itself, with its doors and shutters riddled with bullets, was torn with cannon-balls, and blackened with fire and smoke. Above, scarcely a pane of glass or an entire window-sash remained. Soldiers were moving about, looking as dirty and grimy OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. 33 as the house itself-their faces blackened with gunpowder, and their clothes torn and soiled. "Where can I find the colonel?" asked Seth of one of them. The soldier looked at him for a moment, and simply pointed to the front of the house. "Ad - d Quaker!" said he to a comrade, as Seth passed on. Suddenly Colonel Musgrave turned, and perceived him. Advancing with rapid strides, he confronted him, saying"You bring me word of my nieces? Are they safe?" "Safe-but mightily distressed to hear from thee," replied Seth. "How far off are they? I will go to them this minute." "What, so near?" said the colonel, when Seth told him. " Tell them I will come in a few moments, and ride with them to town as we had arranged. Poor girls, they must be anxious to reach home." Seth returned. And in a few moments Colonel Musgrave was at the door-and in his nieces' arms. He had escaped without a scratch-and was highly elated with his share in the fight. "We met and rolled back the whole rebel army!" exclaimed he with pardonable exaggeration. "They dashed against our stone fort like waves against a rock-but they could make no impression on my gallant Fortieth!" Helen smiled proudly, and kissed his bronzed cheek. "You are my own gallant uncle, my father's dearest friend; and the Fortieth is the bravest.regiment in the service! But," continued she, "is any one hurt-any one that we know?" A shadow settled on the colonel's face. "Alas, the greatest victory will have its sacrifices. The cruel Moloch of War always demands its living victims. Many of my 34 PEMBERTON; best and bravest officers and men are dead-and others maimed for life. Captain Campbell is dead. Legrange is wounded. Simpson has lost his leg. Orville his arm. Oh, it is a long, cruel list!" "May God's mercy be with the dead and with the living!" said Isabella, fervently, while the tears stood in her eyes. " And outside of your own regiment? Have you heard from the main body?" inquired Helen eagerly. "Only partially. General Agnew is dead-killed almost at the close of the battle, and not far from this spot. " "It must have been that last sudden volley," said Helen; "startling us with its nearness, when we thought all was over." "A small body of rebels threw themselves in his front from the side of the road; he was leading on his troops, but turned his horse to ride back as he saw them. They delivered a volley and fled, shooting him in the back. Alas, poor Agnew-he was a noble fellow!" "Was General Grey's division in the action," pursued Helen, her cheek coloring a rather deeper red; "and is the general safe?" "Yes, the general is unhurt; he brought up the left wing in good time, and did good service. Trust our'No Flint' for that." "Is Major Tarleton safe?" still queried Helen. "And General Grey's aid, Captain. Andre?" added Isabella, with a glance at her sister. "Yes, I think Tarleton and Andr6 are both safe. I saw Grey for a moment, and he said nothing of Andr6's being hurt, which he certainly would have done, if it had been so, for Andre is such a favorite of his-and of everybody's, for that matter." OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. 35 Helen seemed at length satisfied. And the conversation then turned upon the young ladies and their adventures.. Nothing was said however about "Moll of the hatchet," or the wounded American officer-the young ladies evidently not feeling quite certain of their ground, as their uncle, with all his kindness, had very little respect for rebels; and just at that moment especially, could not be expected to be in a very placable and forgiving mood. They introduced him formally, however, to Seth and his wife, and said how greatly they were indebted to their kindness. And the colonel testified his gratitude in a few simple and manly words, ending with an intimation to them to let him know if any of the British soldiers gave them trouble, as he might be able to set matters straight. "And now, girls," cried he, "let us mount and ride." The young ladies went up-stairs to get their riding caps, as they said-but also to say a few words doubtless to Lieutenant Morris, who, what with the rest and a little food, was already quite another man. He was still weak however from the loss of blood, though Seth said that his wound was by no means a serious one. "I scarcely know how to thank you, ladies; you probably saved my life," said he with great earnestness, as they announced their intention of leaving. "Oh, it