Chapter XV

SHOWS HOW EZRA CARRIED THE NEWS OF THE BATTLE, AND HOW HE MET GENERAL WASHINGTON BY THE WAY

After the desperate struggle upon Breed’s Hill the two armies lay upon their different eminences, breathlessly regarding each other; they still held their arms ready, for they each dreaded what the other might do; but there was no movement to continue the battle upon either side; and so the last hours of daylight wore on.

Ezra Prentiss and Nat Brewster were with Colonel Prescott almost all the time since the retreat had ceased. Their hearts were heavy when they learned of Dr. Warren’s death; for where would such another be found as he? That there were other great men in the colonies, they knew well; but none were quite so human, so entirely unselfish, so absolutely devoted to the public good as this patriot who still lay upon the hillside, his face turned to the sky.

They sat upon a settle in the wide hall of the house in which Prescott made his headquarters, and talked the sad news over in mournful undertones. Through an open doorway they could see the colonel pacing up and down, his face darkened with anger, his lips pressed tightly together.

“The result seems to set heavily upon him,” said Nat, at length. “See how his hands are clenched; and he has not even brushed the dust of the fight from his clothes.”

Ezra looked at the colonel’s lowered head and burning eyes.

“I have no doubt,” said the young New Englander, “that there is nothing in the world that he would welcome so much as a renewal of the engagement. He had the battle won, but for the lack of powder and the reinforcements that were so delayed and confused.”

They continued to talk in low tones for a time; then suddenly Colonel Prescott’s tramping ceased. He had paused in the centre of the room, and as the boys’ eyes went to him once more, they found that he was looking toward them.

“Prentiss,” said the colonel, with the manner of one who had finally made up his mind to something, “ask them to bring me my horse.”

Ezra saluted, and went quickly out. A few moments later the clatter of hoofs sounded upon the pavement, and Prescott, as he snatched up his hat, gestured Nat to follow.

Not only was Colonel Prescott’s mount awaiting him, but a little behind it stood the raw-boned black which Nat Brewster had ridden ever since leaving Philadelphia the fall before. Beside this again was a hardy looking, flea-bitten gray of visible quality which Ezra had bought of a horse dealer in the camp to replace the tall bay which, for all he knew, still stood in the barn at the “Indian’s Head.”

All three mounted, and Prescott headed at once for General Ward’s headquarters. The sun had but a short time to keep its rim above the west; indeed, in sheltered places, the shadows had grown long and were thickening into dusk.

The colonel was admitted at once to the general’s presence; and the boys remained in an anteroom, which was crowded with officers and persons of consequence, all eager to hear the news of what was to be done on the morrow.

General Ward’s room was also thronged, and business was being dispatched hurriedly. The hangings of the doorway were drawn because of the heat of the evening, and all that was said and done was plain to those in the anteroom. A light breeze was blowing through the house; and some lights, already burning in tall silver candlesticks, leaped agitatedly, throwing quavering shadows upon the stern faces of the fighting-men gathered about.

With one accord, all fell back from the table at which General Ward sat, upon the appearance of Colonel Prescott. As the commander of the force at the summit of the hill, they at once gave him place.

“General,” and Colonel Prescott saluted grimly, “I have come to make my report upon the engagement fought to-day in the neighborhood of Charlestown.”

He placed a closely written paper upon the table as he spoke, and then stood back a pace.

General Ward took up the paper and sat running his thumb and forefinger along its folds; but he did not open it.

“What has happened,” said he, “is of course already known to me. All who witnessed your work to-day join in praising it; it seems the universal opinion that no man could have done more. If you were driven from your position——”

Colonel Prescott’s hand went up and his flashing eyes swept the room.

“If I lost my position,” said he, “it was not because my men and I were not willing to hold it to the last. It was because of the neglect of some whose duty it was to lend me help. Another thing,” and he advanced to the table, his hand falling upon it with force, “give me fifteen hundred men to-night, with powder and ball and bayonets, and I will have recovered Breed’s Hill for you by sunrise to-morrow.”

A thrill ran through Ezra at these words. There was no doubting but that the aroused man meant them and stood ready to carry them out. But General Ward was too conservative a soldier to harken to any such daring plan.

