The Adventures Of A Revolutionary Soldier/Chapter IV.

by Joseph Plumb Martin

CHAPTER IV.

Campaign of 1778.

A serene and cloudless atmosphere
Betokens that a storm is near;
So when dame Fortune proves most kind,—
Be sure, Miss-Fortune's close behind.

As there was no cessation of duty in the army, I must commence another campaign as soon as the succeeding one is ended. There was no going home and spending the winter season among friends, and procuring a new recruit of strength and spirits. No—it was one constant drill, summer and winter, like an old horse in a mill, it was a continual routine.

The first expedition I undertook in my new vocation, was a foraging cruise. I was ordered off into the country in a party consisting of a corporal and six men. What our success was I do not now remember; but I well remember the transactions of the party in the latter part of the journey. We were returning to our quarters on christmas afternoon, when we met three ladies, one a young married woman with an infant in her arms, the other two were maidens, for aught I knew then or since, they passed for such. They were all comely, particularly one of them; she was handsome. They immediately fell into familiar discourse with us—were very inquisitive like the rest of the sex;—asked us a thousand questions respecting our business, where we had been and where going, &c. After we had satisfied their curiosity, or at least had endeavored to do so, they told us that they (that is, the two youngest) lived a little way on our road in a house which they described: desired us to call in and rest ourselves a few minutes, and said they would return as soon as they had seen their sister and babe safe home.

As for myself, I was very unwell, occasioned by a violent cold I had recently taken, and I was very glad to stop a short time to rest my bones. Accordingly, we stopped at the house described by the young ladies, and in a few minutes they returned as full of chat as they were when we met them in the road. After a little more information respecting our business, they proposed to us to visit one of their neighbours, against whom it seemed they had a grudge, and upon whom they wished to wreak their vengeance through our agency. To oblige the ladies we undertook to obey their injunctions. They very readily agreed to be our guides as the way lay across fields and pastures full of bushes. The distance was about half a mile and directly out of our way to our quarters. The girls went with us until we came in sight of the house. We concluded we could do no less than fulfil our engagements with them, so we went into the house, the people of which, appeared to be genuine Pennsylvania farmers, and very fine folks. We all now began to relent, and after telling them our business, we concluded that if they would give us a canteen (which held about a quart) full of whiskey and some bread and cheese, we would depart without any further exactions. To get rid of us, doubtless, the man of the house gave us our canteen of whiskey, and the good woman gave us a fine loaf of wheaten flour bread and the whole of a small cheese, and we raised the seige and departed. I was several times afterwards at this house, and was always well treated. I believe the people did not recollect me, and I was glad they did not; for when I saw them I had always a twinge or two of conscience for thus dissembling with them at the instigation of persons who certainly were no better than they should be, or they would not have employed strangers to glut their vengeance upon innocent people; innocent at least as it respected us. But after all, it turned much in their favour. It was in our power to take cattle or horses, hay, or any other produce from them; but we felt that we had done wrong in listening to the tattle of malicious neighbours, and for that cause we refrained from meddling with any property of theirs ever after. So that good came to them out of intended evil.

After we had received our bread, cheese and whiskey, we struck across the fields into the highway again. It was now nearly sunset, and as soon as we had got into the road, the youngest of the girls, and handsomest and chattiest, overtook us again, riding on horseback with a gallant. As soon as she came up with us, "O here is my little Captain again," said she; (it appeared it was our corporal that attracted her attention,) "I am glad to see you again." The young man, her sweetheart, did not seem to wish her to be quite so familiar with her "little Captain," and urged on his horse as fast as possible. But female policy is generally too subtle for the male's, and she exhibited a proof of it, for they had scarcely passed us when she slid from the horse upon her feet, into the road, with a shriek as though some frightful accident had happened to her. There was nothing handy to serve as a horseblock, so the "little Captain" must take her in his arms and set her upon her horse again, much, I suppose, to their mutual satisfaction,—but not so to her gallant, who, as I thought, looked rather grum.

We had now five miles to travel to reach our quarters, and I was sick indeed, but we got to our home some time in the evening, and I soon went to sleep;—in the morning I was better.

When I was inoculated with the small pox I took that delectable disease the itch, it was given us, we supposed, in the infection. We had no opportunity, or at least, we had nothing to cure ourselves with during the whole season; all who had the small pox at Peekskill had it. We often applied to our officers for assistance to clear ourselves from it, but all we could get, was, "Bear it as patiently as you can, when we get into winter-quarters you will have leisure and means to rid yourselves of it." I had it to such a degree that by the time I got into winter-quarters I could scarcely lift my hands to my head.—Some of our foraging party had acquaintances in the Artillery and by their means we procured sulphur enough to cure all that belonged to our detachment. Accordingly, we made preparations for a general attack upon it. The first night one half of the party commenced the action by mixing a sufficient quantity of brimstone and tallow, which was the only grease we could get, at the same time not forgetting to mix a plenty of hot whiskey-toddy, making up a hot blazing fire and laying down an ox-hide upon the hearth. Thus prepared with arms and ammunition, we began the operation by plying each other's outsides with brimstone and tallow and the inside with hot whiskey sling. Had the animalcule of the itch been endowed with reason they would have quit their entrenchments and taken care of themselves, when we had made such a formidable attack upon them; but as it was we had to engage, arms in hand, and we obtained a complete victory, though it had like to have cost some of us our lives;—two of the assailants were so overcome, not by the enemy, but by their too great exertions in the action, that they lay all night naked upon the field; the rest of us got to our births somehow, as well as we could, but we killed the itch and we were satisfied, for it had almost killed us. This was a decisive victory, the only one we had achieved lately. The next night the other half of our men took their turn, but, taking warning by our mishaps, they conducted their part of the battle with comparatively little trouble or danger to what we had experienced on our part.