was all Helen's doing," replied Isabella. "Nonsense. I just happened to have the pistol, that was all." "I suppose all such things just happen," said the officer, smiling. "Perhaps Heaven allows them to just happenbut not the less is it true that to you, Miss Helen, I probably owe my life. And therefore I am in honor bound to hold it at your service. And will pay the debt, whenever you or yours need it." "Lieutenant Morris," replied Helen, "what I did for 36 PEMBERTON; you, I would just as freely have done for any other manfriend or enemy. And you pain me by talking as you do. You must not consider yourself under any such grievous burden of gratitude.'" "Grievous! it is a pleasant burden!" replied the young.man, enthusiastically. " Girls! are you not ready? Time is flying while you are fixing," called the colonel up the stairway. Isabella extended her hand-the young officer pressed it warmly. Helen extended hers-he took it and pressed it fervently to his lips. Snatching it away, and blushing crimson, Helen sprang after her sister, who was already descending the-stairs. "It takes you young ladies a terrible time to arrange your hair and put on your riding caps," exclaimed Colonel Musgrave, a little impatiently. "Oh, Helen was dreaming, as usual, of the days of chivalry, and knights and ladies fair," replied Isabella, archly. "Helen is a-" But a fair, soft hand was pressed over his lips, and intercepted. the rest of the colonel's sentence. "Well, say good-bye, and let us be going," resumed he, laughing. Taking a warm adieu of Seth and his wife, and promising to ride out and see them before many days, the young ladies mounted, and resumed their ride under more favorable auspices, attended by Colonel Musgrave and his orderly-who rode behind in a very stiff and imposing fashion. Just before Isabella mounted, however, she had contrived to say in a low tone to Seth, that if anything occurred of interest to himself or his wounded guest, to let them know at once, giving him their direction in the city. And Seth had replied that he expected to be in town in a OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. 37 day or two, and would call in any event, and let them know how affairs were going on. The road was considerably thronged as they rode down toward the city-alike with soldiers and with the inhabitants, who were gazing with deep interest on all the sad traces of the combat. The wounded generally had been by this time removed, but parties were still employed in burying the dead. At one place, just inside a field, a large shallow grave had been dug, and fifteen or twenty of the American dead lay beside it, as Colonel Musgrave and his party rode up. Stopping their horses at the side of the road, they gazed pitifully upon the solemn scene. The British soldiers began to lift in the bodies, placing the faces upward. Suddenly the colonel spoke: "Not so, my men; put them with their faces downward. Let us not cast the dirt into their faces. for they also are mothers' sons." "What a queer compound man is," continued the colonel, half apologizing as they rode on. "Here am I, fresh from dashing steel and bullets into the faces of live rebels -and yet tender of flinging a little dirt into the faces of dead ones." "And you would not be my own noble uncle, if you were not thus inconsistent," replied Isabella, while Helen warmly assented with her expressive eyes. Soon they reached the market-place, where a number of officers were assembled, some on foot, some mounted, at General Grant's* headquarters. Many were the salutations, and more the looks of surprise, as the ladies rode by. Then a young officer followed, and riding up to the party, * General Grant commanded the British right wing. He was probably of the same Scottish family that President Grant is descended from. 4 38 pEMBERTON; saluted the colonel, and reined in his horse by the side of Isabella. "Surely, ladies, you have not been in the battle?" said he. " Not exactly in it-and yet in the midst of it," replied Isabella. "I suppose you, Miss Helen, acted as aid to Colonel Musgrave-and this explains why the Fortieth made such a splendid defence. How could they yield, when they were defending the ladies?" "My nieces were not with me, Captain, I am happy to say," said the colonel. I do not know where we could have stowed them safely-except perhaps in the wine cellar." "We ingloriously fled the fight-though in obedience to our commander's peremptory orders," said Isabella; "and sought a harbor of safety in the house of a peaceloving Quaker." "Well, I am glad you came safely through-and glad that I did not know of the perils you were exposed to." "The battle was pretty well fought on both sides, I think, Captain Andre," said Colonel Musgrave. "Grey, I hear, brought up his brigade just at the right time." "Yes-and if it had not been for the thick mist, which hid the enemy completely from view, I doubt much whether more than half of Washington's army would have got back to their old quarters." "True, the mist was greatly to our disadvantage. And it is a shame that so audacious an attempt as this, should thus, by sheer good-luck, go almost unpunished." "I am sorry I cannot ride on to Philadelphia with you, ladies," said Andre, "but this is of course a busy day at headquarters. How is Mr. Pemberton?" "He was in excellent health and spirits, I believe, yes OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. 