“The risk would be too great,” said he. “We must not waste our strength. To-day we have lost above four hundred men. If Howe were to order an advance we could scarcely hope to hold him in check.”

“He has lost three times as many as we,” returned Prescott; “and we need have no fear of his attacking us again, just yet.”

Then some one else broke in, and the conversation in a moment became almost general. Plans were suggested and debated; the raising of men, money and ammunition engrossed every one.

When Colonel Prescott was leaving, General Ward arose, shook his hand warmly and thanked him for his services in the name of the colonies. Coming with him to the door of the anteroom his eyes fell upon Ezra and Nat, and his face lighted up.

“Here are the very lads,” said he. “I had all but forgotten that I required the service of some ready riders, and at once.”

The two boys stood forward and saluted.

“There is a dispatch, all ready,” said General Ward to Prescott, “for the Congress at Philadelphia, giving a brief account of to-day’s engagement. If you can spare these lads, and if they are not too weary with their work of to-day,” with a smile at the two, “there are none that I would rather send upon the mission.”

Prescott turned and looked at Ezra and Nat; their eager looks caused a smile to appear upon his stern face.

“They will carry the dispatch,” he said, briefly.

“I shall require it to go to-night,” said the general to the lads.

He was a thoughtful man; knowing that they had been in the thick of the fight, he hesitated about burdening them with this long journey without their having had a chance to rest.

“Our horses are at the door,” said Ezra, promptly. “We are ready to go at once.”

So they remained after Colonel Prescott had departed. Soon the dispatch of the colonial commander was placed in Ezra’s hands; their instructions were brief; then they mounted and rode swiftly away upon their journey through the deepening dusk.

“We should sleep at Framingham to-night,” said Ezra.

“We made the complete journey once in seven days,” answered Nat. “And this time we should not be behind that.”

A farmhouse was their first halt; and the good people were eager to do all they could for them when they heard who they were. It was the same through all of Massachusetts and Connecticut. Innkeepers gave them their best attention; hostlers looked to their horses with unexampled solicitude; the townspeople gathered about them burning to hear the news from the lips of the lads who had been in the battle.

They reached New York, where they attracted great attention, crowds thronging the streets to watch their progress; then they crossed the Hudson and began pushing their way across the level Jerseys. They had gone a half day’s ride over the sandy roads; it was a little past noon when they came to a fine, old, tree-shaded house, with broad fields, green with the spring’s planting, beautiful orchards and a generally prosperous look.

“Now this,” spoke Nat, good-humoredly, “is a likely sort of place for two wayfarers to alight and beseech entertainment. The people who live here could provide good food and in plenty, if appearances go for anything.”

They dismounted at the open gate and tied their horses to the fence. A small dog, hearing their footsteps upon the path, ran toward them with a great ado of barking; this brought forward a very small boy, who stood before them, his freckled face turned up inquiringly.

“Do you want my father?” asked he.

Ezra smiled down at the child.

“Perhaps so,” said he. “Is this your father’s place?”

The boy swept a small hand to all four points of the compass.

“All of it,” answered he. Then confidentially, “And he’s going to get more.”

“Good for him,” laughed Nat, “and so now run off and ask him if he can see two riders who are on their way to Philadelphia.”

The child pursed up his mouth.

“He is engaged,” spoke he, wisely. “Some gentlemen stopped a while ago. They are having dinner, and one of them is a general.”

The young continentals looked at one another.

“What’s his name?” inquired Ezra.

“General Wash’ton,” answered the child promptly.

Again the lads’ eyes sought each other in mute question; and a thrill ran through them both. They recalled the tall, athletic Virginian who had sat his horse so well in Philadelphia’s streets; they remembered the calm, handsome face, so highly bred and yet so powerful; they recalled the outspoken admiration of the citizens, the great esteem of his fellow members of the First Congress.

“Can it be,” said Ezra, “that Washington of Virginia has been chosen commander-in-chief by the Continental Congress!”

“If he has,” replied Nat Brewster, all excitement, “they have done excellently for the colonies. There is no nobler man in all America; and from all accounts, he is a born soldier.”