I shall not relate all the minute transactions which passed while I was on this foraging party, as it would swell my narrative to too large a size; I will, however, give the reader a brief account of some of my movements that I may not leave him entirely ignorant how I spent my time. We fared much better than I had ever done in the army before, or ever did afterwards. We had very good provisions all winter and generally enough of them. Some of us were constantly in the country with the wagons, we went out by turns and had no one to control us; our Lieutenant scarcely ever saw us or we him; our sergeant never went out with us once, all the time we were there, nor our corporal but once, and that was when he was the "little Captain." When we were in the country we were pretty sure to fare well, for the inhabitants were remarkably kind to us. We had no guards to keep, our only duty was to help load the wagons with hay, corn, meal or whatever they were to take off, and when they were thus loaded, to keep them company till they arrived at the commissary's, at Milltown, from thence the articles, whatever they were, were carried to camp in other vehicles, under other guards. I do not remember that during the time I was employed in this business, which was from christmas to the latter part of April, ever to have met with the least resistance from the inhabitants, take what we would from their barns, mills, corncribs, or stalls; but when we came to their stables, then look out for the women; take what horse you would, it was one or the other's "pony" and they had no other to ride to church; and when we had got possession of a horse we were sure to have half a dozen or more women pressing upon us, until by some means or other, if possible, they would slip the bridle from the horse's head, and then we might catch him again if we could. They would take no more notice of a charged bayonet than a blind horse would of a cocked pistol; it would answer no purpose to threaten to kill them with the bayonet or musket, they knew as well as we did that we would not put our threats in execution, and when they had thus liberated a horse (which happened but seldom) they would laugh at us and ask us why we did not do as we threatened, kill them, and then they would generally ask us into their houses and treat us with as much kindness as though nothing had happened. The women of Pennsylvania, taken in general, are certainly very worthy characters; it is but justice, as far as I am concerned, for me to say, that I was always well treated both by them and the men, especially the Friends or Quakers, in every part of the State through which I passed, and that was the greater part of what was then inhabited. But the southern ladies had a queer idea of the Yankees, (as they always called the New-Englanders,) they seemed to think that they were a people quite different from themselves, as indeed they were in many respects; I could mention many things and ways in which they differed, but it is of no consequence; they were clever and that is sufficient. I will however mention one little incident, just to show what their conceptions were of us.

I happened once to be with some wagons, one of which was detached from the party. I went with this team as its guard; we stopped at a house the mistress of which and the wagoner were acquainted. (These foraging temas all belonged in the neighbourhood of our quarters.) She had a pretty little female child about four years old. The teamster was praising the child, extolling its gentleness and quietness, when the mother observed that it had been quite cross and crying all day, "I have been threatening," said she, "to give her to the Yankees." "Take care," said the wagoner, "how you speak of the Yankees, I have one of them here with me." "La!" said the woman, "is he a Yankee? I thought he was a Pennsylvanian;—I don't see any difference between him and other people."

I have before said that I should not narrate all the little affairs which transpired while I was on this foraging party. But if I pass them all over in silence the reader may perhaps think that I had nothing to do all winter, or at least, that I did nothing, when in truth it was quite the reverse. Our duty was hard, but generally not altogether unpleasant;—I had to travel far and near, in cold and in storms, by day and by night, and at all times to run the risk of abuse, if not of injury, from the inhabitants, when plundering them of their property, (for I could not, while in the very act of taking their cattle, hay, corn and grain from them against their wills, consider it a whit better than plundering,—sheer privateering.) But I will give them the credit of never receiving the least abuse or injury from an individual during the whole time I was employed in this business. I doubt whether the people of New-England would have borne it as patiently, their "steady habits" to the contrary notwithstanding.

Being once in a party among the Welch mountains, there came on a tedious rain-storm which continued three or four days. I happened to be at a farmer's house with one or two of the wagon-masters;—the man of the house was from home and the old lady rather crabbed; she knew our business and was therefore inclined to be rather unsociable. The first day she would not give us any thing to eat but some scraps of cold victuals, the second day she grew a little more condescending, and on the third day she boiled a potfull of good beef, pork and sour crout for us.—"Never mind," said one of the wagon-masters to me, "mother comes on, she will give us roasted turkies directly." There was a little negro boy belonging to the house, about five or six years of age, who, the whole time I was there, sat upon a stool in the chimney-corner; indeed, he looked as if he had sat there ever since he was born. One of the wagon-masters said to the landlady one day, "Mother, is that your son that sits in the corner?" "My son!" said she, "why, don't you see he is a negro?" "A negro! is he?" said the man, "why I really thought he was your son, only that he had sat there until he was smoke-dried."

While the storm continued, to pass our time, several of our party went to a tavern in the neighbourhood. We here gambled a little for some liquor, by throwing a small dart or stick, armed at one end with a pin, at a mark on the ceiling of the room; while I was at this amusement I found that the landlord and I bore the same name, and upon further discourse I found that he had a son about my age, whose given name was the same as mine. This son was taken prisoner at fort Lee, on the Hudson river, in the year 1776, and died on his way home. These good people were almost willing to pursuade themselves that I was their son. There were two very pretty girls, sisters to the deceased young man, who seemed wonderfully taken up with me, called me "brother," and I fared none the worse for my name. I used often, afterwards, in my cruises to that part of the State, to call in as I passed, and was always well treated by the whole family. The landlord used to fill my canteen with whiskey, or peach or cider brandy to enable me, as he said, to climb the Welch mountains. I always went there with pleasure and left with regret. I often wished afterwards that I could find more namesakes.

I was sent one day, with another man of our party, to drive some cattle to the Quartermaster-General's quarters. It was dark when we arrived there. After we had delivered the cattle, an officer belonging to the Quartermaster-General's department asked me if I had a canteen. I answered in the negative, (I had left mine at my quarters.) "A soldier," said he "should always have a canteen," and I was sorry that I was just then deficient of that article, for he gave us a half pint tumbler full of genuine old Jamaica spirits, which was, like Boniface's ale, "as smooth as oil." It was too late to return to our quarters that night, so we concluded to go to camp, about three miles distant, and see our old messmates. Our stomachs being empty, the spirits began to take hold of both belly and brains. I soon became very faint, but, as good luck would have it, my companion happened to have a part of a dried neat's tongue, which he had plundered somewhere in his travels. We fell to work upon that and soon demolished it, which refreshed us much and enabled us to reach camp without suffering shipwreck. There was nothing to be had at camp but a little rest and that was all we asked. In the morning it was necessary to have a pass from the commander of the regiment, to enable us to pass the guards on our return to our quarters in the country. My Captain gave me one, and then it must be countersigned by the Colonel. When I entered the Colonel's hut,—"Where have you been" (calling me by name) "this winter," said he, "why, you are as fat as a pig." I told him I had been foraging in the country. "I think," said he, "you have taken care of yourself; I believe we must keep you here and send another man in your stead, that he may recruit himself a little." I told him that I was sent to camp on particular business and with strict orders to return, and that no one else could do so well. Finally, he signed my pass, and I soon hunted up the other man when we left the camp in as great a hurry as though the plague had been there.

But the time at length came when we were obliged to go to camp for good and all, whether we chose it or not. An order from head-quarters required all stationed parties and guards to be relieved, that all who had not had the small pox might have an opportunity to have it before the warm weather came on. Accordingly, about the last of April we were relieved by a party of southern troops. The Commissary, who was a native of Connecticut, although at the commencement of the war he resided in Philadelphia, told us that he was sorry we were going away, for, said he, "I do not much like these men with one eye, (alluding to their practice of gouging,) I am acquainted with you, and if any men are wanted here I should prefer those from my own section of the country to entire strangers." Although we would have very willingly obliged him with our company, yet it could not be so, we must go to camp at all events. We accordingly marched off and arrived at camp the next day, much to the seeming satisfaction of our old messmates, and as much to the real dissatisfaction of ourselves; at least, it was so with me.

