“My uncle has cast me off for carrying dispatches, and for being in the Paoli fight, where I got wounded,” the boy said, sadly. “I can do nothing for him now. So I have come to do what I can.”
“Well, well. I will speak to His Excellency about you. There is a certain long-legged Yankee hereabout who, if I mistake not, has been inquiring for you through the camp.”
“Lafe Holdness!” exclaimed Hadley.
“The same. He said he knew you had got away from Philadelphia; but where you had gone was another matter, and one of which he was not cognizant. Now, Master Morris, you will find your friend, Captain Prentice, somewhere to the west of here. Keep near him and then you will be near me. When the propitious moment comes to present you to the Commander-in-Chief, I shall want you in a hurry.”
The officers rode on, and Hadley sought out Captain Prentice. “My faith, Hadley!” was the captain’s exclamation, “but we’re a pretty pair of winged birds.” His own arm was still in a sling, but he had taken active command of his company again.
“You can scarcely call me winged,” said Hadley, “for the ball went through my leg.” He climbed down from Molly and allowed a soldier to take her away. He could scarcely walk, having been so many hours in the saddle; but Captain Prentice made him welcome and saw to it that he had a bed for a few hours, where he slept away much of his weariness.
At this time Washington’s forces lay about twenty miles from Philadelphia and fourteen from Germantown. For some days the Continentals had been resting after the arduous campaign which had followed the landing of the British troops. The officers were planning some important move; but the army was kept in ignorance of its nature until the night of the 3d of October. Then the columns were put into motion quickly and took the road to Germantown. It was to be a night march to surprise the enemy, and never did Hadley Morris forget it. He and his friend, Captain Prentice, were both mounted—the latter on a sorry nag which his orderly had picked up somewhere—and there might have been some ill-feeling expressed among the other officers of the infantry over Prentice’s riding had he not been wounded. But those fourteen miles were hard enough for both the captain and Hadley, despite the fact that they were not obliged to tramp through the heavy roads.
Before the head of the column was half way to Germantown, the night fog began to gather, and before daylight it was so thick that it was almost impossible to clearly distinguish figures moving a rod ahead. Just at daybreak, however, despite the fog which had enveloped the whole territory, sharp firing broke out ahead. The troops were rushed forward, and the British, who at first had supposed the firing to be but a skirmish between outposts, were quickly being driven back by a solid phalanx of Americans.
After the first surprise the enemy formed and stood their ground; but the attack of the Americans was so desperate that they would surely have been overwhelmed in a short time had it not been for two things. Howe, hearing early of the battle, rushed forward reinforcements and came in person to encourage his soldiery. And the other thing which stayed the Americans, beside the smother of fog, was the imposing mansion belonging to Master Chew, which, occupied by the British, was a veritable fort, and withstood every effort of the attacking force.
It was a stone building, and with its doors and lower windows barricaded, and a strong force of the enemy using the upper casements to fire from, it soon became the pivotal point on the battlefield. The British kept up a destructive fire upon the American lines from the house, and, in spite of the fog, the casualties were considerable. Attempts again and again were made to capture it. The American lines could not go past, and it guarded the way to the British front.