The small boy disappeared into the house while they were speaking; but the small dog remained, sniffing suspiciously and occasionally growling for them to keep their distance. And while they were smiling at the self-importance of the little beast, there came a full-toned voice saying:

“I had not thought, Mr. Clark, to see so fine a farm in the Jerseys. It is splendid. And as I come from Virginia, where the plantations approach the extent of principalities, I may say that I am a judge.”

There were footsteps upon the wide verandah which ran about the house; and turning in the direction of the sound, the boys saw a party of gentlemen. Nat’s eyes instantly sought out the speaker, and at a glance he recognized the tall, strong frame and the lofty face.

And almost at the same moment the eyes of the great Virginian caught sight of the boy.

“Hah!” cried he, taking a step forward, “here is some one I think I know, Mr. Clark.”

“They are strangers to me, general,” spoke the rich farmer, staring at the boys. “Travelers perhaps, young gentlemen?” addressing them.

“On our way to Philadelphia,” said Ezra, as Nat stepped upon the verandah and grasped the cordially extended hand of Washington.

Nat had done Washington a splendid service just outside of Philadelphia some ten months before, and as the Virginian seldom forgot a face, and never a service, his hand grasp was warm and firm.

“I am glad to see you. And so,” with a look at Ezra, “you are on your way to Philadelphia?”

“Yes, general.”

Washington smiled a little.

“Why,” said he, “my new title seems to run before me like a forest fire. But,” inquiringly, “may I ask from what direction you travel?”

“We left Cambridge in Massachusetts some five days ago,” replied Nat.

An eager light came into the eyes of the commander-in-chief.

“What news?” asked he.

“A battle has been fought,” said Nat.

Instantly the lad was encircled by a ring of anxious faces.

“And the result?” Washington’s voice was entirely without excitement.

“The British were victorious.”

A sort of groan went up from the little party of gentlemen. And it was here that Ezra Prentiss spoke eagerly.

“We are bearing General Ward’s report of the fight to Congress. And though the British did drive us back, we twice repulsed them. We would have done so the third time had not our powder run out. As it stands, they lost a thousand men and do not dare advance beyond the ground they won.”

The gloom which settled upon the face of Washington at Nat Brewster’s words vanished at those of Ezra Prentiss.

“The militia?” he asked, his hand upon the boy’s shoulder. “How did they hold themselves under fire?”

“Bravely,” returned Ezra. “As long as they could fire back they showed fear of neither cannon-shot nor musketry.”

“That is all I wish to know,” exclaimed the commander-in-chief. “The cause of liberty is safe.”

The others then burst in with anxious and excited questions. Even during the dinner which the bountiful Mr. Clark sat the boys down to in a long, shaded room did not stop this flow of interrogations. Both were forced to answer as best they could between mouthfuls, but they did so with enthusiasm, for they were as full of the matter as their questioners.

General Washington sat alone upon the verandah while the boys ate; his eyes were fixed upon the broad, fertile fields and his expression was rapt. Perhaps he saw the future, when he should retreat with a shattered army across the Jerseys, the wolf-pack of the enemy close behind him. And behind them again, the countryside in ruins!

But when the lads came out he arose.

“Mr. Clark,” said he, “you have been kind, and I thank you. And now, if you will have them bring out our horses, we will be on our way toward New York.”

The farmer sent some of his people to do as asked; then the general turned to the boys.

“I am about to send a messenger back to Philadelphia with some suggestions to Congress which this news of yours has called forth,” said he, “and if you are so inclined, the message of General Ward shall be sent by him.”

The boys hesitated a moment.

“General,” said Ezra, finally, “there is nothing that would please us better than to ride with you back to Cambridge, but——”

Washington smiled.

“If it would please you,” said he, “then you shall do it. As your officer, I direct you to turn over your dispatches to this gentleman,” indicating a young man who stood seemingly ready to depart.

Promptly Ezra drew out General Ward’s dispatch and handed it to the rider. In a few moments they saw him dashing away through the dust to the southward; and in a very few more they were heading north toward the theatre of war at the side of General Washington.