Thus far, since the year commenced, "Dame Fortune had been kind," but now "Miss-Fortune" was coming in for her set in the reel. I had now to enter again on my old system of starving;—there was nothing to eat; I had brought two or three days' rations in my knapsack, and while that lasted I made shift to get along, but that was soon gone, and I was then obliged to come to it again, which was sorely against my grain. During the past winter I had had enough to eat and been under no restraint; I had picked up a few articles of comfortable summer clothing among the inhabitants; our Lieutenant had never concerned himself about us, we had scarcely seen him during the whole time,—when we were off duty we went when and where we pleased "and had none to make us afraid;" but now the scene was changed, we must go and come at bidding and suffer hunger besides.

After I had joined my regiment I was kept constantly, when off other duty, engaged in learning the Baron de Steuben's new Prussian exercise; it was a continual drill.

About this time I was sent off from camp in a detachment consisting of about three thousand men, with four field pieces, under the command of the young General Lafayette. We marched to Barren hill, about twelve miles from Philadelphia; there are cross roads upon this hill, a branch of which leads to the city. We halted here, placed our guards, sent off our scouting parties, and waited for—I know not what.—A company of about a hundred Indians, from some northern tribe, joined us here,—there were three or four young Frenchmen with them. The Indians were stout looking fellows, and remarkably neat for that race of mortals, (but they were Indians.) There was upon the hill, and just where we were lying, an old church built of stone, entirely divested of all its entrails. The Indians were amusing themselves and the soldiers by shooting with their bows, in and about the church. I observed something in a corner of the roof which did not appear to belong to the building, and desired an Indian who was standing near me, to shoot an arrow at it; he did so and it proved to be a cluster of bats; I should think there were nearly a bushel of them, all hanging upon one another. The house was immediately alive with them, and it was likewise instantly full of Indians and soldiers. The poor bats fared hard, it was sport for all hands; they killed, I know not how many, but there was a great slaughter among them.—I never saw so many bats before nor since, nor indeed in my whole life put all together.

The next day I was one of a guard to protect the horses belonging to the detachment; they were in a meadow of six or eight acres, entirely surrounded by tall trees; it was cloudy and a low fog hung all night upon the meadow, and for several hours, during the night, there was a jack-o-lantern cruising in the edying air; the poor thing seemed to wish to get out of the meadow, but could not, the air circulating within the enclosure of trees would not permit it. Several of the guard endeavoured to catch it but did not succeed.^[1]

Just at the dawn of day the officers' waiters came, almost breathless, after the horses; upon inquiring for the cause of the unusual hurry, we were told that the British were advancing upon us in our rear; how they could get there was to us a mystery, but they were there. We helped the waiters to catch their horses, and immediately returned to the main body of the detachment. We found the troops all under arms and in motion, preparing for an onset. Those of the troops belonging to our brigade were put into the churchyard, which was enclosed by a wall of stone and lime about breast high, a good defence against musketry but poor against artillery. I began to think I should soon have some better sport than killing bats. But our commander found that the enemy was too strong to be engaged in the position we then occupied, he therefore wisely ordered a retreat from this place to the Schuylkill, where we might choose any position that we pleased, having ragged woody hills in our rear and the river in front. It was about three miles to the river; the weather was exceeding warm, and I was in the rear platoon of the detachment except two platoons of Gen. Washington's guards. The quick motion in front kept the rear on a constant trot. Two pieces of artillery were in front and two in the rear. The enemy had nearly surrounded us by the time our retreat commenced, but the road we were in was very favourable for us, it being for the most part, and especially the first part of it through small woods and copses. When I was about half way to the river, I saw the right wing of the enemy through a lawn about half a mile distant, but they were too late; besides, they made a blunder here,—they saw our rear guard with the two fieldpieces in its front, and thinking it the front of the detachment, they closed in to secure their prey; but when they had sprung their net they found that they had not a single bird under it.

We crossed the Schuylkill in good order, very near the spot where I had crossed it four times in the month of October the preceding autumn. As fast as the troops crossed they formed and prepared for action, and waited for them to attack us; but we saw no more of them that time, for before we had reached the river the alarm guns were fired in our camp and the whole army was immediately in motion. The British, fearing that they should be outnumbered in their turn, directly set their faces for Philadelphia and set off in as much or more haste than we had left Barren hill. They had, during the night, left the city with such silence and secrecy, and by taking what was called the New-York road, that they escaped detection by all our parties, and the first knowledge they obtained of the enemy's movements was, that he was upon their backs, between them and us on the hill. The Indians, with all their alertness, had like to have "bought the rabit;" they kept coming in all the afternoon, in parties of four or five, whooping and hallooing like wild beasts. After they had got collected they vanished; I never saw any more of them. Our scouting parties all came in safe, but I was afterwards informed by a British deserter that several of the enemy perished by the heat and their exertions to get away from a retreating enemy.

The place that our detachment was now at was the Gulf, mentioned in the preceding chapter, where we kept the rice and vinegar thanksgiving of starving memory. We staid here till nearly night, when, no one coming to visit us, we marched off and took up our lodgings for the night in a wood. The next day we crossed the Schuylkill again and went on to Barren hill once more; we staid there a day or two and then returned to camp with keen appetites and empty purses. If any one asks why we did not stay on Barren hill till the British came up, and have taken and given a few bloody noses?—all I have to say in answer is, that the General well knew what he was about; he was not deficient in either courage or conduct, and that was well known to all the revolutionary army.

Soon after this affair we left our winter cantonments, crossed the Schulykill and encamped on the left bank of that river, just opposite to our winter-quarters. We had lain here but a few days, when we heard that the British army had left Philadelphia and were proceeding to New-York, through the Jerseys. We marched immediately in pursuit;—we crossed the Delaware at Carroll's ferry, above Trenton, and encamped a day or two between that town and Princeton. Here I was again detached with a party of one thousand men, as light troops, to get into the enemy's route and follow him close, to favour desertion and pick up stragglers.

The day we were drafted the sun was eclipsed; had this happened upon such an occasion in "olden time," it would have been considered ominous either of good or bad fortune, but we took no notice of it. Our detachment marched in the afternoon and towards night we passed through Princeton; some of the patriotic inhabitants of the town had brought out to the end of the street we passed through, some casks of ready made toddy, it was dealt out to the men as they passed by, which caused the detachment to move slowly at this place. The young ladies of the town, and perhaps of the vicinity, had collected and were sitting in the stoops and at the windows to see the noble exhibition of a thousand half starved and three quarters naked soldiers pass in review before them. I chanced to be on the wing of a platoon next to the houses, as they were chiefly on one side of the street, and had a good chance to notice the ladies, and I declare that I never before nor since saw more beauty, considering the numbers, than I saw at that time; they were all beautiful. New-Jersey and Pennsylvania ladies are, in my opinion, collectively handsome, the most so of any in the United States. But I hope our Yankee ladies will not be jealous at hearing this; I allow that they have as many mental beauties as the others have personal, perhaps more, I know nothing about it—they are all handsome.

