The lieutenant smiled at the lad's words as he replied, "That's all right. You're a well-grown fellow, and I doubt not they'll find a place somewhere for you in the Jersey militia. There are younger fellows than you there."
"So I hear," replied Tom eagerly. "Indian John told me the army was over by Hopewell, and had halted there, so I thought I'd put straight for that place."
"There isn't very much of the militia there now," said the lieutenant. "They're mostly regulars at Hopewell, and I doubt not have started from there before this."
"Where are the militia then?" said Tom quickly. "I've got a rifle here, and if I'm to join them I want to know where they are."
"That would be a little difficult to say just at present, my lad," replied the lieutenant, assuming a more fatherly air than the difference between their years would seem to warrant. "That would be a little difficult to say."
As Tom plainly showed his disappointment, the young officer continued: "You see it's this way, Tom. It was early in the morning of the 18th when the last of General Clinton's forces marched out of the city of Philadelphia. They went by the way of Gloucester Point, about three miles below Camden, and then the entire force, with Knyphausen and his Hessians in advance, marched over to Haddonfield and halted there. We had means up at Valley Forge of finding out what was going on, and before they were fairly out of Philadelphia some of our scouting parties and light horse were in the city, and they gathered in about sixty or seventy prisoners and were back again at the Forge with the men and the news. By three o'clock that same day General Lee's division had started, and by five o'clock General Wayne's had gone, too. They lost no time over there, I can tell you."
"But I don't understand," said Tom. "Where are the militia, and what are you doing here?"
"That's what I'm explaining to you," replied the lieutenant. "Well, at five o'clock the next morning,—that was the 19th of June, you know,—Washington had the rest of the army on the march for Coryell's Ferry; but the roads were so heavy—for we've been having some great rains this month—that the divisions which had been sent out didn't cross the Delaware until Saturday morning, and the main body till Monday. And all this time the British were mighty careful, let me tell you. They thought Washington was after their baggage-wagons and stores, you see. Clinton and his main body moved out of Haddonfield on Friday, but he left Knyphausen and his Dutch butchers, as well as two brigades of the regulars behind him, while he marched eight miles up to Evesham and went into camp there. He wanted to keep his train of baggage-wagons well protected, you see, for the militia were doing all sorts of mischief. You wanted to know where they were. Well, that's where they were."
"They're away down at Haddonfield, then, are they?"
"No, no. But they'd been sent out to bother the British, you see, and try to hold them back by skirmishes and a few such gentle deeds. They were tearing up bridges and firing at the regulars from the woods, and doing all sorts of things. Why, when Clinton was marching from Haddonfield to Evesham, General Leslie, who was in command of his advanced guard, fell in with a party of these very militia I'm telling you about. Leslie hid some of his men in a rye-field, and they saw Captain Jonathan Beesley. He was a captain in the Cumberland County militia, you know, and had been in the army two years,—yes, and he was one of the best men we ever had, too, let me tell you. Well, Leslie's men saw Beesley and a couple of his officers reconnoitring in advance of their companies, and they fired on them. Captain Beesley was wounded, and of course they took him prisoner and carried him with them into camp. They tried to get him to own up what Washington's plans were, but Captain Beesley just stopped them by saying they wouldn't get a word out of him. And they didn't; but the next day the poor fellow died from his wounds. They'd taken him into Hinchman Haines's house, you see, and that was where he died. I understand that they buried him there with the honors of war, and I understand, too, that they've given permission for the body to be taken up and placed in the Friends' burying-ground down at Haddonfield. It may have been done before this, for all that I know. Captain Beesley was a good man. The redcoats couldn't do too much for him."