Part 10 (2/2)
Francisco rushed on the muzzle of the gun. A short struggle ensued, in which the British soldier was disarmed and wounded. Tarleton's troop of four hundred men were in sight. All was hurry and confusion, which Francisco increased by repeatedly hallooing, as loud as he could, 'Come on, my brave boys! now's your time! we will soon despatch these few, and then attack the main body!' The wounded man flew to the troop; the others were panic-struck, and fled. Francisco seized Wand, and would have despatched him, but the poor wretch begged for his life; he was not only an object of contempt, but pity. The eight horses that were left behind, he gave him to conceal. Discovering Tarleton had despatched ten more in pursuit of him, Francisco then made off, and evaded their vigilance. They stopped to refresh themselves, and he, like an old fox, doubled, and fell on their rear. He went the next day to Wand for his horses; Wand demanded two for his trouble and generous intentions.
Finding his situation dangerous, and surrounded by enemies where he ought to have found friends, Francisco went off with his six horses. He intended to have avenged himself on Wand at a future day, but Providence ordained he should not be his executioner, for he broke his neck by a fall from of the very horses.”
”Francisco displayed great courage, daring and presence of mind in that sc.r.a.pe,” observed Kinnison. ”But I have heard of several encounters quite equal to it.”
”Yes, Francisco displayed great presence of mind, and that's the most valuable quality of a soldier--it will save him when courage and strength are palsied. Francisco performed many singular exploits down South, and had a high reputation. He had much of the dare-devil in his nature, and it seemed as if dangerous adventures agreed with him better than easy success. He fought bravely in several battles, and was known to many of the enemy as a man to be shunned. There wasn't a man among the red-coats stout-hearted and strong-limbed enough to dare to meet him. But you said you had heard of several encounters equal to the one I just narrated,” said Pitts.
”I did,” replied Kinnison. ”Have you ever seen a painting of the fight between Colonel Allan M'Lean and some British troops? It used to be a common thing in Boston.”
”I have seen the picture,” said Hand, ”and I should like to hear the story of the affair. It must have been a desperate fight.”
”It was,” replied Kinnison. ”A man who was intimately acquainted with McLean, and heard the account from his own lips, told me of it. You may boast of Francisco's exploits, but here was a man who united the most daring courage and strength with a very intelligent and quick-working mind.”
THE EXPLOIT OF COL. ALLAN M'LEAN.
”While the British occupied Philadelphia,” said Kinnison, ”Col. M'Lean was constantly scouring the upper end of Bucks and Montgomery counties, to cut off scouting parties of the enemy and intercept their supplies of provisions.”
”Having agreed, for some purpose, to rendezvous near Shoemakertown, Col.
M'Lean ordered his little band of troopers to follow at some distance, and commanded two of them to precede the main body, but also to keep in his rear; and if they discovered an enemy, to ride up to his side and inform him of it, without speaking aloud. While leisurely approaching the place of rendezvous in this order, in the early gray of the morning, the two men directly in his rear, forgetting their orders, suddenly called out, 'Colonel, the Britis.h.!.+' faced about, and putting spurs to their horses, were soon out of sight. The colonel, looking around, discovered that he was in the centre of a powerful ambuscade, into which the enemy had silently allowed him to pa.s.s, without his observing them. They lined both sides of the road, and had been stationed there to pick up any straggling party of the Americans that might chance to pa.s.s.
Immediately on finding they were discovered, a file of soldiers rose from the side of the highway, and fired at the colonel, but without effect; and as he put spurs to his horse, and mounted the road-side into the woods, the other part of the detachment also fired. The colonel miraculously escaped; but a shot striking his horse upon the flank, he dashed through the woods, and in a few minutes reached a parallel road upon the opposite side of the forest. Being familiar with the country, he feared to turn to the left, as that course led to the city, and he might be intercepted by another ambuscade. Turning, therefore, to the right, his frightened horse carried him swiftly beyond the reach of those who had fired upon him. All at once, however, on emerging from a piece of woods, he observed several British troopers stationed near the road-side, and directly in sight ahead, a farm-house, around which he observed a whole troop of the enemy's cavalry drawn up. He dashed by the troopers near him without being molested, they believing he was on his way to the main body to surrender himself. The farm-house was situated at the intersection of two roads, presenting but a few avenues by which he could escape Nothing daunted by the formidable array before him, he galloped up to the cross-roads, on reaching which, he spurred his active horse, turned suddenly to the right, and was soon fairly out of reach of their pistols, though as he turned he heard them call loudly to surrender or die! A dozen were instantly in pursuit; but in a short time they all gave up the chase except two. Colonel M'Lean's horse, scared by the first wound he had ever received, and being a chosen animal, kept ahead for several miles, while his two pursuers followed with unwearied eagerness. The pursuit at length waxed so hot, as the colonel's horse stepped out of a small brook which crossed the road, his pursuers entered it at the opposite margin. In ascending a little hill, the horses of the three were greatly exhausted, so much so that neither could be urged faster than a walk. Occasionally, as one of the troopers pursued on a little in advance of his companion, the colonel slackened his pace, anxious to be attacked by one of the two; but no sooner was his willingness discovered, than the other fell back to his station.
