The next eight days were with the older people at Crag Cottage, as with the rest of the nation, days of anxiety and alternating hope and fear with regard to the dastardly attack upon the President of the United States. After that came the sad news of his death, and there was mourning all over the land, but mourning mingled with gladness that so good and capable a successor had been provided that the country seemed in no danger.

Eva was able to sit up now a part of each day, and her baby growing fairer, beginning to smile and to coo very prettily, thought her young mother and aunts—to say nothing of her proud and happy father. Max wanted to see wife and baby safe in their Sunnyside home, and all began to talk gaily of soon starting on their often-made southward trip in the Dolphin.

Grandma Elsie, doing all in her power for every one’s welfare and enjoyment, seemed content to go or to stay, as did her son Harold and his Grace; it mattered little to them where they were if only they might be together. The two couples—Captain Raymond and Violet, and Mr. and Mrs. Leland—seemed to enjoy themselves and to feel indifferent in regard to the exact time of leaving.

The days passed very pleasantly; there were walks and drives, trips up and down the river in the Dolphin, hours passed upon the porch, if the weather were fine, or the parlor, if it happened to be stormy, in cheerful chat, amusing games, or listening to interesting stories from Grandma Elsie or the captain.

And so the days and weeks rolled on until September was gone and October had come in. Then they felt that they must go—the calls from the loved southern homes were so many and so loud and re-echoed by their own hearts. They wanted to go, yet it seemed a trifle saddening to think of leaving this sweet place on the grand old Hudson River.

The last evening of their stay was lovely and warm for the season, and until the children’s bedtime they passed it on the front porch, where they had a view of the river.

A pause in the conversation was broken by a request from Elsie Raymond.

“Papa, won’t you tell us about another of the Revolutionary officers?”

“I am very willing to do so, daughter, but which shall it be?” the captain asked.

“I should like to hear about General Greene, if the rest of the folks here would,” she answered, glancing from one to another.

“I think we would all be pleased to hear about him,” said Grandma Elsie, “for surely he was next to Washington in bravery, talent for the work in hand, and success in using it.”

So the captain began.

“I think he had no other superior than Washington in the art and practice of war. He was a native of Rhode Island, the son of Quaker parents, brought up to be industrious and painstaking, and managed to get a good education largely by his own determined efforts in private study of ancient and English history, law, geometry and moral and political science; he was also fond of reading books upon war.

“Some few years before the Revolutionary War he was chosen a member of the Rhode Island Assembly, and was one of those who engaged in military exercises as a preparation for the coming struggle with England for the freedom which belonged of right to the people of this land.

“In 1774 he enlisted as private, and in 1775 was appointed to the command of the Rhode Island contingent of the army at Boston, with the rank of brigadier-general. He was with Montgomery and Arnold in their invasion of Canada. He was made a major-general in 1775, and distinguished himself in the battles of Trenton and Princeton.

“He commanded a division at the battle of Brandywine and did great service there. It is said that by his skilful movements then and there he saved the American army from utter destruction. He had part in the battle of Germantown also, commanding the left wing.

“Soon after the taking of Andre Washington sent orders to General Greene to put the left wing of the army near Tappan in motion as soon as possible, and march toward King’s Ferry. It was midnight when the express reached Greene’s quarters; before dawn the whole division was upon the march. But I think you are all pretty well acquainted with the story of Andre, his doings and consequent end; so I shall not repeat it here and now.”

“But, papa, won’t you go a little more into the details of the battle of Brandywine?” asked Grace.

“Certainly, if you wish it,” he replied. “Greene’s work was very important there. The British army was very much stronger than ours—they having eighteen thousand men, while ours were only eleven thousand. Washington had a very strong position at Chadd’s and Brinton’s Fords. The British hoped to drive him from it in turning his right flank by a circuitous march of eighteen miles up the Lancaster road and across the forks of the Brandywine toward Birmingham meeting-house. The British were safe in trying to do this, because their force was large enough to enable them to separate the wings of their army with little risk. Cornwallis conducted the movement in an admirable manner, but did not succeed in striking the American flank, because Washington made a new front with his right wing under Sullivan, near Birmingham meeting-house, so that Sullivan received the attack on his front.

“A desperate fight ensued, in which the British army, being so superior in numbers to ours, at length succeeded in pushing Sullivan obliquely toward the village of Dilworth. Had they succeeded in completing that movement it would have cut the American army in two and utterly routed it. But Washington sent a prompt order to General Greene, who commanded the centre behind Chadd’s Ford. Washington’s order was to stop the dangerous gap, and on receiving it Greene immediately obeyed, marching his troops five miles in forty-five minutes, and connecting with Sullivan near Dilworth, he averted the impending destruction of the army. Wayne had time to withdraw the centre and Armstrong the right wing, all in good order, and the whole army was united at Chester in excellent condition.”