39 terday, when we left," said Isabella. "Have you any message for him?" "Tell him I shall be in the city in a day or two, to see him-if he does not ride out to see me. Good-bye, Colonel. Good-bye, ladies-au revoir." Returning his adieus, they rode on. "That's a fine fellow," said the colonel. "Splendid!" replied Isabella. " He is, in the opinion of us ladies, the very Chevalier Bayard of the army-without fear and without reproach." "A lucky fellow," continued the colonel, "to have both the young men and the young women crazy about him. What do you think of him, Helen?" "Oh, I suppose he'll do." "Why, I thought, Helen, that Andre would just be a man after your own heart," said the colonel, in a surprised tone. "After Helen's heart? Why, uncle!" jested Isabella. "Bella, there are some things which it is not pretty to jest about," said Helen, with offended dignity. " Of course Helen understood what I meant," said the colonel, who was not a very keen appreciator of a joke. " But as for Andre, why even Arthur Pemberton, who, I believe, is your great admiration, Helen, admires him to the utmost, if one may judge by their great intimacy on so short an acquaintance." "Arthur Pemberton is the most splendid man I know," said Helen, decidedly. The colonel opened his honest eyes. " Well, Helen, all I have to say is, that I have no objection to Arthur Pemberton but one, and that is a very serious one-I do not believe he is more than half loyal." "Oh, I have no intention of marrying him, uncle-nor 40 PEMBERTON; he of marrying me. When I fall in love, if I ever do, it shall be with a thoroughly loyal man." "Arthur Pemberton is as true and honorable a man as the most loyal and devoted subject of the Crown! " exclaimed Isabella, her dark eyes kindling, and her cheeks flushing. Helen gave a little laugh. " Of course he is, sis-uncle knows I allow no one to abuse Mr. Pemberton, but myself." "And yet, Isabel, I would rather not hear you speak in that way," rejoined Colonel Musgrave. "It seems to undervalue the great virtue and merit of loyalty-and fall in thus with the hateful rebel fashion of talking." Isabella made no reply. And soon she began a conversation with her uncle upon the beauty of the Autumnal woods, and the' delightful temperature of the Autumnal season in that part of the country, which lasted until they arrived at the house of Mrs. Pemberton, with whom the young ladies were residing. OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. 41 CHAPTER V. A WOMAN'S WILL. He shall not be molested. Mind, I say He shall not I Tut-a foe I What care we women For that? MRS. PEMBERTON-Or Rachel Pemberton, as she pre-.ferred to be called-was a widow of. considerable means, and a member of the Society of Friends. She lived with her only son, Arthur Pemberton, in a large brick house, which stood at that time on Chestnut Street above Third -the grounds, pleasantly laid out, extending on the west and in the rear to Dock creek, which was large enough for boating and skating. Distantly related to the Grahams, and taking a warm liking to them on acquaintance, she had proposed to the young ladies to board with her so long as they should decide to remain in Philadelphia-a rather indefinite period. Brought from their school at Bethlehem before the war, by their father, who was an officer in the British service, and stationed temporarily in Philadelphia, they had eagerly embraced Mrs. Pemberton's offer. They had never known a mother's care, and in Mrs. Pemberton they seemed to find a mother. And at their father's death, which occurred at the breaking out of the war, they had felt the blow softened by the love and tenderness of the aged lady with whom their lot had been so opportunely cast. Colonel Musgrave was an old friend of their father's, and had consented to act as their guardian. They soon learned to love him, and to call him uncle-though he really was not related to them. They had some property -not very much, but ample for their personal supportthey were connected through their mother, not only, as 4* 