We passed through Princeton and encamped on the open fields for the night, the canopy of heaven for our tent. Early next morning we marched again and came up with the rear of the British army. We followed them several days, arriving upon their camping ground within an hour after their departure from it. We had ample opportunity to see the devastation they made in their rout; cattle killed and lying about the fields and pastures, some just in the position they were in when shot down, others with a small spot of skin taken off their hind quarters and a mess of steak taken out; household furniture hacked and broken to pieces; wells filled up and mechanic's and farmer's tools destroyed. It was in the height of the season of cherries, the innocent industrious creatures could not climb the trees for the fruit, but universally cut them down. Such conduct did not give the Americans any more agreeable feelings toward them than they entertained before.

It was extremely hot weather, and the sandy plains of that part of New-Jersey did not cool the air to any great degree, but we still kept close to the rear of the British army; deserters were almost hourly coming over to us, but of stragglers we took only a few.

My risibility was always pretty easily excited at any innocent ludicrous incident;—the following circumstance gave me cause to laugh as well as all the rest who heard it. We halted in a wood for a few minutes in the heat of the day, on the ascent of a hill, and were lolling on the sides of the road, when there passed by two old men, both upon one horse that looked as if the crows had bespoken him. I did not know but Sancho Panza had lost his Dapple and was mounted behind Don Quixote upon Rosinante and bound upon some adventure with the British. However, they had not long been gone past us before another, about the same age and complexion, came steming by on foot. Just as he had arrived where I was sitting, he stopped short, and looking toward the soldiers, said, "Did you see two old horses riding a Dutchman this road up?—Hoh!" The soldiers set up a laugh, as well they might, and the poor old Dutchman finding he had gone "dail foremost" in his question, made the best of his way off out of hearing of us. We this night turned into a new ploughed field, and I laid down between two furrows and slept as sweet as though I had lain upon a bed of down.

The next morning, as soon as the enemy began their march, we were again in motion and came to their last night's encamping ground just after sunrise; here we halted an hour or two, as we often had to do, to give the enemy time to advance, our orders being not to attack them unless in self-defence. We were marching on as usual, when, about ten or eleven o'clock, we were ordered to halt and then to face to the right about. As this order was given by the officers in rather a different way than usual, we began to think something was out of joint somewhere, but what or where, our united wisdom could not explain; the general opinion of the soldiers was, that some part of the enemy had by some means got into our rear; we however retraced our steps till we came to our last night's encamping ground, when we left the route of the enemy and went off a few miles, to a place called Englishtown. It was uncommonly hot weather and we put up booths to protect us from the heat of the sun, which was almost insupportable. Whether we lay here one or two nights, I do not remember, it matters not which; we were early in the morning mustered out and ordered to leave all our baggage under the care of a guard, (our baggage was trifling,) taking only our blankets and provisions, (our provisions were less,) and prepare for immediate march and action. The officer who commanded the platoon that I belonged to was a Captain, belonging to the Rhode-Island troops, and a fine brave man he was; he feared nobody nor nothing. When we were paraded,—"Now," said he to us, "you have been wishing for some days past to come up with the British, you have been wanting to fight,—now you shall have fighting enough before night;"—the men did not need much haranguing to raise their courage, for when the officers came to order the sick and lame to stay behind as guards, they were forced to exercise their authority to the full extent before they could make even the invalids stay behind, and when some of their arms were about to be exchanged with those who were going into the field, they would not part with them,—"if their arms went," they said, "they would go with them at all events."

After all things were put in order, we marched, but halted a few minutes in the village, where we were joined by a few other troops and then proceeded on. We now heard a few reports of cannon ahead; we went in a road running through a deep narrow valley, which was for a considerable way covered with thick wood; we were sometime in passing this defile. While in the wood we heard a volley or two of musketry, and upon inquiry we found it to be a party of our troops who had fired upon a party of British horse; but there was no fear of horse in the place in which we then were.

It was ten or eleven o'clock before we got through these woods and came into the open fields. The first cleared land we came to was an Indian corn-field, surrounded on the east, west and north sides by thick tall trees; the sun shining full upon the field, the soil of which was sandy, the mouth of a heated oven seemed to me to be but a trifle hotter than this ploughed field; it was almost impossible to breathe. We had to fall back again as soon as we could, into the woods; by the time we had got under the shade of the trees, and had taken breath, of which we had been almost deprived, we received orders to retreat, as all the left wing of the army (that part being under the command of Gen. Lee) were retreating. Grating as this order was to our feelings, we were obliged to comply. We had not retreated far before we came to a defile, a muddy sloughy brook; while the Artillery were passing this place, we sat down by the road side;—in a few minutes the Commander-in-chief and suit crossed the road just where we were sitting. I heard him ask our officers "by whose order the troops were retreating," and being answered, "by Gen. Lee's;" he said something, but as he was moving forward all the time this was passing, he was too far off for me to hear it distinctly; those that were nearer to him, said that his words were—"d—n him;" whether he did thus express himself or not I do not know, it was certainly very unlike him, but he seemed at the instant to be in a great passion, his looks if not his words seemed to indicate as much. After passing us, he rode on to the plain field and took an observation of the advancing enemy; he remained there sometime upon his old English charger, while the shot from the British Artillery were rending up the earth all around him. After he had taken a view of the enemy, he returned and ordered the two Connecticut Brigades to make a stand at a fence, in order to keep the enemy in check while the Artillery and other troops crossed the before-mentioned defile. [It was the Connecticut and Rhode-Island forces which occupied this post, notwithstanding what Dr. Ramsay says to the contrary; he seems willing, to say the least, to give the southern troops the credit due to the northern; a Historian ought to be sure of the truth of circumstances before he relates them.] When we had secured our retreat, the Artillery formed a line of pieces upon a long piece of elevated ground. Our detachment formed directly in front of the Artillery, as a covering party, so far below on the declivity of the hill, that the pieces could play over our heads. And here we waited the approach of the enemy, should he see fit to attack us.

By this time the British had come in contact with the New-England forces at the fence, when a sharp conflict ensued; these troops maintained their ground, till the whole force of the enemy that could be brought to bear, had charged upon them through the fence, and after being overpowered by numbers and the platoon officers had given orders for their several platoons to leave the fence, they had to force them to retreat, so eager were they to be revenged on the invaders of their country and rights.

