University of Virginia Library

9. CHAPTER THE NINTH.
THE COUNCIL.

The hills and vales of the Wissahikon slept in
the silence of midnight, when a solitary horseman
issued from the mass of forest trees, near the
Haunted House, and taking his way across an
intervening field, presently reined in his steed along
the front of the mansion.

It was a small, one storied building, marked by
a style of architecture which mingled the steep,
gable-ended roof of a cottage, with the high and
pointed windows of the Gothic order; while the
eves of the mansion were heavy with carved work,
the window frames were decorated with quaint
devices in wood, the numerous chimneys by which
it was surmounted seemed as much contrived for
ornament as use, and the general air and appearance
of the place, indicated that it might have
been the abode of some wealthy admirer of the
country, who had here fixed himself a home amid
the solitude and shade of the woods. It was situated
on a gentle eminence approached by steps of
stone, built in the grassy bank, and the limited lawn
which sloped from three sides of the picturesque

edifice, was terminated by a pleasant grove of
horse-chestnut trees, giving an air of seclusion to
the spot, while the ground in the rear was occupied
by a garden, once agreeably diversified with flowers,
but now overgrown and choked by weeds. The
edifice had, in fact, been the summer abode of a
wealthy English merchant of Philadelphia, who
was scared from its precincts by the noise and confusion
of war. Deserted by its proprietor, the
mansion had fallen into partial decay, and was
alternately occupied by marauding parties of the
American and British armies, who not unfrequently
awoke the echoes of its quiet walls, with sounds of
mirth and revelry, which, perchance, was the occasion
of its name—the Haunted House—the songs
and yells of the drunken troopers being mistaken
by the surrounding farmers for the cries and shrieks
of spirits of the unreal world.

As the horseman halted in front of the Haunted
House, a figure, attired in the uniform of the Black
Rangers, advanced from the shade of the horse-chestnut
trees, exclaiming—

“Well, Capt'in, is that you? Dennis and Leftenant
Heft has just come in—I was afeared something
mought a-happened to you.”

“Aye, Sergeant, I am back again without harm
or injury. But tell me—has the commander-in-chief
arrived? If my eyes do not deceive me,
those dusky masses, scattered across the fields yonder,

are the American troops, and the glimmer of
their arms in the starlight shows that they are
ready for action at a moment's warning.”

“Gineral Washington has arrived”—replied the
Sergeant—“and the Black Rangers are honored
with the post of `Guard around the Haunted
House.' But with regard to the information,
gathered to-night by the Rangers—”

Having been put in possession of this information,
Herbert sprung from his horse, and was
admitted by a sentinel into the front chamber of
the mansion, where a glaring light, burning upon
a large oaken table, discovered the figures of a
number of officers, of various ranks and grades,
attired in the blue and buff uniform of the Continental
service.

“It will be advisable to begin the attack before
sunrise to-morrow morning”—exclaimed the officer
who sat at the head of the table, as Captain Tracy
entered. “This is the plan of battle agreed upon,”
he continued, laying his hand upon an unrolled
chart which was spread open upon the table—“the
divisions of Generals Sullivan and Wayne, flanked
by the brigade of General Conway, will enter
the village of Germantown, and commence the
attack, with the light infantry of the enemy who
are posted at Allen's House, at some three miles
distance from this place.—Ah! Captain Tracy, I

am glad to welcome you back; how have you succeeded
in your mission?”

Herbert proceeded as briefly as possible to relate
to the Commander-in-chief, the various facts in his
possession relative to the force, numbers, and position
of the enemy.

“The British line of encampment crosses the
village of Germantown at right angles,” said Herbert,
“near the centre. The left wing extends
from the main road, across the irregular and inclosed
grounds of the various farmers, over the
Wissahikon along to the river Schuylkill. It is
covered in front, by mounted and dismounted
chasseurs, and the right which extends eastward
toward the Delaware, is defended in front by the
Queen's American Rangers and a battalion of
light infantry. The 40th regiment, under the
command of Lieutenant Col. Musgrave, is posted
nearly a mile in advance of the main line, between
Chew's House and Chestnut Hill, and a battalion
of light infantry, occupies the summit of the hill,
three miles in advance of this spot.”

“Your information, Captain Tracy,” said the
Commander-in-chief, “agrees, in every essential
point, with the data already in my possession. So,
gentlemen, our original plan of battle holds good.
While the divisions of Generals Wayne and Sullivan
enter the village by way of Chestnut Hill, the divisions
of Greene and Stephens, flanked by McDougall's

brigade, will take a circuit along the Limekiln
Road, some two miles eastward from Chew's
House, and attack the enemy's right wing. The
militia of Maryland and New Jersey, under command
of Generals Smallwood and Forman, will
march down the Old York Road, which lies three
miles to the east of the Limekiln Road, and engage
with the rear of the right. General Armstrong's
Pennsylvania brigade will attack the enemy's left
at Vanduring's Mill, at the junction of the Wissahikon
with the Schuylkill. Think you, Captain
Tracy, that we shall be able to surprise the
enemy?”