42 PEMBERTON; we have said, with the Pembertons, but with other of the old Quaker families of the city, and were thus as advantageously situated as two orphaned girls could well be. They were beautiful girls, or rather, women. Finely formed, clear-skinned, intelligent, gay, and high-spirited. Isabella with dark eyes and dark brown hair-Helen with blue eyes and gold-brown curls; the first calm, self-poised and equable; the latter more impulsive-more a creature of the emotions and the passions. The one might be called the more queenly and charming, the other the more spirited and fascinating. Both were among the most bewitching women of a city, whose belles an impartial judge, Mrs. John Adams, termed "a constellation of beauties." A day or two after the scenes already described, the sisters were seated in a little sitting-room adjoining their chamber. Helen was tossing over a lot of old lettersreading a few lines here and there, and commenting on their contents. At last she broke out in a clear and ringing laugh. "Just hear this, Bel! Now I want to read- you what you wrote me about Arthur Pemberton, when I was at Bethlehem, and you here in Philadelphia on a visit." "You need not trouble yourself to read it, Helen. I think I can remember it without a reading." "Oh, but I must-in fact, I want to refresh my own memory," said the laughing tease. "Just listen, Bella:" "'He is rather tall-but not too tall'-(" not so tall that he cannot be conveniently kissed," interpolated Helen)-' his features are clearly cut-his eyes a bluishgray-his chin dimpled-his mouth finely formed'-("just ripe and sweet enough;" again interpolated Helen-)'and then' " "Helen, you would greatly oblige me. by giving me that letter," interrupted Isabella, holding out her hand. OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. 43 "Indeed I could not think of such a thing. Why, it is the very treasure of all my collection. Let me proceed -where did I leave off? oh, yes-" "'And to crown all' —(" of course; that is very well said, to crown all; where should it be if not on his crown?") -' and, to crown all, the finest head of hair I ever sawa light, shining auburn, negligently tied, and waving down the back. Loose flowed the soft redundance of his hair.'" "Helen, you are too bad-it is shameful! " exclaimed her sister, her face a crimson, and making a successful dash for the letter, which she crammed into her bosom. Helen made a counter-dash to recover it. Isabella ran around the room-getting behind chairs, jumping upon a sofa, and making a gallant running fight for the vexatious and precious document. Knock! knock! knock! "Are you not ashamed of yourself, Helen? You make so much noise that some one has been knocking at the door unheard for the last ten minutes." "Who began it?" said Helen, defiantly-smoothing her ruffled plumage. Knock! knock! knock! "Coming " cried Isabella, smoothing her hair with her hands, and going to the door. Opening it, there stood Fox, the old negro of the house. "Miss Bella, an old Quaker gemman of de Friendly persuasion is down in de parlor, waiting for to see de young wimmen by de name of Graham." "It is Mr. Williams, Bel, by all that is good," said Helen, who was listening. "No use in. fixing any more for him-let us go down at once. Tell him we are coming, Foxey." They found Seth in the parlor. After their mutually 44 PEMBERTON; warm greetings, Seth entered at once on the object of his visit. Lieutenant Morris was doing very well indeedbut the British provost, Captain Cunningham, had ascertained, in some way, that an American officer was lying in the house, had visited him, declared that he was plenty well enough to move, and was about to carry him offeither to the hospital, or to that den of horrors, Walnut Street prison. It was only by threatening him with the indignation of Colonel Musgrave, Seth said, that he could obtain a respite until the afternoon. "I did not like to mention your names," said Seth, "and yet I am afraid, that Colonel Musgrave may hear of the matter from that brutal captain, and say he knows nothing about the lefttenant." "Perhaps we had better write to uncle upon the subject," said Isabella to her sister; "and yet he will wonder that we said nothing about the lieutenant'when he called for us at Mr. Williams's." "Yes, it is awkward," replied Helen. "But'in for a penny, in for a pound.' Cunningham shall not have him! Could you find Captain Andre, if I should give you a note to him? " turning to Seth. "Is he not one of those they call aidecamps, and along with General Grey? I think I know the young manrather good-looking, is he not? dark-complected? brown eyes? almost always smiling?" "A pretty good description," laughed Isabella"though " (in a whisper to her sister) " hardly up to your standard, I suppose, sis. Helen, will you write to him?" For answer, Helen opened the writing-desk attached to a large mahogany book-case, and wrote as follows:"Helen Graham's compliments to Captain Andre, and would be grateful if the captain could do her a service. A OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. 