As soon as the troops had left this ground the British planted their cannon upon the place, and began a violent attack upon the Artillery and our detachment, but neither could be routed. The cannonade continued for sometime without intermission, when the British pieces being mostly disabled, they reluctantly crawled back from the height which they had occupied, and hid themselves from our sight.

Before the cannonade had commenced, a part of the right wing of the British army had advanced across a low meadow and brook, and occupied an orchard on our left. The weather was almost too hot to live in, and the British troops in the orchard were forced by the heat to shelter themselves from it under the trees. We had a four pounder on the left of our pieces which kept a constant fire upon the enemy during the whole contest. After the British Artillery had fallen back and the connonade had mostly ceased in this quarter, and our detachment had an opportunity to look about us, Col. Cilly of the New-Hampshire line, who was attached to our detachment, passed along in front of our line, inquiring for Gen. Varnum's men, (who were the Connecticut and Rhode-Island men belonging to our command;) we answered, "Here we are;" he did not hear us in his hurry, but passed on: in a few minutes he returned, making the same inquiry,—we again answered, "Here we are." "Ah!" said he, "you are the boys I want to assist in driving those rascals from yon orchard." We were immediately ordered from our old detachment and joined another, the whole composing a corps of about five hundred men. We instantly marched towards the enemy's right wing, which was in the orchard, and kept concealed from them as long as possible, by keeping behind the bushes. When we could no longer keep ourselves concealed, we marched into the open fields and formed our line. The British immediately formed and began to retreat to the main body of their army. Col. Cilly, finding that we were not likely to overtake the enemy before they reached the main body of the army, on account of fences and other obstructions, ordered three or four platoons from the right of our corps to pursue and attack them, and thus keep them in play till the rest of the detachment could come up. I was in this party, we pursued without order; as I passed through the orchard I saw a number of the enemy lying under the trees, killed by our fieldpiece, mentioned before. We overtook the enemy just as they were entering upon the meadow, which was rather bushy. When within about five rods of the rear of the retreating foe, I could distinguish every thing about them, they were retreating in line, though in some disorder; I singled out a man and took my aim directly between his shoulders, (they were divested of their packs,) he was a good mark, being a broad shouldered fellow; what became of him I know not, the fire and smoke hid him from my sight; one thing I know, that is, I took as deliberate aim at him as ever I did at any game in my life. But after all, I hope I did not kill him, although I intended to at the time. By this time our whole party had arrived, and the British had obtained a position that suited them, as I suppose, for they returned our fire in good earnest, and we played the second part of the same tune. They occupied a much higher piece of ground than we did, and had a small piece of Artillery, which the soldiers called a grashopper; we had no Artillery with us. The first shot they gave us from this piece, cut off the thigh bone of a Captain, just above the knee, and the whole heel of a private in the rear of him. We gave it to poor Sawney (for they were Scotch troops) so hot, that he was forced to fall back and leave the ground they occupied. When our Commander saw them retreating, and nearly joined with their main body, he shouted, "come, my boys, reload your pieces, and we will give them a set-off." We did so, and gave them the parting salute, and the firing on both sides ceased. We then laid ourselves down under the fences and bushes to take breath, for we had need of it; I presume every one has heard of the heat of that day, but none can realize it that did not feel it. Fighting is hot work in cool weather, how much more so in such weather as it was on the 28th of June, 1778.

After the action in our part of the army had ceased, I went to a well, a few rods off, to get some water; here I found the wounded captain, mentioned before, lying on the ground, and begging his sergeant, who pretended to have the care of him, to help him off the field, or he should bleed to death; the sergeant, and a man or two he had with him, were taken up in hunting after plunder. It grieved me to see the poor man in such distress, and I asked the sergeant why he did not carry his officer to the surgeons; he said he would directly; directly! said I, why he will die directly. I then offered to assist them in carrying him to a meeting-house, a short distance off, where the rest of the wounded men and the surgeons were; at length he condescended to be persuaded to carry him off, I helped him to the place, and tarried a few minutes, to see the wounded and two or three limbs amputated, and then returned to my party again, where we remained the rest of the day and the following night, expecting to have another hack at them in the morning, but they gave us the slip.

As soon as our party had ceased firing, it began in the centre, and then upon the right, but as I was not in that part of the army, I had no "adventure" in it, but the firing was continued in one part or the other of the field, the whole afternoon. Our troops remained on the field all night with the Commander-in-chief; a regiment of Connecticut forces were sent to lie as near the enemy as possible and to watch their motions, but they disappointed us all. If my readers wish to know how they escaped so slyly without our knowledge, after such precautions being used to prevent it, I must tell them I know nothing about it. But if they will take the trouble to call upon John Trumbull, Esq. perhaps he will satisfy their curiosity. If he should chance to be out of the way, (and ten chances to one if he is not,) apply to McFingal, Canto 4th.

One little incident happened, during the heat of the cannonade, which I was eye-witness to, and which I think would be unpardonable not to mention. A woman whose husband belonged to the Artillery, and who was then attached to a piece in the engagement, attended with her husband at the piece the whole time; while in the act of reaching a cartridge and having one of her feet as far before the other as she could step, a cannon shot from the enemy passed directly between her legs without doing any other damage than carrying away all the lower part of her petticoat,—looking at it with apparent unconcern, she observed, that it was lucky it did not pass a little higher, for in that case it might have carried away something else, and continued her occupation.

The next day after the action each man received a gill of rum, but nothing to eat. We then joined our regiments in the line, and marched for Hudson's river. We marched by what was called "easy marches," that is, we struck our tents at three o'clock in the morning, marched ten miles and then encamped, which would be about one or two o'clock in the afternoon; every third day we rested all day. In this way we went to King's ferry, where we crossed the Hudson. Each brigade furnished its own ferrymen to carry the troops across. I was one of the men from our brigade; we were still suffering for provisions. Nearly the last trip the batteau that I was in made, while crossing the river empty, a large sturgeon (a fish in which this river abounds) seven or eight feet in length, in his gambollings, sprang directly into the boat, without doing any other damage than breaking down one of the seats of the boat. We crossed and took in our freight and recrossed, landed the men and our prize, gave orders to our several messmates as to the disposal of it, and proceeded on our business till the whole of the brigade had crossed the river, which was not long, we working with new energy in expectation of having something to eat when we had done our job. We then repaired to our messes to partake of the bounty of Providence, which we had so unexpectedly received. I found my share, which was about the seventh part of it, cooked, that is, it was boiled in salt and water, and I fell to it and ate, perhaps, a pound and a half, for I well remember that I was as hungry as a vulture and as empty as a blown bladder. Many of the poor fellows thought us happy in being thus supplied; for my part I felt happy.

