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CHAPTER VII

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Under Morgan we marched to Boston, and a long and weary tramp it seemed, though in comparison with later ones, I learned to look back upon it as a pleasant summer's journey. Our uniforms, patterned after Morgan's habitual dress, consisted of buckskin breeches, leggins and moccasins, a flannel shirt, over which we usually wore an unbleached linen hunting shirt, confined with a leathern belt at the waist, and a huntsman's cap on the band of which was inscribed, "Liberty or Death." From each man's belt hung a knife, a tomahawk, and a bullet pouch, and each rifleman carried in his pockets a bullet mold, and a bar of lead; across one shoulder passed the strap from which hung his powder-horn, and over the other he carried his rifle with its whittled ramrod of hickory wood.

Our uniforms, our size, and our marksmanship won for us immediate notoriety and consideration, and not many days were we permitted to be idle, though it was but comparative idleness we enjoyed, even in camp, since we were drilled two hours each morning and afternoon, and did our share of guard duty in the trenches around Boston. In our leisure hours we taught the Yankees to chew tobacco, and to mold bullets, and learned in return to rant eloquently upon liberty and natural rights in the language of Samuel Adams, and John Hancock, and to eat beans baked with hog middling.

Early in September we were ordered to join Colonel Arnold's command for a raid into Canada. In addition to our arms, ammunition, and blankets we must take turns at carrying the light canoes necessary for a part of our journey, and many miles of our way lay through the tangled undergrowth of dense forests, or across the treacherous slime of trackless bogs. It was not long before many of the men were bare footed, half naked, and weak from insufficient food; for our rifles were soon our dependence for rations, and game grew scarce as we proceeded northward. Several of the companies ate their sled dogs with relish. Morgan's men fared better than the rest, for it was our rule to share equally whatever game we killed, and we were sure to get a large proportion of all there was to be found. Moreover, our clothes, being of leather, stood the wear of the march better than the uniforms of the rest, and many of us could make rude moccasins of wolf or dog skins.

After two months of toils and privations such as I wonder now we were able to endure, we reached Quebec with but seven hundred of the thousand men with whom we had started from Boston. In response to Arnold's daring summons to fight or surrender, the garrison shut the city's gates in our faces, and we were compelled to lie in our trenches, and wait for General Montgomery's reinforcements. On the last day of December, 1775, in the midst of a blinding snow storm, we attacked Quebec. General Montgomery soon received the bullet that ended his career, and Colonel Arnold was wounded shortly after. But for these two untoward misfortunes, I truly believe we had won the day, and over all Canada and all British America would now be waving the Stars and Stripes. Be that as it may, we riflemen came very near to taking Quebec alone and unsupported, for Morgan took the battery opposed to him, and penetrated to the very center of the town. Meanwhile, General Montgomery's troops, broken and disorganized for lack of a leader, and Arnold's, in like case, were falling back; our opponents were left free to concentrate their forces upon us, so that, after a fierce resistance, we were completely surrounded, outnumbered, and compelled to surrender.

We lay in prison at Quebec for nine long months, treated with as much kindness as is usually accorded to prisoners of war, but chafing like wild animals in a cage. Captain Morgan told me of the offer, made to him by one of the garrison officers, that he should be made a colonel in the British army, if he would but desert "a doomed and hopeless cause," and of the hot reply he made.

"Sir, I scorn your proposition, and I trust that you will never again insult me in my present distressed and unfortunate condition, by making me an offer which plainly implies that you consider me a scoundrel."

At last we were discharged, Captain Morgan on parole, and were carried in transports to New York. I saw Morgan as he stepped off the boat, in the brilliant light of a harvest moon, stoop and kiss the soil, and heard him whisper in a sort of ecstasy, "My country, my country!" My own heart swelled within me, and I could have done likewise with full meaning.

Great things, of which we had heard but vague rumors, had happened in our absence. Boston had been evacuated by the enemy, the attack on Fort Moultrie had failed, and the Declaration of Independence had been declared by all the thirteen States. On the other hand, General Washington had been compelled to yield New York to Howe, and to fall back to New Jersey, and England was making ready to send army after army across the ocean to conquer her rebellious colonies.