45 rebel lieutenant, named Morris, is lying wounded in the house of Mr. Seth Williams, the bearer of this note, at Germantown. Mr. Morris is an acquaintance of Miss Graham's, and she wishes him paroled at once, and exchanged as soon as possible. The case is urgent, as Captain Cunningham insists upon taking him. to prison. Explanations deferred till Captain Andre next visits the city." "Cold and formal enough,", said Isabella, after reading it; "but I guess it will work. To make all sure however, let me now write a note to Colonel Musgrave, to be delivered if necessary." Isabella's note also written, both were confided to Seth, with instructions not to deliver the second unless Captain Andre could not be found, or his exertions should prove unavailing. Then Seth mounted his steed, and departed in high good humor. As he rode up Fourth Street, as rapidly as his old horse could well go, he murmured to himself"Now, them girls may be Britishers-but they're what I. call clear grit. That Helen in particular, is one of those females which take a man-I mean a young man-clean off his feet. Let's see what.this Captain Andry will say. As for the lefttenant, he's gone already, hook and line, rope and bucket-any fool can see that. But he's a rebel, and she's a Britisher-perhaps a tory.. Ah, well, well, well! " 46 PEMBERTON; CHAPTER VI. THE WISSAHICKON. All noble souls are kindred. Through the bars Of Country and of Sect they shake warm hands. And even o'er the yawning chasms wide Of intervening Centuries, they send Their messages of friendship and of cheer. SEVERAL weeks have elapsed since the events narrated in our last chapter, and the British army is no longer at Germantown. Seeing the danger of dividing his forces, and being anxious to put himself in a position where he could safely detach a large body to reduce the American fortifications on the Delaware, Sir William Howe had marched one fine morning to the outskirts of Philadelphia. There he had erected a line of fortifications, extending from the Delaware to what is now called Fairmount on the Schuylkill, and then felt himself perfectly secure from any further audacious attempts at surprisal. The note borne by Seth to Captain Andre had worked like a charm. Lieutenant Morris had not only been paroled but at once exchanged. And as a few weeks had made a great difference in his condition, he had already rejoined his troop. It was on the morning of one of those beautiful days which crown with a halo. of glory the American Autumn, that a party of four equestrians were preparing to set out from the house of Mrs. Pemberton. The usual little crowd had collected around to see the ladies mount-for when will not everybody stop and turn to see a young lady on horseback?-and, amid laughter and gay jests, the cavaliers had made a knee for their fair companions, and placed them in the saddle. There were but two couplesIsabella and Arthur Pemberton, Helen and Captain Andre. OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. 47 The riding attire of the ladies was not very unlike that which is worn at present. The gentlemen wore the long breeches reaching to the ankle and lined with broad stripes of leather, called Cherry Vallies, which were often used for riding at that day in order to dispense with the high boots, which were heavy and clumsy. "Where is Prince?" said Helen, after gathering up her reins; and she blew a silver hunting whistle which hung around her neck. "Now, Helen," said Isabella-" let me entreat you not to take that dog. Prince is growing old and heavy, and we shall have a pretty long ride to-day." " Yes, Miss Helen," added Arthur Pemberton, " I agree with your sister. Prince, before the day is done, would thank you for letting him remain at home." "Just as you say," replied Helen. "See how amiable I am, Captain." " Oh, I know you are a perfect paragon of amiability," returned Andre, smiling. "What a pity that none of the rest of the party could go," said Isabella, addressing Andre. "What is in the wind, Captain?" "I see that Foxey's largest flag is, for one thing," replied Andre evasively, looking up at the top of Mrs. Pemberton's house, on which a large British flag was streaming from a flag-staff. "Why, Foxey," continued he, turning to the negro, who stood on the sidewalk, "you have your largest flag out to-day." "Yes, Massa Ander, old Foxey knowed you'uns were goin' horseback to-day. He allers hang out de big flag on de great occasums." "You evaded Bella's question," said Helen, as they moved. off at a gentle pace, or rack, as it is often termed. 