The Yankee Tea-party Part 9

"Come, Brown, more music," exclaimed Warner. "The dinner and the dull conversation makes some of us drowsy. Stir us up, man!"

"There's nothing like the fife and drum for rousing men," said Kinnison. "I hate these finnicking, soft and love-sick instruments, such as pianos, guitars and some others they play on now-a-days. There's no manliness about them."

Brown and Hanson, having produced their old martial instruments, then struck up "The Star-Spangled Banner," the best of the national anthems of America. Soon after the last roll of the fife had ended, Hand, without invitation, struck up the anthem itself, and sang the words with great force, the whole company joining in the two last lines of every verse. The music and the anthem thoroughly roused the old as well as the young members of the company, and, at its conclusion, three cheers were l.u.s.tily given for the stars and stripes. One of the young men then said that he had a song to sing, which would be new to the company; but still was not an original composition. The music was stirring and appropriate.

The words were as follows:--

Freemen! arise, and keep your vow!

The foe are on our sh.o.r.e, And we must win our freedom now, Or yield forevermore.

The share will make a goodly glaive-- Then tear it from the plough!

Lingers there here a crouching slave!

Depart, a recreant thou!

Depart, and leave the field to those Determined to be free, Who burn to meet their vaunting foes And strike for liberty.

Why did the pilgrim cross the wave?

Say, was he not your sire?

And shall the liberty he gave Upon his grave expire!

The stormy wave could not appal; Nor where the savage trod; He braved them all, and conquer'd all, For freedom and for G.o.d.

We fight for fireside and for home, For heritage, for altar; And, by the G.o.d of yon blue dome, Not one of us shall falter!

We'll guard them, though the foeman stood Like sand-grains on our sh.o.r.e, And raise our angry battle-flood, And whelm the despots o'er.

We've drawn the sword, and shrined the sheath Upon our father's tomb; And when the foe shall sleep in death, We'll sheath it o'er their doom.

Firm be your step, steady your file, Unbroken your array; The spirits of the blest shall smile Upon our deeds to-day.

Unfurl the banner of the free Amidst the battle's cloud; Its folds shall wave to Liberty, Or be to us a shroud.

O'er those who fall, a soldier's tear Exulting shall be shed; We'll bear them upon honour's bier, To sleep in honour's bed.

The maiden, with her hurried breath And rapture-beaming eye, Shall all forget the field of death To bless the victory.

The child, O! he will bless his sire, The mother bless her son, And G.o.d, He will not frown in ire, When such a field is won.

"Good!" exclaimed Kinnison, when the song was done. "That is a war-song of '76, I know."

"It is," replied the singer; "and judging from what I have heard you say, it expresses in it the feeling of the period."

"A truce to songs and music," said Davenport. "I never was fond of any kind of music but that of the fife and drum, and I never needed that to put me in a condition to stand fire."

"You are too gloomy," said Kinnison.

"I have had cause enough for gloominess," said Davenport.

"But I wanted to talk to you about something--and that was my reason for checking you. You talk so much about the treason of Arnold, and say that he never was a patriot, that I wanted to tell you of another man's treason, not to excuse Arnold, but to show you that he wasn't alone in preferring the British side of the question, and that there were bolder patriots than Paulding, Williams, and Van Wert, the captors of Andre.

"We know there were plenty of traitors and patriots in the country without a showing," said Kinnison, "but go on with your narrative."

"But this will prove that all censure should not be heaped upon Arnold's head, nor all the praise on the militia-men of Tarry-town," observed Davenport.

THE TREASON OF BETTYS.

"When the Revolutionary War broke out," said Davenport, beginning his narrative, "there was a man named Joseph Bettys, who lived in b.a.l.l.ston, New York, remarkable for his courage, strength and intelligence. Colonel Ball of the Continental forces saw that Bettys might be of great service to our cause, and succeeded in enlisting him as a serjeant. But he was soon afterwards reduced to the ranks, on account of his insolence to an officer, who, he said, had abused him without cause. Colonel Ball was not acquainted with the facts of the affair, but being unwilling to lose so active and courageous a man, he procured him the rank of a serjeant in the fleet commanded by General Arnold, on Lake Champlain. Bettys was as skilful a seaman as could be found in the service, and during the desperate fight between the fleets which occurred in the latter part of 1776, he rendered more service than any other man except Arnold himself.

