The Young Continentals at Monmouth

The Claflins occupied a fine old house overhung by giant elms; and in the drawing-room of this Ben was greeted by Lieutenant Claflin and his father.

“Pray you sit down and take the chill of the road out of your bones,” said the old gentleman, placing a chair for the boy.

A fine fire of billets was roaring away in the fireplace; Ben sat down with the others, and in a very few moments their talk was all of the subject nearest their hearts.

“Such villainy!” said old Mr. Claflin. “I never dreamed of such.”

“They have approached the point of it, at least,” said the lieutenant. “As you told me that night at the Crossed Keys, an attempt is to be made to draw young Lafayette away from General Washington.”

“You have learned something of this definitely, then?” asked Ben, eagerly.

“Yes. According to your plan I have used all my time since being here in convincing them that I am not averse to their views, and——”

Old Mr. Claflin gestured his distaste.

“I would there had been another way of doing this,” said he. “I have no liking for double dealing in any form.”

“Nor I,” said the young lieutenant. “But to deceive them was perhaps the only way to success.”

“Without a doubt,” said Ben. “Such men as these refuse to fight in the open, or in such a manner that one can deal them a hearty blow. One must adopt their own methods if they are to be fought at all.”

“I suppose you are right,” sighed old Mr. Claflin. “Fight fire with fire.”

“They have come to consider us as sharing their views,” spoke the lieutenant, “and have grown less and less averse to speaking their minds before us.”

“The house is alive with them,” said old Mr. Claflin. “And never such a crew of sordid conspirators did I encounter anywhere. They mask their desires, to be sure, behind a pretense that what they advocate is for the country’s good. But,” with a gesture of contempt, “not for a moment do they lose sight of their own personal ends.”

“Lafayette has been offered an independent command,” said Lieutenant Claflin. “An expedition is to be organized against Canada; if he will accept he is to be placed at the head of it, with General Conway second in command. According to their plans, the latter, by his superior experience and natural military talents, would soon assume the real command.”

“I see.”

“This is supposed to have two results. The Marquis will be drawn away from the immediate influence of Washington, and the favor shown him by those opposed to the commander-in-chief will bind him to them permanently.”

Ben sat with his chin resting in his hand, his eyes staring into the fire.

“A separate command,” said he, musingly. “And not only that, but a command that is to be pushed forward to immediate conquest. The conquering of Canada has been the ambition of many of our generals. And to have an opportunity of doing what so fearless and able a soldier as Arnold failed to do, is a very great temptation.”

“You think, then,” quavered Mr. Claflin, “that Lafayette will not be strong enough to resist?”

Ben shook his head.

“No,” said he, “I think just the reverse of that.”

Lieutenant Claflin looked at Ben keenly.

“From your manner I would say that you know something that we do not know,” said he.

Ben did not reply to this, but continued:

“If it were preferment Lafayette sought, he would have remained at home, for there all the honors he could desire were at his hand. No; his ambition is much higher than mere personal advantage; and the command of an army will not tempt him.”

“He is to meet them here,” said the young lieutenant. “They are to have a dinner, a private dinner—and then they are to spread their net.”

“When is this to be?”

“To-night,” said the other. “Lafayette is already arrived in York, I understand.”

“It will be like the meeting of a band of low conspirators,” said old Mr. Claflin, thumping the stick, which he always carried, upon the floor. “If I could, I would take them all, and pitch them into the road.”

Lieutenant Claflin laughed.

“Patience, father, patience. That, though perhaps in another form, may come later.”

That day and the next passed, not without great anxiety to the Claflins. The possible winning away of Lafayette from Washington and the consequent bestowal of the expected favor of France upon his enemies was a matter of great consequence to them, for they, indeed, had the welfare of the nation at heart. But Ben Cooper did not join in their nervous talk; he remained very calm and thoughtful, though as the time for the meeting of the conspirators drew nearer, he displayed an eagerness that was noticeable.

Old Mr. Claflin looked at the long table with its spotless napery, shining china and fine old silver plate; the candles burned in high candlesticks at regular intervals, and a chair was placed for each expected guest.

“There is one for you,” said he to Ben. “I thought you’d like to hear what goes forward.”

“No, no,” spoke Lieutenant Claflin, hastily. “That would be impossible; how could we explain the presence of a stranger at such a time as this?”

“Far easier to explain the presence of a stranger than to explain mine,” laughed Ben. “You forget that my very good friends, Tobias Hawkins and Master Sugden, are both to be here. What would they say did they perceive me seated opposite them?”

Mr. Claflin struck his hands together.

“Why,” said he in comical vexation, “I had forgotten that entirely. To be sure! What could I have been thinking of? You are, really, the very last person in the world whom they should find here.”

However, the old gentleman had got it into his head that Ben should be a witness to the proceedings; and realizing that he could not show himself, he set about contriving a secret means of his seeing and hearing what took place. There was a small apartment adjoining the supper and reception rooms; and over the communicating doors of each there was a narrow transom. These the old gentleman had opened and a thin curtain was drawn across them, making them the best possible place of observation.

Ben was at once placed in this room, and with a book and a candle by the fire, began to while away the time. No great space elapsed before the knocker sounded, telling him that some of the guests had arrived. At once he put out his candle, and sat in the semi-darkness beside the fire, waiting.