48 PEMBERTON; "Yes, I did; there were so many standing by. But the officers could not go, as they happen to be on service today, and the ladies do not care to go without their escorts. Miss Franks threatened to go till the very last, but even her love of fun could not keep her up to it." As they rode out Fourth street, then only sprinkled with houses, and unpaved like all of the streets at that time, a small crowd attracted their attention. It was gathered around one of the street musicians of the day —a.negro with what was called a banjo, a kind of guitar made of a gourd, who was singing a popular song in his rude dialect, apparently to the great delight of the listeners. It was the fashion at that time for the ladies to wear the hair very high, somewhat in the style of the pompadour rolls of the present day, though a great deal higher. The fashion began in fact with rolls, over which the hair was combed back, but these were superseded by cushions, and artificial curled work, which was often sent out to the barber to be dressed, like a wig, while the fair owner remained at home. The gentlemen of that time, like the gentlemen of this and all times, were much given to satirizing these extravagances of the more beautiful sex, and with just as much effect as at the present day; and some wit had composed the song which the negro was singing, and which, in good English, would read somewhat as follows: Give Chloe a bushel of horse-hair and wool, Of paste and pomatum a pound, Ten yards of gay ribbon to deck her sweet skull, And gauze to encompass it round. "Let her flags fly behind for a yard at the least, Let her curls meet just under her chin, Let those curls be supported, to keep up the jest, With an hundred, instead of one pin. OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. 49 " Let her gown be tucked up to the hip on each side, Shoes too high for to walk or to jump, And to deck the sweet creature complete for a bride, Let the cork-cutter make her a hump. " Thus finished in taste, while on Chloe you gaze, You may take the dear charmer for life; But never undress her-for, out of her stays, You'll find you have lost half your wife! "* As our party rode by, the gentlemen half-halted to listen, but Helen exclaimed impatiently, "It is only that odious song again. I wonder that any gentleman could write it, or that any gentleman can listen to it." "What was that you were saying about amiability, a little while ago?" asked Pemberton, demurely. "Amiability is one thing, and stupidity is another," said Helen. "I quite agree with you as to that," replied Pemberton, smiling. "But what do you think of the sign on -the tavern there," pointing to a representation of a man carrying his wife on his back. "What does that mean? " inquired Isabella. "Read the legend beneath," said Pemberton-"' The man loaded with mischief.' "."It should read,' The man in his properpylace, as a beast of burden.' " commented Helen, sarcastically. "For my part I think that all that men are good for, is to provide money and amusement for women. Don't you think so, Mr. Andre?" "Yes, if you will allow me to add a sentence-and all that women are good for, is to provide homes and love for men." "I agree with you fully," said Isabella over her shoulder-she and Pemberton were in advance. * The reader will note how curiously the fashions, including high hair, high heels, bustles, paniers and hoops, have all come round again in the course of about a century, 5 50 PEMBERTON; "Oh, well, what is the use of quarrelling?" cried Helen. "I hate quarrelling, and like to have my own way. If that is not being thoroughly amiable, I don't know what is.." "There are the barracks," said Pemberton. "There are not as many lounging in front as usual, to-day. And I do not see the Hessians at their encampment either." "Ah, that is where the officers have gone-with the soldiers," commented Helen. "I hope they will all get safely back again. I don't admire battles so much, since I saw those poor fellows huddled into the earth at Germantown." "Ah, Helen is half a rebel now," said Pemberton; "that young lieutenant has done what I could never do, convince her that the rebels have some little good left in them. " That is not surprising," replied Helen. "Mr. Morris is a gentleman and a scholar. I do not think I have seen so handsome a man, since-since, when shall I say, Bel?" " Let me see. Since-since you had that flirtation with General Knyphausen at Mr. Bingham's." " General Knyphausen indeed! I don't fancy gentlemen who spread their butter on their bread with their thumb nails. Besides, I never flirt. Did you ever see me flirt, Mr. Pemberton?" "I never saw you do anything else," replied Pemberton, laughing. "Arthur Pemberton! " exclaimed Helen, her face coloring to the temples. "I think that is hardly fair, Arthur," said Isabella, gravely. "I own up-beg forgiveness-plead guilty," replied Pemberton. "Indeed, Helen, I only said it because it came in so well. In fact, it a-kind of said itself. I know OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. 