Rodney, the Ranger, with Daniel Morgan on Trail and Battlefield

by John V. Lane

  CHAPTER XVI

  RODNEY MEETS WITH REVERSES

  All historical accounts of the battle between the forces under Lewisand the allied Indians commanded by the Shawnee chief, Cornstalk,which occurred at Point Pleasant on the Ohio River, October 10, 1774,agree that it was the fiercest conflict which had been fought in thiscountry between white men and Indians led by an Indian, unaided by theadvice of any white officer.

  Cornstalk was a chief of unusual ability and good sense. He had beenopposed to the war, but, finding it inevitable, succeeded in raising aformidable army of the various tribes, and commanded them with suchskill and bravery that, in the battle, which lasted all day, theIndians fought doggedly and all but achieved a victory, which wouldhave made a very different affair of what is known as Dunmore's war.

  His spies had kept him informed of the movements of the two Virginiaexpeditions, and he resolved to attack them separately before theycould join their forces.

  Leaving scattering bands of Indians to delay the advance of Dunmore,he marched his main body of warriors to the Ohio River, crossed, andattacked the troops under General Lewis.

  This commander had wisely chosen a position on a point, having theOhio River on his left, Crooked Creek on his right, and the GreatKanawha at his rear. He was a veteran seasoned in the French andIndian war. With him was the courtly John Sevier, a French Huguenotplanning for fortune in the lands of Kentucky, James Robertson, a wiseleader of pioneers, and others of but slightly less distinction in theeyes of the hardy men who had gathered under their leadership.

  All day long the battle raged there among the trees of the forest. Thecolonists could hear the voice of Cornstalk as he passed from tree totree among his men, encouraging them. Rarely did they see more oftheir foes than a coppery gleam from behind a tree trunk, perchancethe arm or leg of a savage or a glimpse of his warlock, and it wassure death to leave the shelter of the trees.

  Toward night the company, with which David Allison at the time wasassociated, was ordered to make a flank movement. This was donewith great difficulty and danger. When the movement was nearlyaccomplished, the men leaping from tree to tree as they advanced,he fell with a bullet through the neck. A brawny savage leaped fromhis cover, knife in hand and greedy for a fresh scalp, when a ballfrom a colonist's gun stopped him half-way and he too went down inthe brush by the side of his victim. Over them leaped friend and foewithout heeding.

  Allison had fallen into a depression between two little knolls and thesavage in falling had swept the bushes down over him so that he wascovered from view. Later the Indians succeeded in dragging away theirfallen comrade but overlooked, fortunately, the body of the whiteman.

  General Lewis and his men were eager to pursue and thoroughly chastisethe Indians. They reasoned that, while they were about it, the onlywise thing to do was to administer such a defeat that the red peoplewould keep the peace for years to come.

  They crossed the Ohio and took up their march toward the Indian towns.When Dunmore's messenger arrived with orders for them to join him theywere angry. He had left them to their fate, they had won a hard earnedvictory and were determined to follow it to its logical conclusion.

  Lord Dunmore's force, after building a hastily constructed fort at themouth of the Hockhocking River as a base for their supplies, continuedto advance on the Indian towns. The savages had met overtures forpeace with evasive replies or delays until they heard of the defeat ofCornstalk at Point Pleasant, then they earnestly sued for peace.

  Cornstalk urged a continuation of the war, but in vain. The savageshad acted more determinedly under him than ever before, but now theywished to save their towns and crops from destruction.

  Dunmore moved forward to a place called Camp Charlotte. Lewis pushedahead to wreak vengeance on the savages, not stopping until a thirdorder had been sent him by Dunmore commanding him to halt.

  Lewis and his men thought this an interference with their rights.There were many heartburnings in his command, and rumours that Dunmorewas acting under the advice of England to put an end to the war weregenerally believed.

  Rodney obtained permission to visit the camp of General Lewis, eagerto find his father. He went without forebodings and with a feeling ofassurance that he should find him. The Indians had been defeated. Thecommand had won a glorious victory, and, as is usually the case, whileexulting over it, he overlooked the sacrifices made and hardshipsendured. He did not realize that General Lewis had lost half hiscommissioned officers and between fifty and sixty of his men. Whentold that his father, the man he loved above all others, was missingand undoubtedly had fallen in the battle, the blow was terribly hardto bear. He had known nothing like it, and made his way back to hisquarters as one walking in his sleep. There, Morgan chanced to findhim, his head bowed in his hands.

  "Homesick, my lad, or a fit o' the blues?"

  Morgan had a voice that sounded in battle like the roar of a lion, butin it, as he spoke to Rodney, was a tone of genuine sympathy and theboy broke down and sobbed, as though heartbroken. Throughout hiscaptivity and when in extreme danger he had not shed a tear.

