The Old Bell of Independence | Page 3

after a while they'll know more about
it--or say they do--than the men who were actors in it."
"That's not improbable," said young Harmar. "These historians may not
know as much of the real spirit of the people at that period, but that
they should be better acquainted with the mass of facts relating to
battles and to political affairs is perfectly natural." The old man
demurred, however, and mumbled over, that nobody could know the
real state of things who was not living among them at the time.
"But the little boy wants to hear a story about Washington," said
Wilson. "Can't you tell him something about the man? I think I could.
Any one who wants to appreciate the character of Washington, and the
extent of his services during the Revolution, should know the history of
the campaign of 1776, when every body was desponding, and thinking
of giving up the good cause. I tell you, if Washington had not been
superior to all other men, that cause must have sunk into darkness."
"You say well," said Smith. "We, who were at Valley Forge, know
something of his character."
"I remember an incident," said Wilson, "that will give you some idea,
Mrs. Harmar, of the heart George Washington had in his bosom. I
suppose Mr. Harmar has told you something of the sufferings of our
men during the winter we lay at Valley Forge. It was a terrible season.
It's hard to give a faint idea of it in words; but you may imagine a party
of men, with ragged clothes and no shoes, huddled around a fire in a
log hut--the snow about two feet deep on the ground, and the wind
driving fierce and bitter through the chinks of the rude hovel. Many of
the men had their feet frost-bitten, and there were no remedies to be

had, like there is now-a-days. The sentinels suffered terribly, and
looked more like ghosts than men, as they paced up and down before
the lines of huts."
"I wonder the men didn't all desert," remarked Mrs. Harmar. "They
must have been uncommon men."
"They were uncommon men, or, at least, they suffered in an uncommon
cause," replied Wilson. "But about General Washington. He saw how
the men were situated, and, I really believe, his heart bled for them. He
would write to Congress of the state of affairs, and entreat that body to
procure supplies; but, you see, Congress hadn't the power to comply.
All it could do was to call on the States, and await the action of their
Assemblies.
"Washington's head-quarters was near the camp, and he often came
over to see the poor fellows, and to try to soothe and comfort them; and,
I tell you, the men loved that man as if he had been their father, and
would rather have died with him than have lived in luxury with the
red-coat general.
"I recollect a scene I beheld in the next hut to the one in which I messed.
An old friend, named Josiah Jones, was dying. He was lying on a scant
straw bed, with nothing but rags to cover him. He had been sick for
several days, but wouldn't go under the doctor's hands, as he always
said it was like going into battle, certain of being killed. One day, when
we had no notion of anything of the kind, Josiah called out to us, as we
sat talking near his bed, that he was dying, and wanted us to pray for
him. We were all anxious to do anything for the man, for we loved him
as a brother; but as for praying, we didn't exactly know how to go about
it. To get clear of the service, I ran to obtain the poor fellow a drink of
water to moisten his parched lips.
"While the rest were standing about, not knowing what to do, some one
heard the voice of General Washington in the next hut, where he was
comforting some poor wretches who had their feet almost frozen off.
Directly, he came to our door, and one of the men went and told him
the state of things. Now, you see, a commander-in-chief might have
been justified in being angry that the regulations for the sick had been
disobeyed, and have turned away; but he was a nobler sort of man than
could do that. He entered the hut, and went up to poor Josiah, and
asked him how he was. Josiah told him that he felt as if he was dying,

and wanted some one to pray for him. Washington saw that a doctor
could do the man no good, and he knelt on the ground by him and
prayed. We all knelt down too; we couldn't help it. An