51 very well you do not flirt-not even with Major Tarleton. "I detest Major Tarleton!" exclaimed Helen; "and you know it." "Hush! hush!" said Isabella. "You know the old saying,'Speak of Satan, and he will appear!'" They were approaching, by this time, one of the British redoubts, which commanded the road. A number of dragoons were scattered around, while a rather short but somewhat heavily-built officer, with a swarthy complexion, was seated on his horse, and conversing with the commander of the outpost. "Good-morning, ladies and gentlemen," cried he, as they rode up; "you are bound for a ride, I see." After due salutations, Tarleton continued. " Why, Andre, where are your regimentals? Are you not a little afraid to venture beyond our lines without them?" "I am a good deal more afraid to venture as far as we are going, with- them," replied Andre, smiling. "Some of the colonists, you know, grow rabid at the sight of a red coat; and they might make it dangerous, not only for me, but for my company. I was a little puzzled, too, what color to substitute. Pemberton here can wear blue, but I don't like it. Green is the refugee, and also the French color. Brown is rather dull. And so I have chosen gray, as you see, which suits admirably in one respect, as I am in Grey's corps!" " I hope, then, you either have a pass, or else will not meet any of Lee's or McLane's light horse, for they are the rabidest kind of rebels." "Oh, we are all right in that respect, Major," said Pemberton. "Would you like to see the rebel pass?" "I never object to seeing anything," replied Tarleton; "it may prove useful some day "-turning his small and 52 PEMBERTON; piercing black eyes upon the paper. "That is a curiosity in the way of a pass." He read it aloud: "Allow Miss Helen Graham, and not more than twelve of her friends, either in or out of military costume, to pass our patroles to the Wissahickon, in the neighborhood of Cresheim creek. "GEORGE WASHINGTON, "Commander-in-Chief." "That is the first time I ever saw the old surveyor's signature," continued Tarleton. "Would not some of their other generals have done as well? Miss Helen, you seem to be a person of influence at the rebel headquarters." "Miss Helen generally is, wherever she is known," replied Andre. " But it puzzles me how she can be known there," continued Tarleton, as if nothing ought to puzzle him. "I think you will have to stay puzzled a little while, Major," said Helen, rather coldly. "There is something for you to exercise your vaunted penetration upon. I thought you always knew pretty much everything." "I think I shall be able when I see you next to tell you all about it," replied Tarleton, a little nettled. "Of course if I learn that Washington once happened to see you with his field glass, at twenty miles' distance, I shall understand it all. Valor always is the devoted servant of beauty." "Come, gentlemen-if we stop to listen to Major Tarleton's flow of compliments, we shall never get to our journey's end. We all know the Major is famous as a lady-killer," rejoined Helen, giving her horse the whip. OR, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. 53 "If you meet any of McLane's men near Germantown, tell them I am coming up that way in an hour or so," cried Tarleton, as they rode on. "We shall do nothing of the kind," replied Isabella. "Now for a sharp trot-or shall it be a fast canter?" cried Helen. "Can these pacers trot?" asked Andre, of Pemberton. "I see you have had to come to the pacers," laughed Isabella. "Yes, indeed," replied Andre. "It is too much like torment to ride an English trotter at his slowest trot, in company with one of your American pacers. Besides, I admit there is no gait so favorable for conversation as the pace, when you wish to get along a little faster than a walk." 4 A perfectly gaited horse, according to our Philadelphia ideas," said Pemberton, "should be a fast walker, a gentle pacer, a square, honest trotter, and easy at the canter and the run. Now here is Selim, who is perfect." He patted the neck of the beautiful chestnut he bestrode-gentle and quiet as a lamb, but, at the touch of the whip or spur, full of fire and spirit. "Is that the horse that is fond of liquor?" inquired Andre.'