CHAPTER III.
ONWARD TO VALLEY FORGE.
"He is the freeman whom the truth makes free, And all are slaves besides." --COWPER.
The colony of North Carolina had long been ready for rebellion againstkingly authority. Governor Tryon had sown the seeds of discontent by hisunpopular measures, and the taxes levied upon the people that he mightbuild his "palace" at New Berne. This discontent had culminated in theinsurrection of the Regulators and the battle of Alamance, where wasmade the first armed stand against England. But Tryon was victorious,and the captured leaders of the insurrection were hanged on Regulators'hill in Hillsboro'-town. But from that field of Alamance, the defeatedpeople carried to their homes the same persistent, haunting dream ofliberty which was to rise incarnate when the tocsin of the Revolutionblew through the land.
That tocsin waked many an echo among the hills that surrounded the townupon the Eno. At the first call to arms, the older men had gone to thefield, some marching away to the north, others serving under thepartisan leaders throughout their own section. Now the youngerones--those who had been but boys when the cannon at Lexington made thepulse of the people first to quicken and throb--were going out to beartheir share in the fray.
For the past year the company of which Richard Clevering was a memberhad done service in the militia at home, keeping the Tories in asemblance of subjection, and now and then going to Sumter's aid when hemade one of those electrical sallies which were like lightning flashesamid the general storm. In this hard school Richard had learned hisfirst lessons in soldiering; but graver and sterner military work wasnow ahead, for the company was marching northward to aid in recruitingWashington's regular army, reduced and discouraged by the terriblewinter at Valley Forge.
When they started, the willows that fringed the Eno, that fierce littleriver that winds about Hillsboro', had already lost their wintergrayness, and, with the rising of the sap, had taken on that wonderfulgolden brown which is the aureole of the coming springtime. Thebluebirds had not yet come back to the fence corners, but the earth wassoggy with the thaw, and from under the whirls of last year's deadleaves, crocuses were holding up green signals to the sun. But as thetroop held their steady way to the north the spring signs disappeared,and hoar frost and bleak winds told that winter's reign was not yetover.
It was a long tramp up through the Virginia woods and along the saltmarshes of the coast, and down and up the desolate streams hunting aford. But youth and enthusiasm lighten many a burden, and to Richard thegreatest hardship was lack of news from Joscelyn. The thought of hertugged at his heart, and if his step ever lagged in the line, it wasbecause the memory of her face drew him back with that sickening senseof longing that youth finds so hard to resist. At every chance he senther a missive.
"Not that she will care, but just to show her _I_ do," he said, tryingto convince himself there was no bitterness in the thought.
Peter Ruffin, marching beside him, often looked at the knit brows andcompressed lips and smiled, guessing something of the cause; he said tohimself that it was safer to leave a wife behind than a sweetheart,since one was sure to find the wife waiting his return, while asweetheart might be gone with a fresher fancy. But little Billy Bryce,who could never have kept up with the line had it not been for Richard'said now and then, could not fathom the meaning of that dark look in hisbenefactor's face, and so was silent and sorry.
The March winds tore at them, and the storms pelted them as they trampedthe rugged roads or slept in their thin tents, and the bullets that theyhad intended for the enemy, often went to provide game for their dailysustenance. The Tories of the districts through which they passedsometimes rallied to oppose them, so that they had to fight their waythrough ambuscades, or, when the enemy greatly outnumbered them, slipaway under cover of night or by circuitous paths through the forest andswamps.
And so, at last, toward the end of March, they reached their goal--theencampment at Valley Forge, and shuddered at the desolation theywitnessed. As the little band marched down the streets of the militaryvillage, gaunt men who had survived the horrors of the winter came outto meet them with huzzas, and the drums beat a long welcome. Theircoming was as a thrill that runs through a half-numb body, a sign ofrevivification and awakened hope. But under it all was a sense ofunspeakable sadness that filled the hearts of the newcomers with astrange wistfulness of pity and admiration.
The succeeding weeks were given up literally to camp work, to ceaselessmustering and drilling under the vigilant eye of Baron Steuben, untilthe newcomers lost the air of recruits and bore themselves with thesemblance of veterans.
"We had hoped to fight under Morgan," Richard wrote his mother, "but,doubtless for excellent reasons, we are to be assigned to GeneralWayne's command, which just now sorely needs strengthening. Save thatMorgan is from our part of the country, the change matters not to me,since both men are fearless leaders. What I want is a fray, and witheither of these men I am like to get my fill."
Here there was a long blot on the page, as though the back of his quillhad been drawn along a line. In truth it had, for he had started to senda message to Joscelyn, and then with a sudden accession of determinationhad erased it, lest she come to think he had never anything in mind saveherself. But he fondled the letter as he folded it, knowing that herfingers would doubtless hold each page and her eyes travel along eachline, for his mother would share her news of him with her neighboursover the way.
Joscelyn Cheshire: A Story of Revolutionary Days in the Carolinas Page 3