Erskine Dale-Pioneer Part 19

"I'd be captured if I stayed here--"

"All I keer 'bout is my chile in dar--"

"But we'll drive out the redcoats and the whitecoats and I'll come straight here--"

"An' all de men folks leavin' her heah wid n.o.body but black Ephraim an'

her ole Mammy." The old woman stopped her fiery harangue to listen:

"Dar now, heah dat? My chile hollerin' fer her ole Mammy." She turned her unwieldy body toward the faint cry that Erskine's heart heard better than his ears, and Erskine hurried away.

"Ephraim," he said as he swung upon Firefly, "you and Mammy keep a close watch, and if I'm needed here, come for me yourself and come fast."

"Ya.s.suh. Ma.r.s.e Grey is sutn'ly up to some devilmint no which side he fightin' fer. I got a gal oveh on the aige o' de Grey plantation an' she tel' me dat Ma.r.s.e Dane Grey don't wear dat white uniform all de time."

"What's that-what's that?" asked Erskine.

"No, suh. She say he got an udder uniform, same as yose, an' he keeps it at her uncle Sam's cabin an' she's seed him go dar in white an' come out in our uniform, an' al'ays at night, Ma.r.s.e Erskine-al'ays at night."

The negro c.o.c.ked his ear suddenly:

"Take to de woods quick, Ma.r.s.e Erskine. Horses comin' down the road."

But the sound of coming hoof-beats had reached the woodsman's ears some seconds before the black man heard them, and already Erskine had wheeled away. And Ephraim saw Firefly skim along the edge of a blackened meadow behind its hedge of low trees.

"Gawd!" said the black boy, and he stood watching the road. A band of white-coated troopers was coming in a cloud of dust, and at the head of them rode Dane Grey.

"Has Captain Erskine Dale been here?" he demanded.

Ephraim had his own reason for being on the good side of the questioner, and did not even hesitate.

"Ya.s.suh-he jes' lef'! Dar he goes now!" With a curse Grey wheeled his troopers. At that moment Firefly, with something like the waving flight of a bluebird, was leaping the meadow fence into the woods. The black boy looked after the troopers' dust.

"Gawd!" he said again, with a grin that showed every magnificent tooth in his head. "Jest as well try to ketch a streak o' lightning." And quite undisturbed he turned to tell the news to old Mammy.

XXIV

Up the James rode Erskine, hiding in the woods by day and slipping cautiously along the sandy road by night, circling about Tarleton's camp-fires, or dashing at full speed past some careless sentinel. Often he was fired at, often chased, but with a clear road in front of him he had no fear of capture. On the third morning he came upon a ragged sentinel-an American. Ten minutes later he got his first glimpse of Lafayette, and then he was hailed joyfully by none other than Dave Yandell, Captain Dave Yandell, shorn of his woodsman's dress and panoplied in the trappings of war.

Cornwallis was coming on. The boy, he wrote, cannot escape me. But the boy-Lafayette-did, and in time pursued and forced the Englishman into a _cul-de-sac_. "I have given his lordship the disgrace of a retreat,"

said Lafayette. And so-Yorktown!

Late in August came the message that put Washington's great "soul in arms." Rochambeau had landed six thousand soldiers in Connecticut, and now Count de Gra.s.se and a French fleet had sailed for the Chesapeake.

General Washington at once resorted to camouflage. He laid out camps ostentatiously opposite New York and in plain sight of the enemy. He made a feigned attack on their posts. Rochambeau moved south and reached the Delaware before the British grasped the Yankee trick. Then it was too late. The windows of Philadelphia were filled with ladies waving handkerchiefs and crying bravoes when the tattered Continentals, their clothes thick with dust but hats plumed with sprigs of green, marched through amid their torn battle-flags and rumbling cannon. Behind followed the French in "gay white uniforms faced with green," and martial music throbbed the air. Not since poor Andre had devised the "Mischianza" festival had Philadelphia seen such a pageant. Down the Chesapeake they went in transports and were concentrated at Williamsburg before the close of September. Cornwallis had erected works against the boy, for he knew nothing of Washington and Count de Gra.s.se, nor Mad Anthony and General Nelson, who were south of the James to prevent escape into North Carolina.

"To your goodness," the boy wrote to Washington, "I am owning the most beautiful prospect I may ever behold."

Then came de Gra.s.se, who drove off the British fleet, and the mouth of the net was closed.

