In the Days of Washington: A Story of the American Revolution

by William Murray Graydon

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Richard Stanbury, the father of Nathan, had come from England to America in 1760, at the age of twenty-six. He brought a wife with him—a pretty and refined woman—and they settled in Philadelphia. The next year Nathan was born, and five years later his mother died. The blow was a severe one to Richard Stanbury, and, the Quaker City being now distasteful to him, he removed with his son to New England. He accompanied the Connecticut colony to the Wyoming Valley in Pennsylvania—which grant they had purchased from the Delaware Indians—and took part in the long struggle with the Pennsylvania settlers who were found in unjust possession. When the warfare finally came to a peaceful end he settled down to a life of farming and hunting in that earthly paradise.

Richard Stanbury was a handsome and refined man, and a highly educated one. All with whom he came in contact were quick to realize his superiority, but in spite of that and his reserved nature, he made friends readily. He closely guarded the secret of his past, whatever it was, not even opening the pages to his son. But at times he hinted mysteriously at a great change that was likely to happen in the future, and he took pains to teach Nathan reading, writing, and history, and the rules of gentlemanly conduct. There was deep affection between father and son, and that the lad did not seek to know the mystery of the past was because he respected his parent's silence. He grew up to be brave and strong, generous and fearless, and few companions of his age could shoot with such skill or track game so untiringly through the forest.

Soon after the great struggle for liberty began, and the colonies were in arms to throw off the British yoke, many of the settlers of Wyoming left their families and the old men at home and marched away to join Washington. Richard Stanbury went with them; he was Captain Stanbury now, and commanded a company. Nathan, young as he was, burned to enlist and fight. But his father would not hear of this. He had long ago formed other plans for the lad, and now the time for them was ripe. To Philadelphia went Nathan, to attend the admirable college that the Quaker town boasted, and to find a happy home with Cornelius De Vries. The expense was to come out of the worthy merchant's pocket. He had claimed this right because of the long friendship between himself and Richard Stanbury, which dated from the latter's arrival in America.

So Nathan studied hard, a favorite with masters and pupils, while the first two years of the Revolution scored their triumphs and adverses. But he was not content to let others do the fighting, and when the British occupied Philadelphia, in the fall of 1777, the lad found at last a chance to help the cause of freedom. Several loyal citizens of the town had secret means of getting information about the plans of the British officers. These men were friends of Cornelius De Vries, and they came to know that his young lodger was a plucky and intelligent lad, and one to be relied upon. So Nathan was frequently chosen to carry messages to the camp at Valley Forge, where he sometimes saw his father, and where he made the acquaintance of General Washington and other officers. It was a very simple plan, and one that was not likely to be suspected. The citizens were permitted to take their grain through the British lines to the grist-mill at Frankford, and the lad would ride out after dinner on this errand. While the grain was being ground it was an easy matter for him to gallop to and from the American camp, then returning to the city by night with his sacks of meal.

As Nathan hurried away from the Dutch merchant's house on this February evening, he knew that he was wanted for some service of more than ordinary importance. "This is the first time I have been sent for at night," he reflected, "and I guess it means a dash through the lines. The sentries don't allow any trips to mill after dark."

He looked up to find himself passing the British barracks, which fronted on Green Street from Second to Third, and had been built soon after Braddock's defeat. Howe's army now occupied them, and the red-coated sentry at the gate glanced sourly at the lad in the gloom. Nathan went on, carelessly whistling a snatch of a tune, and presently turned down Fourth Street. A few yards from the corner, where a narrow bar of light streamed across the pavement from an open window, he collided with some one coming from the opposite way; both came to a halt.

"Why don't you watch where you're going?" brusquely demanded the stranger, who looked to be about Nathan's age, and wore a new and well-fitting British uniform.

"I might ask you the same," Nathan responded pleasantly, "but I won't. You see it's so dark hereabouts, and—why, Godfrey! I didn't know you."

"Nathan Stanbury!" cried the other, in keenest surprise and pleasure. "How glad I am to see you!" He held out his hand expecting it to be taken.