Though my term of enlistment had already expired, I could not go home in the midst of such stirring events, so I made haste to Morristown, there reënlisted, and was put to service as special courier to General Washington. And now, for the first time, I saw the man to whom all patriotic hearts turned with hope and pride. His soldierly, dignified bearing, the look of resolute, yet not arrogant self-consciousness upon his face, his courteous manner, and the perfectly controlled tone of voice in which he issued a command, or uttered a rebuke, impressed me with a confidence that made me from that hour sure of our cause. "With such leaders as Washington, Arnold and Morgan," I thought, with fervid enthusiasm and pride, "how can we fail to win?"

Not many weeks later my beloved captain, who had been exchanged, and made a colonel by act of Congress, marched into our camp with one hundred and eight recruits, most of them from the valley, at his back. I could hardly wait till he had reported at headquarters before I sought him.

"'Tis my old comrade, Donald McElroy!" he said, scarcely less moved than I. "Have you been on duty all this time, lad, with no furlough, no rest? Ah, many's the time I've told Arnold, that with ten thousand such troops as my Scotch Irish riflemen, I'd undertake to whip all the armies that could be sent to these shores."

"I believe you could do it, Colonel," answered I, "but your health, sir? Are you quite strong again?"

"Never better, lad; even my rheumatism is gone. I've been home, you know, for five months, and have had nothing but coddling from that good wife of mine. Six months more of it, and I'd have been unfitted for further service to my country. My lad, you should marry—how old are you, sir?"

"In my twenty-third year, Colonel, but as yet I have had no time to look for a wife," and I blushed like a lass.

"There's yet time enough, without doubt, but a man needs a wife to keep him from mischief—especially a soldier. I was but a half tamed animal till Abigail took me in training; ever since I have lived the life of a gentleman, I hope, and been as happy as a lord. You deserve a good wife, Donald, and I shall help you to find one, sir."

Despite the embarrassment which such personal interest caused me, I was greatly pleased to be so noticed by my colonel, and when, a few days later, he sent for me to tell me that he had named me as one of the captains who were to command the eight companies of which his regiment would be composed, I was filled with such joy and pride as I have since experienced but once—and then upon a very different occasion.

"Donald, lad," said Colonel Morgan, standing at the door of my tent on an April morning, when the sweet scents and cheerful sounds of early spring had started a longing in my heart for a look at our valley, "I've a secret for your ear, and an expedition to propose to you."

"Come in, Colonel," said I, smiling with pleasure of his visit, and offering my one chair; "I'll be proud to know the secret, and I promise to keep it well."

"We are shortly to be ordered North to join General Gates, who is to check the advance of General Burgoyne upon New York, if possible, and we'll see active service, and mayhap a big battle or two, at last. Meantime I'm riding home on ten days' furlough, to say good-by to Abigail, and would you ride with me, I'll grant you leave to go."

"Your invitation is an honor I much appreciate, Colonel, and it will give me pleasure to go."

"Then be ready, by sun up."

It was about ten o'clock at night, and our horses were stiff jointed, and without spirit, after three days' hard traveling, when we rode through the double gates that opened into the driveway circling the lawn of "Soldier's Rest"—Colonel Morgan's home in Frederick County. The spacious brick house with its columned porch was in darkness, save for one brightly lighted room on the left, and a single candle burning in the hall. Colonel Morgan's spurs and sword clanked noisily on the bare floor of the hallway, and he called to me, in hearty tones, "Come on, lad! we'll find Abigail in the red room." As he spoke the door flew open, warmth and light streamed forth to meet us, and also the sweet tones of a woman's voice in eager greeting.

"Well, Dan'l! what good fortune brought you back so soon? Oh, but it is good to see your dear face again!" I hung back in the shadow, with a lump in my throat, while Mrs. Morgan laid her head on her husband's breast, and was for a moment clasped in his arms.

"Captain McElroy is with me, Abigail," said the Colonel. "Where are you, Donald?"

"Here, Colonel," said I, stepping into the light.

"It is a pleasure to welcome you to our home, Captain McElroy," in Mrs. Morgan's kind tones. "I've heard the Colonel speak of you, and of your family; walk in, and be resting while I have supper served; you are both hungry and tired, I am sure."

"That we are, Abigail," and the Colonel set me the example of divesting himself of muddy leggins, spurs, and top coat—"The smell of your coffee and fried ham has been in my nostrils for two hours past. Donald, she's the best housekeeper in the Old Dominion," and he smiled proudly upon the round, comely, beaming little woman, who, as I soon discovered, deserved all his praise, for she was equal to my own mother as housewife.