“I think the movement might be effected with
care and celerity, your Excellency.”

A shade of thought came over the noble brow of
the Commander-in-chief, and he leaned his head
musingly upon his hand for an instant.

“Gentlemen,” he exclaimed, after the pause of a
moment, “I need not tell you that every thing depends
upon the suddenness and secresy of our movements.
If we surprise the enemy, we shall terminate
this disastrous war, and win the best of all
boons, our country's Independence; if the enemy
are on the alert, and ready to receive us, it is more
than probable that the superior discipline of his
troops will triumph over the irregular bravery and
undisciplined courage of a great portion of the
army which I have the honor to command. What
think ye, gentlemen?”

And as each hardy veteran or brave aspirant
gave his opinion, the scene assumed an appearance
of interest, which told the deep and fixed determination
of the American commanders, never to lay
down the swords which they had so gallantly unsheathed,
until the independence of their common
country was achieved.

The glaring light of the lamps, placed in the
centre of the oaken table, cast a ruddy glow upon
the faces and forms that clustered round the Commander-in-chief.
His face so calm, so mild, and
yet so full of that native dignity of expression,
which tells of a mind formed to rule, was shown
in the boldest light and strongest shade, as he
turned from one brave man to another, to receive
their opinions and suggestions on the coming contest.
There was the towering form, and bold and
open countenance of Wayne, whose sword-thrust
never failed, and whose charge mowed the enemy's
ranks, like the scathings of an earth-riven thunderbolt;
there was the gallant Knox, with his bluff,
honest visage, every line beaming good humor, and
dignified by an expression of determined courage;
there was the sagacious Greene, whose counsels
were as full of wisdom as his sword was sure, and
his mind clear and self-possessed in the hour of
mortal conflict; and there gathered around the man
upon whose shoulders heaven had placed the destiny
of his country, were the brave men, who

flocked from every hill and vale of the continent,
from foreign lands, from the misrule of despotism
in every part of oppressed Europe, from the hearth
sides of their infancy, and the homes of their manhood,
and thronged in one gallant band around the
banner of freedom,—there they stood with their
good swords that had tasted blood in many a battle
girded to their sides, with their noble visages marked
by scars, and darkened by the toil and exposure
of battle, and with hearts as true and bold as ever
beat in the bosom of the most chivalric knight or
daring warrior of the age of gallant deeds and generous
warfare.

And standing by the side of Washington, was a
young soldier, whose form was moulded with all
the symmetry of manly beauty, whose cheek was
yet warm with the bloom of early youth, and
whose piercing eye and high forehead, with its bold
outline, indicative of the highest order of mind,
gave rich promise of the mature man, whose words
of burning eloquence, were, in future years, to fall
like the revealings of a seer on the ears of his countrymen.

Washington, ever and anon, would incline his
head to Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton, and listen to
the suggestions he offered, with an interest of
which older men might have been proud, or invite
his opinion with an eagerness that showed how
strong a hold the young soldier had attained in the

heart of his commander. Little did the father of
his country think of the future fate of the aspiring
soldier! Little did he imagine that the youthful
form by his side, would survive the perils of war,
to die after the quietude of peace had succeeded to
the strife of battle, in an inglorious combat, the
fruit of a participation in the scenes of political
conflict!

The council lasted until an hour after midnight,
when the plan of operations for the succeeding day
being resolved upon, the various officers retired to
their different commands, to snatch such hasty
repose as the lateness of the hour might allow, and
to make such arrangements for the coming conflict
as might tend to ensure success to the American
arms.

And under the broad canopy of Heaven, unsheltered
from the dews and damps of the night air by
covering or tent, slept the brave soldiers of the
American host, as soundly, as securely, as though
the coming morn was to bring scenes of peace
and quietness, instead of the turmoil and bloodshed
of battle.

As Herbert Tracy stood gazing upon the scene
around, from the elevation of the Haunted House;
as his eye wandered from the vast dome of the heavens
above, hung with a million stars, to the landscape,
with its hills covered with forests, its cultivated
valleys, and its level fields, along which were

scattered the masses of the Continental army, the
thought of the coming contest, and the fearful effects
it might produce, flashed like a meteor-light
across his mind.

“How many a brave heart that now beats warmly,
will to-morrow night be cold and torpid under
the freezing touch of death! Many a noble form
will measure out the hasty grave of the battle field
—many an eye will be dimmed—many a hand
stiffened, and many an arm unnerved—but come
success or come defeat, for me will remain the
same forbidding destiny, over my head will lower
the same dark cloud, heavy with the lightnings of
a father's curse!”