Elsie on the Hudson Part 7

"I hope he didn't get killed, papa?" said Little Elsie.

"No; he lived through the war, and for many years afterward. In 1827 he was in New York City as witness at a trial in court, and an old gentleman who knew him introduced him to the audience as the original of Harvey Birch--Cooper's spy. That story had been turned into a play, and was then being performed at one of the theatres. Notice was given that Crosby had accepted an invitation to attend the play, and the house was crowded with an audience who warmly greeted the old soldier."

"I'm glad they did," said Elsie. "It must have been pleasant for him, and I'm sure he deserved it; for he had helped a great deal to get us all free. Papa, haven't we just the very best country in all the world?"

"So I think," her father answered with a smile; adding, "and that being the case we ought to be the best people in all the world. Don't you think so, daughter?"

"Yes, indeed, papa; and I mean to try."

"Why not go to Fishkill to-morrow?" asked Sydney.

"All in favor of so doing may say aye," said the captain, glancing around upon the small crowd of hearers, big and little.

"Aye!" exclaimed every voice, and that was followed by a ripple of laughter. As that died down, "We seem to be of one mind," remarked the captain pleasantly. "Well, the yacht will be ready to start immediately after breakfast, if the weather is pleasant. We would hardly wish to go in a storm."

"Oh, no!" exclaimed several voices; "especially as we have plenty of time to wait for a pleasant day."

"Yes," the captain said; "but there is every indication that we will not have to do so--that to-morrow will prove as fine a day as we could wish; and I suggest that our young people--and all older ones who desire plenty of sleep--should retire pretty soon; for we will need to rise early if we want abundance of time for our expedition.

The trip on the river will be short, but we will probably want to spend at least half the day on sh.o.r.e."

Everyone followed the captain's good advice; they were all up early next morning and ready to start on their proposed trip in good season.

The weather proved pleasant, no accident befell any of them, and all enjoyed very thoroughly their visit to Fishkill and its vicinity. They visited the Verplanck House--interesting as having been the headquarters of Baron Steuben when the American Army was encamped near Newburgh, and also as the place where the celebrated Society of the Cincinnati was organized in 1783.

"Won't you please tell us something about Baron Steuben, papa?" asked Elsie Raymond as they were returning from their visit to the Verplanck House.

"Yes," replied the captain. "He was a German soldier, born in Magdeburg, Prussia. His full name was Frederick William Augustus Henry Ferdinand von Steuben. His father was a captain in the army, and he became a soldier when a mere lad. He saw and took part in a great deal of fighting, and in 1762 was made aide to Frederick the Great. He took part in the siege of Schweidnitz, and that closed his military career in his own land. He retired from the army, and was living most comfortably on a salary, while we were struggling for our freedom. In December, 1777, he went to Paris, on his way to visit some English n.o.blemen who were friends of his. In Paris he met the French minister of war, who seems to have been a good friend to America, for, knowing that the great weakness of our army lay in the fact that the men lacked discipline and knew little or nothing of military tactics, he tried to persuade Steuben to come to this country and teach them.

"But very naturally the baron was not willing to sacrifice his income and his honors in order to help a cause that seemed so desperate. Yet at length he yielded to Germain's solicitation and promises, and decided to come to the help of the struggling Colonies. He came over on a French gunboat; having a long stormy pa.s.sage of fifty-five days, the vessel taking fire three times--a very hazardous thing, as there were 1700 pounds of powder on board. Also there was an attempt to mutiny. However, he finally arrived safely at Portsmouth, N. H. He had a warm welcome there, the whole population going out to receive him."

"And did he go right into our army, papa?" asked Elsie.

"He wrote at once to Congress offering his services to the Colonies, saying he had come to this country because he would serve a nation engaged in the n.o.ble work of defending its rights and liberties, adding that although he had given up an honorable t.i.tle and lucrative rank, he asked neither riches nor honors. He called upon Congress, and told them he would enter the army as a volunteer; if his services were not satisfactory, or if the Colonies failed to establish their independence, he was to receive nothing; but if they were successful, and he remained in the army, he expected to be refunded the income he had given up, and remunerated for his services."

"That was a good offer," remarked Eric. "I suppose they accepted it?"

"They did," replied his uncle; "and Steuben went to Valley Forge, where Washington and his army were encamped at that time. When he saw our half-starved, poorly clad soldiers come creeping out of their huts he was astounded, and said 'No European army could be kept together a week in such a state.' But he began his work at once. He did a great work; probably we could never have won our independence without the help he gave us in training our soldiers for the hard struggle necessary to win it. The fine effect of that discipline was seen in the Battle of Monmouth, when Baron Steuben rallied the retreating and disordered troops of Charles Lee like veterans."

"Did he stay in this country till the war was over, papa?" asked Elsie.