“It strikes me,” remarked Doctor Harold, “that was hardly a defeat of our troops—the same careless writers have vaguely described the American army as routed at the battle of Brandywine. Surely an army cannot properly be said to be routed when it is ready to begin to fight again the next day.”

“No,” replied the captain, “and the fact that Washington’s manoeuvring prevented Howe’s return to Philadelphia for fifteen days shows that the Americans were not routed; and what saved from that was Greene’s memorable double-quick march to Dilworth and his admirable manner of sustaining the fight at that critical point.

“On the 26th of September, Howe, having eluded Washington on the Schuylkill, entered Philadelphia, stationing the bulk of his army in Germantown, and on the 4th of October the battle of Germantown was fought. Greene, intending to attack the front of the British right wing, was delayed by the difficulties of his route and the mistake of the guide, so did not get to the field as early as was planned, and the ground assigned to him was accidentally occupied by Wayne.

“When victory seemed almost won an unfortunate mishap turned the tide, and General Greene again with wonderful skill covered the retreat.

“In 1778 he was made quartermaster-general, accepting the office at Washington’s earnest solicitation, but reserving his right to command on the field of battle.

“On the 18th of June the British evacuated Philadelphia, and took up their line of march through the Jerseys. Hamilton and Greene urged giving them battle, and on the 28th of June a general attack was made on Clinton’s forces at Monmouth Court House.

“After the battle Washington marched northward, crossed the Hudson, and encamped in Westchester County, while Clinton continued his retreat to New York.

“And Greene, taking no rest, immediately attended to the numerous orders and dispositions required of him as quartermaster-general.

“On the coming of the French fleet it was decided to make a combined attack upon Newport. Greene wished to take part in it, and in August he took up his quarters with one division of the army at Tiverton.

“But the French had a variety of mishaps, chief among them the disablement of their fleet by a tremendous gale.

“Soon afterward Greene went to Philadelphia, at Washington’s request, to tell Congress of the late expedition and the causes of its failure, and there he was received with distinguished consideration.

“The winter of 1780 was one of great suffering to the American troops, for the lack of food and proper shelter. Congress seems to have been shamefully neglectful of them.

“Greene did so much for his country during the Revolutionary War that to tell of it all would make my story too long for to-night; but I shall try to give you some of the most interesting items.

“Greene was president of the board convened for Andre’s trial as a spy in connection with Arnold’s treason. With tears Greene signed the decree of the court condemning Andre to death.

“It has been asserted, but not confirmed, that Greene cast a deciding vote in the council against granting Andre’s prayer to be shot instead of hanged. The reason given was that if punished at all, Andre should receive the punishment meted to spies, according to the laws of war.

“Greene was given the post at West Point after it was left vacant by Arnold’s treason. Greene assumed the command early in October, 1780, but the failure of Gates in the southern field caused his recall in August, and by common consent Greene was considered the best man fit to retrieve the fortunes of the southern army.

“Congress empowered Washington to ask Greene to take Gates’ late command. Greene accepted the offered post and found a formidable task awaiting him. He took the command at Charlotte, 2d of December, 1780. In front of him was an army of three thousand two hundred and twenty-four men abundantly clothed and fed, well disciplined, elated with victory and led by an able general.

“To oppose this force he had an army of two thousand three hundred and seven, of whom one thousand four hundred and eighty-two were present and fit for duty, five hundred and forty-seven were absent on command, and one hundred and twenty-eight were detached on extra service; all these were half fed, scantily clothed, cast down by defeat, and many of them defiant of all discipline. Also the country was infested with Tories.

“To Greene’s bright mind it was evident that he could not face Cornwallis with such inferior numbers, and he resolved to divide his forces, by which means he might secure an abundance of food, keep the enemy within narrow bounds, cut them off from supplies from the upper country, revive the drooping spirits of the inhabitants, threaten the posts and communications of the enemy, and compel him to delay his threatened invasion of North Carolina.

“With the purpose of threatening the British left flank, Morgan was detached with his famous Maryland brigade, and Colonel Washington’s light dragoons, to take up a position near the confluence of Pacolet and Broad Rivers.

“With the other division, Greene, after a laborious march through a barren country, took post at Hick’s Creek on the Pedee, near the South Carolina line.

“Tarleton was hastening forward with his troops, expecting to strike a decisive blow at Morgan, whom it seems he despised, probably deeming him very inferior to himself in military knowledge and skill.

“He found Morgan, Colonel Washington and their troops prepared to receive him and his. Then followed the battle of the Cowpens, of which I told you the other day.

“Cornwallis was furious over that defeat, and set out at once in pursuit of Morgan, leaving behind whatever might hinder his movements.”

“But he didn’t catch him,” cried Ned, clapping his hands with a gleeful laugh.

“No,” said the captain, “Morgan managed to keep out of his reach, crossed the river first and kept on into North Carolina.

“But to tell in detail of all Greene’s doings down there in the Carolinas and Georgia would make too long a story for to-night.