From King's ferry the army proceeded to Tarrytown, and from thence to the White plains; here we drew some small supplies of summer clothing of which we stood in great need. While we lay here, I, with some of my comrades who were in the battle of the White plains in the year '76, one day took a ramble on the ground where we were then engaged with the British and took a survey of the place. We saw a number of the graves of those who fell in that battle; some of the bodies had been so slightly buried that the dogs or hogs, or both, had dug them out of the ground. The sculls and other bones, and hair were scattered about the place. Here were Hessian sculls as thick as a bomb shell;—poor fellows! they were left unburied in a foreign land;—they had, perhaps, as near and dear friends to lament their sad destiny as the Americans who lay buried near them. But they should have kept at home, we should then never have gone after them to kill them in their own country. But, the reader will say, they were forced to come and be killed here; forced by their rulers who have absolute power of life and death over their subjects. Well then, reader, bless a kind Providence that has made such a distinction between your condition and theirs. And be careful too that you do not allow yourself ever to be brought to such an abject, servile and debased condition.

We lay at the White plains some time. While here I was transferred to the Light Infantry, when I was immediately marched down to the lines. I had hard duty to perform during the remainder of the campaign. I shall not go into every particular, but only mention a few incidents and accidents which transpired.

There were three regiments of Light Infantry, composed of men from the whole main army,—it was a motly group,—Yankees, Irishmen, Buckskins and what not. The regiment that I belonged to, was made up of about one half New-Englanders and the remainder were chiefly Pennsylvanians,—two setts of people as opposite in manners and customs as light and darkness, consequently there was not much cordialty subsisting between us; for, to tell the sober truth, I had in those days, as lief have been incorporated with a tribe of western Indians, as with any of the southern troops; especially of those which consisted mostly (as the Pennsylvanians did,) of foreigners. But I was among them and in the same regiment too, and under their officers, (but the officers, in general, were gentlemen,) and had to do duty with them; to make a bad matter worse, I was often, when on duty, the only Yankee that happened to be on the same tour for several days together. "The bloody Yankee," or "the d—d Yankee," was the mildest epithets that they would bestow upon me at such times. It often made me think of home, or at least of my regiment of fellow-Yankees.

Our regiment was commanded by a Colonel Butler, a Pennsylvanian,—the same, I believe, who was afterwards Gen. Butler, and was slain by the Indians at the defeat of Gen. St. Clair, at the Miamis; but of this I am not certain. He was a brave officer, but a fiery austere hothead. Whenever he had a dispute with a brother officer, and that was pretty often, he would never resort to pistols and swords, but always to his fists. I have more than once or twice seen him with a "black eye," and have seen other officers that he had honoured with the same badge.

As I have said before, I shall not be very minute in relating my "adventures" during my continuance in this service. The duty of the Light Infantry is the hardest, while in the field, of any troops in the army, if there is any hardest about it. During the time the army keeps the field they are always on the lines near the enemy, and consequently always on the alert, constantly on the watch. Marching and guard-keeping, with all the other duties of troops in the field, fall plentifully to their share. There is never any great danger of Light Infantry men dying of the scurvy.

We had not been long on the lines when our regiment was sent off, lower down towards the enemy, upon a scouting expedition. We marched all night. Just at day-dawn we halted in a field and concealed ourselves in some bushes; we placed our sentinels near the road, lying down behind bushes, rocks and stoneheaps. The officers had got wind of a party of the enemy that was near us. A detachment of Cavalry which accompanied us had taken the same precaution to prevent being discovered that the Infantry had.

We had not been long in our present situation before we discovered a party of Hessian horsemen advancing up the road, directly to where we were lying in ambush for them. When the front of them had arrived "within hail," our Colonel rose up from his lurking place and very civily ordered them to come to him. The party immediately halted, and as they saw but one man of us, the commander seemed to hesitate, and concluded, I suppose, not to be in too much of a hurry in obeying our Colonel's command, but that it was the best way for him to retrace his steps. Our Colonel then, in a voice like thunder, called out to him, "Come here, you rascal!" but he paid very little attention to the Colonel's summons and began to endeavour to free himself from what, I suppose, he thought a bad neighbourhood. Upon which our Colonel ordered the whole regiment to rise from their ambush and fire upon them; the order was quickly obeyed and served to quicken their steps considerably. Our horsemen had, while these transactions were in progress, by going round behind a small wood, got into their rear. We followed the enemy hard up, and when they met our horsemen there was a trifle of clashing; a part forced themselves past our Cavalry and escaped, about thirty were taken and a number killed. We had none killed and but two or three of the horsemen slightly wounded. The enemy were armed with short rifles.

There was an Irishman belonging to our Infantry, who, after the affray was over, seeing a wounded man belonging to the enemy, lying in the road and unable to help himself, took pity on him, as he was in danger of being trodden upon by the horses, and having shouldered him was staggering off with his load, in order to get him to a place of more safety; while crossing a small worn out bridge over a very muddy brook, he happened to jostle the poor fellow more than usual, who cried out "Good rebel, don't hurt poor Hushman." "Who do you call a rebel, you scoundrel?" said the Irishman, and tossed him off his shoulders as unceremoniously as though he had been a log of wood; he fell with his head into the mud, and as I passed I saw him struggling for life, but I had other business on my hands than to stop to assist him. I did sincerely pity the poor mortal, but pity him was all I could then do. What became of him after I saw him in the mud, I never knew; most likely he there made his final exit. The Infantry marched off with the prisoners, and left the horsemen to keep the field, till we were out of danger with our prize, consequently I never heard any thing more of him. But the Irishman reminded me "that the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel."

Soon after this I had another fatiguing job to perform. There was a Militia officer, a Colonel, (his name I have forgotten, though I think it was Jones,) who had collected some stores of flour, pork, &c. for the use of the Militia in his neighbourhood, when any small parties of them were required for actual service. A party of the enemy, denominated "Cow Boys" (Refugees) had destroyed his stores. He solicited some men from the Light Infantry, to endeavour to capture some of the gang whom he was personally acquainted with, who belonged to, or were often at Westchester, a village near King's bridge. Accordingly, a captain and two subaltern officers, and about eighty men (of which I was one) was sent from our regiment, then lying at a village called Bedford, to his assistance. We marched from our camp in the dusk of the evening, and continued our march all night. We heard repeatedly, during the night, the Tories firing on our sentrys that belonged to the horse guards, who were stationed on the lines near the enemy. This was often practised by those villains, not only upon the Cavalry but the Infantry also, when they thought they could do it with impunity. We arrived at the Colonel's early in the morning, and staid there through the day. At night the Lieutenant of our detachment with a small party of our men, guided by two or three Militia officers, were sent off in pursuit of some of those shooting gentry whom the Colonel suspected. We first went to a house where were a couple of free blacks who were strongly suspected of being of the number. The people of the house denied having any knowledge of such persons, but some of the men inquiring of a small boy belonging to the house, he very innocently told us that there were such men there and that they lay in a loft over the hogsty. We soon found their nest but the birds had flown, upon further inquiry, however, we found their skulking place and took them both. We then proceeded to another house, a mile or two distant; here we could not get any intelligence of the vermin we were in pursuit of. We, however, searched the house but found none. But we (the soldiers) desired the man who attended us with a light, to show us into the dairy-house, pretending that the supected persons might be there, and he accordingly accompanied us there,—we found no enemy in this place, but we found a friend indeed, because a friend in need. Here was a plenty of good bread, milk and butter; we were as hungry as Indians, and immediately "fell to, and spared not," while the man of the house held the candle and looked at us as we were devouring his eatables. I could not see his heart and of course could not tell what sort of thoughts "harboured there," but I could see his face and that indicated pretty distinctly what passed in his mind; he said nothing, but I believe he had as lief his bread and butter had been arsenic as what it was. We cared little for his thoughts or his maledictions, they did not do us half so much hurt as his victuals did us good.