He fought until every commissioned officer on board of his vessel was either killed or wounded, then took command himself, and fought with such reckless and desperate spirit, that General Waterbury seeing the vessel was about to sink, ordered Bettys and the remnant of his crew to come on board his vessel. Waterbury then stationed Bettys on his quarter-deck, and gave orders through him until his vessel was crippled, and the crew mostly killed or wounded, when the colours were struck to the enemy. After that action Bettys went to Canada, and, turning traitor, received an ensign's commission in the British army. He then became a spy, and one of the most subtle enemies of our cause. But our men were wide awake. Bettys was arrested, tried and condemned to be hung at West Point. His old parents and many influential Whigs entreated that he should be pardoned, promising that he would mend his life. General Was.h.i.+ngton, you know, never took life where it could be spared, and so he granted the pardon. But it was generosity thrown away; Bettys hated the Americans the more because they had it in their power to pardon him, and resolved to make them feel he could not be humbled and led in that way. The Whigs regretted the mercy that had spared the traitor. Bettys recruited soldiers for the enemy in the very heart of the country; captured and carried of the most zealous patriots, and subjected them to great suffering. Those against whom he had the most hatred, had their houses burned, and often lost their lives. The British commander paid him well, for he was one of the best spies and most faithful messenger that could be found. His courage and determination overcame every obstacle and encountered every danger that would have appalled weaker men. He proclaimed himself to be a man who carried his life in his hand, and was as reckless of it as he would be of that of any who should attempt to catch him. It was well understood that Bettys meant precisely what he said, and that he always had a band of refugees ready to support him in any rascality he might conceive. Still, there were some bold men, who had suffered from Bettys' depredations, and who determined to catch him at every hazard. Many attempts were made, but he eluded his pursuers by his stratagems and knowledge of the country, until early in January, 1782, when he was seen in the neighbourhood of b.a.l.l.ston, armed, and with snow-shoes on. Three men, named Cory, Fulmer, and Perkins, armed themselves and proceeded in pursuit. They traced Bettys by a round-about track to the house of a well-known Tory. They consulted a few minutes, and one of them reconnoitred to see the exact position of Bettys. The traitor was at his meal, with his pistols lying on the table and his rifle resting on his arm, prepared for an attack though not suspecting foes were near. The three men, by a sudden effort, burst open the door, rushed upon Bettys, and seized him in such a manner that he could make no resistance. He was then pinioned so firmly that to escape was impossible; and so the desperado, in spite of all his threats, was a tame and quiet prisoner, and no one hurt in taking him. Bettys then asked leave to smoke, which was granted; and he took out his tobacco, with something else which he threw into the fire. Cory saw this movement, and s.n.a.t.c.hed it out, with a handful of coals. It was a small leaden box, about an eighth of an inch in thickness, containing a paper, written in cypher, which the men could not read. It was afterwards found to be a despatch to the British commander at New York, with an order upon the Mayor of that city for thirty pounds, if the despatch was safely delivered. Bettys knew that this paper alone would be evidence enough to hang him, and he offered the men gold to let him burn it. But they refused his highest offers. He had a considerable quant.i.ty of gold about him, and he offered them not only that but much more if they would allow him to escape; but their patriotism could stand gold as well as the gold could stand fire. They took Bettys to Albany, where he was tried as a spy and hung. The only reward that the three men ever received was the rifle and pistols of Bettys. The men who captured Andre were patriotic enough, but their work was easy compared with that of Cory, Fulmer and Perkins. Yet the names of these heroes are scarcely ever mentioned, and the story of their daring exploit is not generally known."

[Ill.u.s.tration: SEIZURE OF THE BETTYS.]

"Did this affair happen before that of Andre's?" enquired Hand. "If so, these men only imitated the n.o.ble example of Paulding, Williams and Van Wert."

"It did occur after the capture of Andre," replied Davenport. "But that takes nothing from the danger of the attempt, or the amount of the temptation resisted."

"That's true," replied Hand; "but the capture of Andre, and the favour with which our countrymen regarded his captors, may have stimulated many to patriotic exertions, and thereby have made such deeds so common as not to receive special notice. I've no doubt the researches of historians will yet bring to light many such deeds."

"How the conduct of such men as Arnold and Bettys contrasts with that of Samuel Adams and his fellow-patriots!" remarked Warner. "When the first resistance was made to quartering the British troops in Boston, Samuel Adams was the leader and mouth-piece of the patriots, and the royal rulers of Ma.s.sachusetts tried every way to induce him to abandon the cause he had espoused. In the first place, they threatened him with severe punishment. But they couldn't scare him from his chosen course.

Then they flattered and caressed him, but it was of no effect. At last, Governor Gage resolved to try whether bribes wouldn't work a change. So, he sent Col. Fenton to him, as a confidential messenger. The Colonel visited Adams, and stated his business at length, concluding with a representation that by complying, Adams would make his peace with the king. The stern patriot heard him through, and then asked him if he would deliver his reply to Governor Gage as it should be given. The Colonel said he would. Then Adams a.s.sumed a determined manner, and replied, 'I trust I have long since made my peace with the King of kings. No personal consideration shall induce me to abandon the righteous cause of my country. Tell Governor Gage, it is the advice of Samuel Adams to him, no longer to insult the feelings of an exasperated people.' There was the highest reach of patriotic resolution."

"Aye, Samuel Adams was whole-souled and high-souled," said Davenport.

"No one will dispute that, who knows any thing of his history."

"New England had a host of patriots at the same period," observed Kinnison. "Many of them did not possess the talents and energy of Samuel Adams, but the heart was all right."

THE BATTLE OF BUNKER'S HILL.

"Well, gentlemen," said Mr. Hand, "there is a most important matter, which you have omitted. You have told us nothing of Bunker Hill's memorable fight, in which, as Bostonians and friends of liberty, we feel the deepest interest. Which of you can oblige us by giving us your recollections of our first great struggle?"

"Mr. Warner was one of Col. Starke's men. He can tell you all about it,"

said Colson.

"Aye, if memory serves me yet," said Warner, "I can tell you much of that day's struggle. I joined Col. Starke's regiment shortly before the battle. I always admired Starke, and preferred to serve under him. I suppose you are acquainted with the general features of the battle, and therefore I will not detain you long, with reciting them.

"On the sixteenth of June, 1775, it was determined that a fortified post should be established at or near Bunker's Hill.

"A detachment of the army was ordered to advance early in the evening of that day, and commence the erection of a strong work on the heights in the rear of Charlestown, at that time called Breed's Hill, but from its proximity to Bunker Hill, the battle has taken its name from the latter eminence, which overlooks it.

"The work was commenced and carried on under the direction of such engineers as we were able to procure at that time. It was a square redoubt, the curtains of which were about sixty or seventy feet in extent, with an entrenchment, or breast-work, extending fifty or sixty feet from the northern angle, towards Mystic river.