“On the 9th of February, 1781, Greene, by a most brilliant march, succeeded in bringing together the two divisions of his army at Guilford Court House. He had expected reinforcements from Virginia, but as they had not yet arrived, he decided to retreat toward them and put the broad river Dan between the enemy and himself. In that he succeeded without loss of men, baggage or stores.

“Cornwallis had been pursuing him for two hundred miles, but his troops were now weary and discouraged by their fruitless march, and he therefore prudently retired to Hillsborough.

“However, Greene soon received his reinforcements, and, crossing the Dan, came to battle with Cornwallis at Guilford Court House. That battle was a tactical success for the British, yet the Americans gained a decided strategic advantage, for the enemy—too much shattered to go on with the contest—retired to Wilmington, and from there moved into Virginia to effect a junction with General Phillips.

“Then Greene at once turned southward with his army. His reasons were given in a letter to Washington: ‘I am determined to carry the war immediately into South Carolina,’ he wrote. ‘The enemy will be obliged to follow us, or give up the posts in that state.’ If the enemy did follow, it would take the war out of North Carolina, where the inhabitants had suffered great loss from them, and if the enemy left the posts in South Carolina to fall, he would lose far more than he could gain in Virginia.

“In the latter part of April of that year, the American army established itself in a strong position on Hobkirk’s Hill, near Camden, and on the 25th the British, under Lord Rawdon, attacked it there. It was exactly what Greene had been preparing for.

“The assault ought to have resulted in the total ruin of the British army; but through an accidental misunderstanding of orders, Greene’s very best men in the Maryland brigade behaved badly and he was forced to abandon his position. Yet, as usual, he reaped the fruits of victory.

“He had sent Marion and Lee to take Fort Watson, and their effort had been a brilliant success, and now obliged Rawdon to abandon Camden and fall back toward Charleston.

“Greene now had everything in his own hands, and went on taking fort after fort from the enemy, and also all the back country of South Carolina and Georgia.

“Now, Greene’s army had been moving and fighting for seven months. Of course, they must have been tired; so he gave them a rest of about six weeks in a secure position on the high hills of Santee.

“After that he met the British army, now under the command of Stuart, in a decisive action at Eutaw Springs.

“In the morning the British were driven off the field by a superb charge on their left flank; but after retreating some distance in disorder, they rallied in a strong position, protected by a brick house and palisaded garden, and succeeded in remaining there during the afternoon, but only because Greene desisted from further attack until the cool of the evening. For thus holding their position merely on sufferance the British army absurdly claimed a victory, and some careless American writers—who ought to know better—have repeated the error. Greene foresaw that the British must retreat at night; they did so, and he then renewed his attack. They were chased nearly thirty miles by Marion and Lee, and very many of them taken prisoners. Of the two thousand and three hundred men with whom Stuart had gone into battle, scarcely more than one thousand reached Charleston. There they remained for the next fourteen months, shut up under the shelter of their fleet.”

“The battle of Eutaw Springs was a great victory for the Americans, wasn’t it, father?” asked Grace.

“It was, indeed, a decisive and final one,” he replied; “at least, so far as the Americans in South Carolina were concerned. Congress testified its appreciation of it by a vote of thanks and a gold medal.”

“What was the date of that battle, father?” asked Lucilla.

“Battle of Eutaw Springs? Eighth of September, 1781. On the 14th of December, 1782, Greene marched into Charleston at the head of his army, and the next summer, when the army was disbanded, he went home. On his way there he stopped in Philadelphia and was greeted there by enthusiastic crowds and treated with great consideration by Congress—the men who had come so near depriving the country of his services.”

“Was the war over then, papa?” asked Elsie.

“England had not yet acknowledged our independence,” replied her father, “but did so on November 30, 1782, when preliminaries of peace were signed; those were changed into a definite peace on September 3, 1783.”

“But is that all the story about General Greene, papa?” asked Ned.

“Not quite,” replied his father. “Some two years after the war was over he removed to a plantation which the State of Georgia had presented to him, doubtless in acknowledgment of his great services there in ridding them of British tyranny. He is said to have lived there very happily, with a good wife and many congenial friends, in spite of having, through the dishonesty of an army contractor for whom he had become security, to bear a heavy pecuniary responsibility. He did not live to be old, dying at the age of forty-four from sunstroke.”

“What a pity!” exclaimed Elsie. “Had he any children, papa?”

“Yes; two sons and three daughters.”

“I think they must have been very proud of their father,” she said, after a moment’s thoughtful silence. “Thank you, papa, for telling us about him. I’d like to know about all my countrymen who have been great and good and useful.”

“As we all would,” added Lucilla; “and we may be thankful that we have a father who is able and kind enough to tell us so much.”

“Yes, indeed!” responded Elsie earnestly, and with a loving look up into her father’s eyes. “I thank him very much, and hope I shall never forget the good history lessons he has given us.”

“And now it is time for my birdlings to go to their nests,” said Violet, rising and taking Ned’s hand. “Bid good-night to papa and the rest and we will go.”