  "Take heart, lad, an' let me know what I can do for ye."

  After the boy, struggling with his sobs, had told him, there wassilence for several minutes. Morgan's hand was laid kindly on theboy's shoulder, and finally he said, "I'd like to comfort ye, boy. Hewouldn't like ye to mourn. He'd say, if he could, 'just go ahead an'do yer duty.' Death comes to us all sometime. An' I want you toremember that Daniel Morgan'll never be too busy to lend ye a helpin'hand if it comes his way."

  A pressure of the sinewy hand on the boy's shoulder followed thewords, and the kindliness it signified went straight to Rodney'sheart. He never forgot it. That day another was added to the fullranks of those who loved Daniel Morgan and would follow where he led,though they might know certain death awaited them.

  Governor Dunmore sent runners to the Indian towns requesting thechiefs to meet him. All complied with the request save a few in thenortherly towns and Chief Logan. Major Crawford was sent with a forceto destroy the towns of those who had failed to respond to therequest, and in this force went the men under Morgan. They met with noresistance and, after burning the villages, the troops returned. Aninterpreter and a messenger were sent to Logan, and to them he is saidto have made the memorable speech, a model of dignified eloquence andsublime pathos, beginning: "I appeal to any white man to say that heever entered Logan's cabin but I gave him meat." Broken in spirit, heafterwards became a sot and was killed while in a drunken fury.

  Hostages having been taken from among the Indian chiefs andarrangements made for the return by the Indians of all whites heldcaptive by them, they promising to observe the Ohio River as theboundary of their territory, Governor Dunmore's army returned toVirginia.

  On arriving at Fort Gower they were met by the news that England hadclosed the port of Boston, hoping by this arbitrary measure to punishthe independent colonists. This news was doubtless received byGovernor Dunmore with delight, but it was otherwise with the greatmajority of those in his army. Expressions of sympathy for theBostonians were heard on all sides. Moreover, Dunmore's delight was tobe tempered with chagrin when he heard that the House of Burgesses hadappointed a day of fasting, as an expression of the Old Dominion'sdisapproval of England's act.

  For several months these men of Dunmore's army had been deprived ofwhat many, even in that day of primitive living, considerednecessities. For weeks at a time they had eaten no salt; they hadslept without other covering than the sky overhead. They werereturning victorious, yet believing that Dunmore, instead ofcontributing to that victory, had belittled it.

  Self-reliant, hardy, convinced they possessed in their own strong armsthe power to live and rear their families in this great country of thenew world without interference from England, they spoke very plainly.Meetings were held, and at one of these a speech was made which,alluding to what they had been able to accomplish, concluded: "Blessedwith these talents, let us solemnly engage to one another,
and ourcountry in particular, that we will use them for no purpose but forthe honour and advantage of America and Virginia in particular."

  A resolution was passed to bear faithful allegiance to King George,the Third, "while his majesty delights to reign over a free people," aproviso worth noting; also worthy of note is the fact that thisresolution pledged them to do everything in their power for thedefence of American liberty. Indeed, many of the men shook hands on anagreement to march to the defence of Boston if necessary. Some of themwere to be called upon to fulfil this promise.

  Such demonstrations away out there on the frontier ought to haveserved as a warning to the royalists, but they gave it little heed.The "Chevalier" forbore to take part and looked upon the whole affairwith a pitying smile. "I know of none more in need of being ruledover, than you, my merry lads," he said and laughed at the scowls inthe faces of his associates. He laughed, too, at the retort ofFerguson, "Sure, me gallant warrior, 'tis we as will have a word tosay aboot the ruler an' how he rules, mind ye."

  Ferguson had expressed the temper of the men composing the army, whilethe "Chevalier," with his confident smile, was a type of manythroughout the colonies who did not for a moment doubt the ability ofEngland to govern the new land as she might wish.

  At the post where the men received some of the pay for their service,Rodney Allison was to undergo temptations and experiences that were tocause him bitter reflections. The soldiers had endured privations and,as frequently happens, many sought relaxation in debauch at the firstopportunity. Liquor was to be had by those with money to pay for it,and many a frontiersman would not leave it until his last penny shouldbe spent and then would resume his life of wandering and peril. Withthe drinking there was gambling with cards and dice.

  The drinking had no attraction for young Allison; on the contrary helooked upon it with deep disgust. Ordinarily the gambling would havehad no fascination for him. Indeed, until his captivity, he had notknown one card from another. One of the accomplishments Ahneota hadlearned from his acquaintance with white men was the use of cards, forwhich he had a great passion, and to please him the boy had spent manyan hour playing various games.