They at length approached so near, that a conversation took place between them; the troopers calling out, 'Surrender, you d.a.m.n'd rebel, or we'll cut you in pieces!' Suddenly one of them rode up on the right side of the colonel, and, without drawing his sword, laid hold of the colonel's collar. The latter, to use his own words, 'had pistols which he knew he could depend upon.' Drawing one from the holster, he placed it to the heart of his antagonist, fired, and tumbled him dead on the ground. Instantly the other came on his left, with his sword drawn, and also seized the colonel by the collar of his coat. A fierce and deadly struggle here ensued, in the course of which Col. M'Lean was desperately wounded in the back of his left hand, the sword of his antagonist cutting asunder the veins and tendons. Seizing a favourable opportunity, he drew his other pistol, and with a steadiness of purpose which appeared even in his recital of the incident, placed it directly between the eyes of his adversary, pulled the trigger, and scattered his brains on every side of the road! Fearing that others were in pursuit, he abandoned his horse in the highway: and apprehensive, from his extreme weakness, that he might die from loss of blood, he crawled into an adjacent mill-pond, entirely naked, and at length succeeded in stopping the profuse flow of blood occasioned by his wound. Soon after, his men came to his relief. Now, I think, Mr. Pitts, your hero was at least equalled in Col. M'Lean.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: EXPLOIT OF COLONEL M'LEAN.]
”Beaten, beaten!” exclaimed Pitts. ”I admit that, in resolution and daring, Francisco was surpa.s.sed by M'Lean. He _was_ a hero!”
”Major Garden, in his Anecdotes of the Revolution, eulogizes McLean's courage and enterprise,” said Hand.
”If courage and resolution make up the hero, our country didn't hunger for 'em during the Revolution,” said Davenport.
”Yes, it's a difficult and nice matter to say who bears away the palm.
But I do not believe that Col. M'Lean was surpa.s.sed,” said Kinnison.
”Col. Henry Lee was a man of the same mould,” added Colson.
”Aye, he was; and that reminds me of an adventure of his which displays his courage and resolution,” replied Kinnison.
THE ADVENTURE OF MAJOR LEE.
”In the Revolution, a prison was erected at Lancaster, Pennsylvania, for those red-coats who fell into our hands. The prisoners were confined in barracks, enclosed with a stockade and vigilantly guarded; but in spite of all precautions, they often disappeared in an unaccountable manner, and nothing was heard of them until they resumed their places in the British army. It was presumed that they were aided by American tories, but where suspicion should fall, no one could conjecture. Gen. Hazen had charge of the post. He devised a stratagem for detecting the culprits, and selected Capt. Lee, afterwards Maj. Lee, a distinguished partisan officer, to carry out his plan. It was given out that Lee had left the post on furlough. He, however, having disguised himself as a British prisoner, was thrown into the prison with the others. So complete was the disguise, that even the intendant, familiar with him from long daily intercourse, did not penetrate it. Had his fellow-prisoners detected him, his history might have been embraced in the proverb, 'Dead men tell no tales.'
”For many days he remained in this situation, making no discoveries whatever. He thought he perceived at times signs of intelligence between the prisoners and an old woman who was allowed to bring fruit for sale within the enclosure: She was known to be deaf and half-witted, and was therefore no object of suspicion. It was known that her son had been disgraced and punished in the American army, but she had never betrayed any malice on that account, and no one dreamed that she could have the power to do injury if she possessed the will. Lee matched her closely, but saw nothing to confirm his suspicions. Her dwelling was about a mile distant, in a wild retreat, where she shared her miserable quarters with a dog and cat.
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