We then returned to our party at the Colonel's, where we arrived before daybreak; we staid here through the day, drew some pork and biscuit, and prepared for our expedition after the Cow Boys. At dark we sat off, accompanied by the Militia Colonel and three or four subaltern Militia officers;—this was the third night I had been on my feet, the whole time without any sleep, but go we must. We marched but a short way in the road, and then turned into the fields and pastures, over brooks and fences, through swamps, mire and woods, endeavouring to keep as clear of the inhabitants as possible. About midnight we crossed a road near a house, the inmates of which, I suppose, were friendly to our cause, as the officers ordered us to stand still and not to speak nor leave our places on any account whatever, while they all entered the house for a few minutes, upon what errand I know not. As soon as the officers joined us again we marched off. One of our sergeants having disobeyed orders and gone round to the backside of the house, unobserved by the rest of us, (it being quite dark,) upon some occasion best known to himself, we marched off and left him. We had not gone fifty rods before he returned to the place where we were standing when he left us, and not finding us there he hallooed like a brave fellow; but the Militia officers said that it would not do to answer, so we marched on and left him to find the way to camp, through what might with propriety be called an enemy's country, as well as he could; he, however, arrived there, with some considerable difficulty, safe and sound.

We kept on still through the fields, avoiding the houses as much as possible. I shall never forget how tired and beat out I was; every grove of trees or piece of woods I could discern, I hoped would prove a resting place, but there was no rest. About two o'clock we took to the high road when we were between the village of Westchester and King's bridge, we then came back to the village, where we were separated into small divisions, each led by an officer, either of our own or of the Militia, and immediately entered all the suspected houses at once; what we had to do must be done quickly, as the enemy were so near that they might have been informed of us in less than half an hour; there were several men in the house into which I was led, but one only appeared to be obnoxious to the officer who led us; this man was a Tory Refugee, in green uniform; we immediately secured him. An old man as blind as a bat, came out of a bedroom, who appeared to be in great distress, for fear there would be murder committed, as he termed it. I told him it was impossible to commit murder with Refugees. We directly left the house with our prisoner, and joined the other parties and hurried off with all possible speed.

When we had got away and day light appeared, we found that we had twelve or fourteen prisoners, the most or all of whom had been concerned in the destruction of the Colonel's stores. We did not suffer the grass to grow long under our feet until we considered ourselves safe from the enemy that we had left behind us; we then slackened our pace and took to the road, where it was easier getting along than in the fields. Oh! I was so tired and hungry when we arrived at the Colonel's, which was not till sun-down or after. The most of the fellows we had taken belonged in the neighbourhood of this place. As we passed a house, just at night, there stood in the door an elderly woman, who seeing among the prisoners some that she knew, she began to open her batteries of blackguardism upon us for disturbing, what she termed, the king's peaceable subjects. Upon a little closer inspection, who should her ladyship spy amongst the herd, but one of her own sons. Her resentment was then raised to the highest pitch and we had a drenching shower of imprecations let down upon our heads. "Hell for war!" said she, "why you have got my son Josey too." Poor old simpleton! she might as well have saved her breath to cool her porridge.

We here procured another day's ration of the good Colonel's pork and bread;—we staid through the night, and got some sleep and rest. Early next morning we left our prisoners, blacks and all, to the care of the Militia, who could take care of them after we had taken them for them, and marched off for our encampment, at Bedford, where we arrived at night, sufficiently beat out and in a good condition to add another night's sleep to our stock of rest.

We lay at Bedford till the close of the season. Late in the autumn, the main army lay at New-Milford, in the northwestern part of Connecticut; while there, the Connecticut troops drew some winter clothing. The men belonging to that State, who were in the Light Infantry, had none sent them; they, therefore, thought themselves hardly dealt by. Many of them fearing they should lose their share of the clothing, (of which they stood in great need,) absconded from the Camp at Bedford and went to New-Milford. This caused our officers to keep patroling parties around the camp during the night to prevent their going off. In consequence of this, I had one evening, nearly obtained a final discharge from the army.

I had been in the afternoon, at a small brook in the rear of the camp, where the troops mostly got their water, to wash some clothes; among the rest was a handkerchief, which I laid upon a stone or stump and when I went to my tent I forgot to take it with me. Missing it after roll-call, I went to the place to get it; it was almost dark, and quite so in the bushes, when I got there. I was puzzled for some time to find the place, and longer before I could find the handkerchief; after finding it I did not hurry back, but loitered till the patrols were out, for I did not once think of them. It had now become quite dark and I had to pass through a place where the soldiers had cut firewood;—it was a young growth of wood, and the ground was covered with brush and the stumps about knee high, quite thick. Just as I entered upon this spot I heard somebody challenge with "Who comes there?" I had no idea of being the person hailed, and kept very orderly on my way, blundering through the brush. I, however, received a second and third invitation to declare myself, but paid no attention to the request. The next compliment I received was a shot from them; the ball passed very near to me but I still kept advancing, when instantly I had another salute. I then thought, that since I had been the cause of so much noise and alarm, it would be best for me to get off if possible, for I knew that if I was brought before our hotspur of a Colonel I should "buy the rabbit." Accordingly, I put my best foot foremost; the patrol, which consisted of twelve or fifteen men, all had a hack at me, some of the balls passing very near me indeed; one in particular, passed so near my head as to cause my ear to ring for sometime after. I now sprang to it for dear life, and I was in those days tolerable "light of foot;" but I had not made many leaps before I ran my knee with all my force against a white oak stump, which brought me up so short that I went heels over head over the stumps. I hardly knew whether I was dead or alive;—however, I got up and blundered on till I reached my tent, into which I pitched and lay as still as the pain in my knee would allow me. My messmates were all asleep and knew nothing of the affair then, nor did I ever let them or any one else know of it till after the close of the campaign, when I had joined my regiment in the line and was clear of the southern officers. But my knee was in a fine pickle,—the next morning it was swelled as big as my head, and lame enough; however, it did not long remain so. When I was questioned by the officers, or any of the men how I came by my wound, I told them I fell down, and thus far I told the truth; but when any one asked me how I came to fall down, I was compelled to equivocate a little.