Cornwallis heard the cannon and sent Clinton to appeal for help, but the answer was Washington himself at the head of his army. And then the joyous march.

"'Tis our first campaign!" cried the French gayly, and the Continentals joyfully answered:

"'Tis our last!"

At Williamsburg the allies gathered, and with Washington's army came Colonel Dale, now a general, and young Captain Harry Dale, who had brought news from Philadelphia that was of great interest to Erskine Dale. In that town Dane Grey had been a close intimate of Andre, and that intimacy had been the cause of much speculation since. He had told Dave of his mother and Early Morn, and Dave had told him gravely that he must go get them after the campaign was over and bring them to the fort in Kentucky. If Early Morn still refused to come, then he must bring his mother, and he reckoned grimly that no mouth would open in a word that could offend her. Erskine also told of Red Oaks and Dane Grey, but Dave must tell nothing to the Dales-not yet, if ever.

In mid-September Washington came, and General Dale had but one chance to visit Barbara. General Dale was still weak from a wound and Barbara tried unavailingly to keep him at home. Erskine's plea that he was too busy to go with them aroused Harry's suspicions, that were confirmed by Barbara's manner and reticence, and he went bluntly to the point:

"What is the trouble, cousin, between you and Barbara?"

"Trouble?"

"Yes. You wouldn't go to Red Oaks and Barbara did not seem surprised. Is Dane Grey concerned?"

"Yes."

Harry looked searchingly at his cousin:

"I pray to G.o.d that I may soon meet him face to face."

"And I," said Erskine quietly, "pray to G.o.d that you do not-not until after I have met him first." Barbara had not told, he thought, nor should he-not yet. And Harry, after a searching look at his cousin, turned away.

They marched next morning at daybreak. At sunset of the second day they bivouacked within two miles of Yorktown and the siege began. The allied line was a crescent, with each tip resting on the water-Lafayette commanding the Americans on the right, the French on the left under Rochambeau. De Gra.s.se, with his fleet, was in the bay to cut off approach by water. Washington himself put the match to the first gun, and the mutual cannonade of three or four days began. The scene was "sublime and stupendous."

Bombsh.e.l.ls were seen "crossing each other's path in the air, and were visible in the form of a black ball by day, but in the night they appeared like a fiery meteor, with a blazing tail most beautifully brilliant. They ascended majestically from the mortar to a certain alt.i.tude and gradually descended to the spot where they were destined to execute their work of destruction. When a sh.e.l.l fell it wheeled around, burrowed, and excavated the earth to a considerable extent and, bursting, made dreadful havoc around. When they fell in the river they threw up columns of water like spouting monsters of the deep. Two British men-of-war lying in the river were struck with hot shot and set on fire, and the result was full of terrible grandeur. The sails caught and the flames ran to the tops of the masts, resembling immense torches.

One fled like a mountain of fire toward the bay and was burned to the water's edge."

General Nelson, observing that the gunners were not shooting at Nelson House because it was his own, got off his horse and directed a gun at it with his own hand. And at Washington's headquarters appeared the venerable Secretary Nelson, who had left the town with the permission of Cornwallis and now "related with a serene visage what had been the effect of our batteries." It was nearly the middle of October that the two redoubts projecting beyond the British lines and enfilading the American intrenchments were taken by storm. One redoubt was left to Lafayette and his Americans, the other to Baron de Viomenil, who claimed that his grenadiers were the men for the matter in hand. Lafayette stoutly argued the superiority of his Americans, who, led by Hamilton, carried their redoubt first with the bayonet, and sent the Frenchman an offer of help. The answer was:

"I will be in mine in five minutes." And he was, Washington watching the attack anxiously:

"The work is done and well done."

And then the surrender:

The day was the 19th of October. The victors were drawn up in two lines a mile long on the right and left of a road that ran through the autumn fields south of Yorktown. Washington stood at the head of his army on the right, Rochambeau at the head of the French on the left. Behind on both sides was a great crowd of people to watch the ceremony. Slowly out of Yorktown marched the British colors, cased drums beating a significant English air:

"The world turned topsyturvy."

Lord Cornwallis was sick. General O'Hara bore my lord's sword. As he approached, Washington saluted and pointed to General Lincoln, who had been treated with indignity at Charleston. O'Hara handed the sword to Lincoln. Lincoln at once handed it back and the surrender was over.