  Rodney's grief over the reported death of his father, his dread ofreturning home with the sad news to face debt and poverty, colouredhis thoughts,--often woke him from sleep, and made him reckless. As hewatched the games he heard a familiar voice and, looking, sawMogridge at a table with large winnings at his hand. Rodney, from theday they first met, had cherished an unreasoning dislike for the youngEnglishman. He felt, rather than knew, that Mogridge had beeninstrumental in having his father dismissed by Squire Danesford. Theboy was shrewd enough to suspect the fellow had come on with otheradventurers to meet the army and fleece the unsuspecting. That moneyat his hand would clear the little home from debt and assureprotection for the family for the present. How cool and insolent thefellow was!

  "Sorry your luck runs so badly. The game's much less interesting, youknow," Mogridge drawled as he swept the poor fellow's money into hisown pile. Then, looking up and noticing Rodney, though it did notappear that he recognized him, he said in a bantering tone, "Hello,here's a young warrior who looks as if he'd like to tempt the fairgoddess, Chance, with a sixpence."

  With the hot blood pounding his temples, and scarcely knowing what hedid, the boy took the proffered seat.

  "I'll take a hand, if there be no objection," said a bystander with awink at Mogridge, which Rodney could not see.

  While the cards were being shuffled the "Chevalier" came along andremarked that the game would be worth watching. Neither Mogridge norhis "pal" seemed pleased, but the "Chevalier" remained standing wherehe could observe every movement of Rodney's antagonists. The cardswere dealt and played. The luck, which so often leads the amateur onto his downfall, smiled on the boy.

  "If the gentleman from London doesn't like the luck that goes with thewarrior's sixpence I'll let some worthier foeman have my place," saidRodney, who, now that his excitement had subsided, desired to leavethe game.

  Mogridge looked narrowly at the boy, but apparently failed torecognize him, and he replied, "Gentlemen usually grant theirantagonists an opportunity to win back the smiles of the ficklegoddess."

  "Deal," replied Rodney with an air of importance he was far fromfeeling.

  The "Chevalier" yet loitered near, and luck continued to run inRodney's favour. After four hands, and with quite a little pile ofwinnings before him, he wanted to leave the game, but was ashamed todo so. Then Mogridge said, "Let's double the stake," which was done.The cards were dealt, and the play was begun, when the "Chevalier"coolly remarked, "Card exposed. You'll have to deal over."

  Mogridge's little eyes looked like tiny, glowing coals, and closer tohis long nose than ever, but the cards were dealt again, and again theboy won. Then Mogridge and his confederate rose and left the tablewhile Rodney sat gloating over his winnings.

  "One who would accustom himself to the whimsies of Fortune must learnto lose as well as to win. In your behalf I will endeavour to instructyou in that part of the game, my boy. Won't you gentlemen remain tosee that I pluck the winner fairly?"

  "You're welcome to such small game. We didn't know we were poaching onyour preserves," replied Mogridge in a surly tone, walking away.

  Rodney was surprised. He had no desire to play with his friend. Yet ina masterful way the "Chevalier" appeared to take it for granted thatthey would play, and proceeded to deal the cards. The boy shrank fromsaying or doing anything which would excite the man's ridicule, for hehad come to regard him as a superior sort of a person, and wassomewhat in awe of his rather grand manner.

  The first game Rodney won. Then the "Chevalier" remarked, as though hewere doing the lad a favour, "Now we'll not prolong this; I must begoing. Here's my wager."

  To meet it required the last shilling of the boy's winnings, but hestaked it all, and the "Chevalier" won, coolly swept the money intohis pocket, all but a few shillings which he carelessly shoved towardthe boy, saying, "You'll need those to get home. It's bad practice towager one's last farthing."

  Friends of Rodney Allison would not have recognized him now as thesame fellow he was an hour before. Fury filled him to overflowing.That coveted money was gone and his own with it, taken by a man whoselife he once had saved, his supposed friend, who now had plucked himas one would a pigeon. He seized the money and threw it in theChevalier's face, then, as he reflected what his act signified, hegrasped the handle of his knife in readiness to defend himself.

  "HE SEIZED THE MONEY AND THREW IT IN THE CHEVALIER'SFACE."]

  The "Chevalier" fixed his handsome eyes on the boy. His face was palebut those burning eyes held the lad as under a spell. Then the manspoke, his words as cool as ice, his voice low but painfully distinct:"One might think, my boy, you had staked your character, your soul,and lost. That's what the gambler does. I did not realize this till Ihad killed my best friend. You will understand my motives better whenyou learn more."

  He turned away. The boy looked after him, and shame quenched the furyin his heart.