I had often heard of some of the low bred Europeans, especially Irishmen, boxing with each other in good fellowship, as they termed it; but I could not believe it till I was convinced by actual demonstration. While we tarried here, I was one day at a sutler's tent, or hut, where were a number of what we Yankees call "Old countrymen;" soon after entering the hut, I observed one who was, to appearance, "pretty well over the bay." Directly there came in another who, it appeared, was an old acquaintance of the former's; they seemed exceeding glad to see each other, and so must take a drop of "the cratur" together; they then entered into conversation about former times. The first mentioned was a stout athletic fellow, the other was a much smaller man. All of a sudden the first says, "faith, Jammy, will you take a box." "Aye, and thank ye too," replied the other. No sooner said than done, out they went, and all followed to see the sport, as they thought it, I suppose; it was a cold frosty day, in the month of December, the ground all around the place, was ploughed and frozen as hard as a pavement. They immediately stripped to the buff, and a broad ring was directly formed for the combatants, (and they needed a broad one,) when they prepared for the battle. The first pass they made at each other, their arms drawing their bodies forward, they passed without even touching either; the first that picked them up was the frozen ground, which made the claret, as they called the blood, flow plentifully. They, however, with considerable difficulty, put themselves into a position for a second bout, when they made the same pass-by as at the first. The little fellow, after getting upon his feet again, as well as he could, cried out, "I am too drunk to fight," and crawled off as fast as he was able, to the sutler's hut again, the other followed, both as bloody as butchers, to drink friends again, where no friendship had been lost. And there I left them and went to my tent, thankful that Yankees, with all their follies, lacked such a refined folly as this.

The main army, about this time, quitted the eastern side of the Hudson river and passed into New-Jersey, to winter-quarters; the Connecticut and New-Hampshire troops went to Reading and Danbury, in the western part of Connecticut. The Light Infantry, likewise, broke up their encampment at Bedford, and separated to join their respective regiments in the line. On our march to join our regiment, some of our gentlemen officers happening to stop at a tavern, or rather a sort of grog-shop, took such a seasoning, that two or three of them became "quite frisky," as the old Indian said of his young squaw. They kept running and chasing each other backward and forward by the troops, as they walked along the road, acting rediculously. They soon, however, broke up the sport, for two of them at last, got by the ears, to the no small diversion of the soldiers, (for nothing could please them better than to see the officers quarrel amongst themselves.) One of the officers used his sword in the scabbard, the other a cane, and as the song says,

At every stroke their jackets did smoke
As though they had been all on fire.

Some of the other officers who had not dipped their bills quite so deep, parted them, at the same time representing to them the ridiculous situation they stood in, fighting like blackguards in sight of the soldiers;—at length shame, so far as they had reason to let it operate, beginning to take hold of them, the other officers persuaded them to shake hands in token of future friendship, but they carried wonderful long faces all the rest of the day.

We arrived at Reading about Christmas or a little before, and prepared to build huts for our winter-quarters. And now came on the time again between grass and hay; that is, the winter campaign of starving. We had not long been here under the command of Gen. Putnam, before the old gentleman heard, or fancied he heard that a party of the enemy were out somewhere "down below;" we were alarmed about midnight, and as cold a night as need be, and marched off to find the enemy (if he could be found.) We marched all the remaining part of the night and all the forenoon of the next day, and when we came where they were, they were not there at all at all, as the Irishman said. We now had nothing more to do but to return as we came, which we immediately set about. We marched back to Bedford, near the encamping ground I had just left. We were conducted into our bedroom, a large wood, by our landlords, the officers, and left to our repose, while the officers stowed themselves away snugly in the houses of the village, about half a mile distant. We struck us up fires and lay down to rest our weary bones, all but our jawbones, they had nothing to weary them. About midnight it began to rain which soon put out all our fires, and by three or four o'clock it came down in torrents—there we were, but where our careful officers were, or what had become of them we knew not, nor did we much care. The men began to squib off their pieces in derision of the officers, supposing they were somewhere amongst us, and careless of our condition; but none of them appearing, the men began firing louder and louder, till they had brought it to almost a running fire. At the dawn, the officers, having, I suppose, heard the firing, came running from their warm dry beds, almost out of breath, exclaiming, "poor fellows! are you not almost dead?" We might have been for aught they knew or cared.—However, they marched us off to the village, wet as drowned rats, put us into the houses, where we remained till the afternoon and dried ourselves. It cleared off towards night and about sundown we marched again for camp, which was about twenty miles distant; we marched till some time in the evening when we were ordered to get into the houses, under the care of the non-commissioned officers, the commissioned officers having again taken care of themselves, at an early hour of the night. Myself and ten or fifteen others of our company being under the charge of our orderly sergeant, could not get any quarters, as the people at every house made some excuse, which he thought all true. We kept pushing on till we had got three or four miles in advance of the troops; we then concluded to try for lodgings no longer, but to make the best of our way to camp, which we did, and arrived there in the latter part of the night. I had nothing to do but to endeavour to get a little rest, for I had no cooking, although I should have been very glad to have had it to do.

The rest of the troops arrived in the course of the day, and at night, I think, we got a little something to eat, but if we did not, I know what I got by the jaunt, for I got a pleurisy which laid me up for some time. When I got so well as to work I assisted in building our winter huts. We got them in such a state of readiness that we moved into them about new-year's day. The reader may take my word if he pleases, when I tell him we had nothing extraordinary, either of eatables or drinkables to keep a new-year or house warming. And as I have got into winter-quarters again, I will here bring my third campaign to a close.

1. Professor Silliman has said, on the authority of a certain Dr. Somebody, that jack-o-lanterns never move. With due submission to such high authority, I would crave their pardon for telling them that they labour under a mistake. I have seen many of these exhalations, two of which I am satisfied beyond a doubt were moving when I saw them, the one mentioned in the text and the other when I was a youngster. I was one evening walking in a lane in a sequestered place, the road crossing a low boggy piece of land, when I saw one of these meteors, if they may be so called, coming down the low ground before the wind, which was quick, it crossed the road within ten feet of me and passed on till it was lost in the distance. Now I could not be deceived in this instance; I saw it, and I could see with my natural eyes as well as a philosopher could with his. But I have lately heard of a new idea concerning them,—that is, that they are a species of glowworm in their butterfly state. If that is the case, they must of necessity move, the opinion of those scientific gentlemen to the contrary, notwithstanding.