As I followed Mrs. Morgan into the living room, which was brightly lighted by half a dozen candles in brass candle-sticks with crystal pendants, and a pile of roaring logs upon the hearth, I realized suddenly the presence of a very pretty young woman sitting beside a candle stand, on one side of the fire place, with a piece of needle work in her hands. She looked up as we entered, then dropped her eyes again to her work.

"Colonel Morgan, this is my cousin, Nelly Buford, and this is Captain McElroy, Nelly."

The young lady rose, dropped me a graceful courtesy, then turned and held out her hand to Colonel Morgan.

"You do not remember me, Cousin Daniel, but I well recall you, and the day you came to our house to see Cousin Abigail. I had heard of you as a famous Indian fighter, and I peeped at you through the half open door, expecting to see a string of scalps around your waist."

"I had no eyes nor ears then for any woman save Abigail," replied Colonel Morgan, shaking her hand in his hearty fashion, "but I'll never forget your pretty face again, Cousin Nelly—be sure of that."

She laughed merrily, and her ease of manner indicated that she was as much used to pretty speeches as she deserved them. There was a witchery in her laughing hazel eyes, in the curves of her saucy, full lipped mouth, in the very tendrils of blonde hair which looped and ringed in riotous fashion about the small pink ears, and low, white brow, which few men tried to resist. Before we retired that night, I was completely fascinated. I lay wide awake in spite of my weariness until past midnight, recalling each curve of her pretty, piquant face, each modulation of her cooing voice; and then I set over against her many charms my own awkwardness, the boorishness of my manners, and my ignorance of everything except camp life and public topics. I longed ardently for that polish of manner, and that faculty of polite conversation I had heretofore esteemed so lightly.

There were no girls in our neighborhood near my own age, and I had known scarcely any other women besides those of our own family, and the matrons of our church congregation. I had grown up, therefore, like a maiden, with no temptations, and small knowledge of passion, and later my mind had been so fully occupied with hunting, studying, Indians, and public matters, that all the vanities and snares of youth had passed me by. But nature is not easily starved into subserviency, and upon the first opportunity takes vengeance for former neglect by more violent and unreasoning possession.

So madly in love was I with Nelly Buford before another sunset that all my past was forgotten, and all my future weighed as naught. I cared for nothing, wished for nothing but to be with her; had no dream or ambition beyond pleasing her. I blushed when she spoke to me, trembled if her hand or her dress touched me, and could scarcely refrain from kissing the handkerchief she now and then let fall, and which I restored to her with a sense of proud privilege. I scarcely heard the remarks of Mrs. and Colonel Morgan, but every word Nelly spoke was registered in my mind and conned over and over like a lesson. When they left me alone with her, as they often did—for they were daily going about the place together, to take counsel as to its management during the Colonel's absence—I experienced a sort of ecstasy which made my blood surge through my brains, and my heart flutter as if I were frightened.

Nor was Miss Nelly slow to perceive my infatuation, or so little woman as to fail to take pleasure in it. I think she beguiled me, indeed, with an audacity she would not have dared to use toward a youth more worldly wise, or more experienced in the emotions of the heart. I recall one instance which will illustrate the coquetry which she practiced for my deeper ensnaring. We were walking through the orchard flush with bloom, when she stopped beneath a low boughed apple tree, and asked me to pluck a spray for her, then twisted it into a wreath, and laughingly bade me crown her queen of May. I took the wreath from her fingers, and would have dropped it awkwardly upon her blonde curls almost two feet below me, but she stopped me with a merry laugh, and said in playful tones,

"How stupid you are! The queen must be enthroned before she is crowned. Help me to a seat upon this curving limb, and then I'll be just high enough for you to lay the crown upon my sacred head, with due reverence and solemnity."

I lifted her to the bough she indicated, and when she had settled herself gracefully, and said with pretty affectation of dignity, "Now, Sir Knight, the Queen awaits your service," I laid the floral wreath carefully upon the bright curls, and would have stepped back to admire its effect, only something in the eyes that met mine, and the perfume breathing lips, which were on a level with my own, made my head reel, the blood surge in my ears, and many colored motes float between me and the canopy of blossom bending over us. In another instant I had kissed her full upon the lips, and then emboldened by their touch, I threw my arms about her, and kissed her again and again, upon brow, cheek, eyes and lips, paying no heed to her commands, and only desisting when she began tearfully to entreat me.

Donald McElroy, Scotch Irishman

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