"Yes; and as long as he lived. He made New York City his home for several years. I am ashamed to say that Congress refused to fulfil its contract with him to pay him for his services, but he was given grants of land in New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Virginia. The first he declined to take when he learned that it was the estate of an old Tory who would be left dest.i.tute, and in the kindness of his heart he interceded for him. Steuben was very kind-hearted and generous.

Lossing gives us some anecdotes ill.u.s.trative of that. He says that in Newburgh, at the time of the disbanding of the army, Colonel Cochran was standing in the street penniless, when Steuben tried to comfort him by saying that better times would come.

"'For myself,' replied the brave officer, 'I can stand it; but my wife and daughters are in the garret of that wretched tavern; and I have nowhere to carry them, nor even money to remove them.' As Lossing says, 'The baron's generous heart was touched, and, though poor himself, he hastened to the family of Cochran, poured the whole contents of his purse upon the table, and left as suddenly as he had entered.'

"As he was walking toward the wharf a wounded negro soldier came up to him bitterly lamenting that he had no means with which to get to New York. The baron borrowed a dollar, handed it to the negro, hailed a sloop, and put him on board. 'G.o.d Almighty bless you, baron!' said the negro as Steuben walked away. Many such stories could be told of the kind-hearted baron."

"What a shame that Congress did not keep the promise it made him when he first came over here!" exclaimed Lucilla.

"Yes; it was a great shame," acknowledged her father; "however, after seven years of delay they allowed him a pension of $2400. Then he retired to his land; he had a whole township near Utica, N. Y. He cleared sixty acres of that, built a loghouse upon it, and made his home there for the rest of his life; though he went to New York every winter. On the 22d of November, 1795, he was making preparation for that yearly visit, when he was stricken with paralysis. Three days afterward he died. In accordance with directions which he had given, he was buried near his house, with his military cloak around him and the star of honor that he always wore on his breast."

"Ah, the dear, good man! I hope he is reaping a great reward in the other world," said Sydney.

"A wish which I think we can all echo from our hearts," responded Grandma Elsie.

CHAPTER VI.

"We have had a nice day--a very nice one, I think," remarked Elsie Raymond, as they sat on the deck of the _Dolphin_ pursuing their homeward way.

"Where are you going to take us to-morrow, papa?"

"That is a question for the majority of the older people to decide,"

replied the captain, softly stroking her curls--for she was seated upon his knee--and smiling down affectionately into her eyes.

"That means grandma and mamma, and uncle and aunt, I suppose," said the little girl, looking round inquiringly upon them. "Please, dear, good folks, won't you all say what you want?"

"I think we would all be satisfied to go to any one of the many interesting spots on the banks of this beautiful river," replied Grandma Elsie.

"As I do," said Mrs. Leland, "but, since a choice has to be made, I propose that--if no one prefers any other place--we go to West Point to-morrow."

That motion was put to vote, and the decision given in its favor was unanimous.

"Thinking of going there reminds me of Arnold and his treachery,"

remarked Lucilla. "Can't we go and see the Robinson House, on the other side of the river, papa?"

"I don't know that visitors are admitted to the mansion now, but we can drive past and view the outside and the grounds," replied the captain. "The house is now called Beverly, the dock from which Arnold made his escape Beverly Dock."

"He got into a boat, papa?" asked Neddie.

"Yes; into his barge, which conveyed him to the British ship _Vulture_."

"Oh, can't you tell us the whole story of it now, papa, and let us go to the place to-morrow?"

"That might be possible," returned the captain, "if no one objects to hearing a rehearsal of the old story."

No one had any objection, and the captain proceeded with the narrative.

"Arnold was a brave, daring, and successful soldier in the Revolutionary War; one who did and suffered a great deal to win his country's freedom, and perhaps if he had been treated with perfect justice he might never have turned traitor. He was badly treated by Congress and by Gates. After that he got into serious trouble through his own reckless extravagance. He was deeply in debt and ready to do almost anything for money. He had married into a Tory family, too, and perhaps they had an influence in lessening his love for the cause of freedom and making him willing to betray his country for the money he coveted--for filthy lucre. He learned that Sir Henry Clinton so coveted West Point that almost any sum of money and any honors would be given the man who should enable the British to get possession of that post. He pondered the matter, and resolved to do the dastardly deed if possible. He had been declining active service on the plea that his wounds rendered him unfit for riding on horseback. But now his wounds healed rapidly, his patriotism was freshly aroused, and he was eager to again serve his bleeding country.

"It was in that way he talked to his friends in Congress,--General Schuyler and others,--men who, he knew, had influence with Washington.

He also prevailed upon Robert R. Livingston--a member of Congress--to write to Washington and suggest the giving of the command of West Point to Arnold.

"Then, under the pretence of having private business in Connecticut, he went there, pa.s.sing through the camp and paying his respects to Washington on the way. But he said nothing about his wish to be appointed to the command at West Point until he again called on his return; then he suggested to Washington that on rejoining the army he would like that post, as suited to his feelings and the state of his health.