Several persons were shown into the reception room, and as the door closed behind the man servant who had admitted them, their voices came plainly to the ears of the waiting lad.

“Br-r-r-r! A cold enough night, Sugden.”

“For all intents and purposes. But the season is none too cold for Price to make his way here from Phila——”

“Hush! It will be just as well not to speak too loudly of such things.”

Ben noiselessly arose, mounted a chair, and peered through the curtains at the transom. The two men stood before the fire, and their voices were pitched in a low key.

“It must have been something of importance to bring him all this distance in such weather,” suggested Sugden.

“Howe has made a most excellent stroke,” said Hawkins. Then, though Ben listened eagerly, the voice sank so low as to be almost unintelligible. “General Charles Lee is to be exchanged.”

“What,” said Sugden, “at this time? Surely not. Why, he is regarded as a military genius by the rebels.”

Hawkins laughed lowly.

“He is regarded so—yes. But is he really such? Howe does not think so, at any rate.”

“If the Americans but believe in him, that will be enough to give them heart. It should be Howe’s plan to keep them plunged in their present discouragement as deeply as possible.”

Again Tobias Hawkins laughed.

“Perhaps,” said he, “General Howe has a more complete plan than you think. What would you say——” here he bent forward and whispered a few words in Sugden’s ear.

“What!” almost cried the latter gentleman. “Is it possible?”

“Price tells me that it is a fact.”

“Why, then, in that case, we can even lose in the little affair of to-night, and still do no great harm.”

“In the face of this news,” smiled Tobias Hawkins, “the armies of France can support the armies of Washington if they see fit. It will make little or no difference. But for all that, let us make doubly sure, and win over this young Frenchman, now that we have him so nearly in our hands. I have found, by long experience, that it is not good policy to miss a single point, even though one apparently does not need it.”

The conversation continued, but in so low a key as to escape Ben’s ear. However, in a short time the other guests began to arrive, and when Lafayette, bubbling over with boyish good nature, finally put in an appearance, they entered the supper room and were soon doing the most complete justice to Mr. Claflin’s supper.

“A better cook,” declared General Conway, “none could find in all Pennsylvania.”

“There is a scarcity of cooks in your country, to be sure,” said Lafayette, smilingly to General Gates. “But our good host,” bowing to that gentleman, “seems to have found one, at least.”

“After the camp, gentlemen,” said Mr. Claflin, “the food has an unaccustomed relish, that is all.”

An hour passed in laughter, toasting, jest and feasting. Young Lafayette seemed vastly delighted with everything; and more than once Ben, through the transom curtains, saw Conway and Gates exchange meaning smiles. Then by degrees the conversation assumed a more sober hue; the army, its condition and prospects became the subject.

“Gentlemen,” said General Gates, at length, “since Congress saw fit to appoint me the head of the Board of War, I have conceived, as you all know, a project which, if it can be carried out successfully, will strike terror to the hearts of our enemies and at one blow put them at the defense. I refer to the conquest of Canada.”

A storm of approval greeted this.

“Gates! Gates!” was the cry. “A toast! A toast!”

But the general stayed them.

“We required a commander for this enterprise,” said he; “a commander of spirit, of dash and judgment. We looked about for such a one, and we had not far to look.”

Again came the clatter of approval; but once more Gates stopped them.

“There was but one such officer at hand,” said the general, continuing, “and to him the command was offered. I believe in encouraging genius—though to repress it seems more the practice in this army. Too long has this brilliant young soldier of whom I speak,” and his gaze went to Lafayette, “been held in the background. Knowing the past as some of us do,” here his eyes went to Mifflin and Conway, “we realize the chagrin that must now fill the breast of one who seeks to keep all the glory for himself.”

A thin hiss ran from lip to lip at this picture of official selfishness. Gates proceeded:

“The offer of the command of the Canadian expedition was made the Marquis de Lafayette. And we now ask him whether he accepts or no.”

Lafayette arose.

“I do accept,” he said. “I accept with the utmost gratitude. The command is a most important one, and I shall do my utmost to bring it to success.”

There was a chorus of cheers; the conspirators gathered about him, offering their congratulations.

“A toast!” cried a voice. “Gates! Gates! A toast.”

This time a number of others took up the cry.

“A toast, Marquis, a toast!” they demanded.

All eyes went from Lafayette to Gates. It was plain that the latter was the person to be toasted; and he stood smilingly expectant. Lafayette lifted his hand.

“Gentlemen,” said he, “I see by the clock that the time which I had to give this delightful occasion is more than passed. I must make the first stage of the journey back to Valley Forge before daybreak.”

“A toast! A toast!” cried the others.

“Very well,” said Lafayette. “Charge your glasses, since you insist.”

With a shout this was done; and all stood with eyes upon the youthful Frenchman.

“Gentlemen,” said he, “I give you the commander-in-chief of the American army—General Washington!”

A silence—pall-like and complete, fell upon all; if a writing in letters of fire had appeared upon the wall their surprise could not have been more great. For a moment Lafayette stood regarding them, contempt plain in his eyes; then he placed his glass upon the table, and said to Gates:

“General, I am yours to command whenever my services are needed.”

And with a formal salute, he turned and stalked from the room, leaving them speechless with surprise.