Elsie Yachting with the Raymonds

  ELSIE YACHTING WITH THE RAYMONDS

  * * * * * *

  A LIST OF THE ELSIE BOOKS.

  _Arranged in the order of their publication._

  ELSIE DINSMORE. ELSIE'S HOLIDAYS AT ROSELANDS. ELSIE'S GIRLHOOD. ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. ELSIE'S MOTHERHOOD.

  ELSIE'S CHILDREN. ELSIE'S WIDOWHOOD. GRANDMOTHER ELSIE. ELSIE'S NEW RELATIONS. ELSIE AT NANTUCKET.

  THE TWO ELSIES. ELSIE'S KITH AND KIN. ELSIE'S FRIENDS AT WOODBURN. CHRISTMAS WITH GRANDMA ELSIE. ELSIE AND THE RAYMONDS.

  ELSIE YACHTING WITH THE RAYMONDS. ELSIE'S VACATION. ELSIE AT VIAMEDE. ELSIE AT ION.

  * * * * * *

  [Illustration (frontispiece)]

  ELSIE YACHTING WITH THE RAYMONDS

  by

  MARTHA FINLEY

  Author of"Elsie Dinsmore," "Elsie's Womanhood," "Elsie's Kith andKin," "Elsie and the Raymonds," "The MildredBooks," "Wanted--a Pedigree," etc.

  New YorkDodd, Mead, And CompanyPublishers

  Copyright, 1890By Dodd, Mead, and Co.

  All rights reserved.

  PREFATORY NOTE.

  The Author, having received many letters from young and interestedreaders, has decided to acknowledge them in this way, because feeblehealth and much work for the publishers make it impossible to write aseparate reply to each gratifying epistle.

  She also desires to freely acknowledge indebtedness for muchinformation regarding Revolutionary times and incidents, to Bancroftand Lossing; and for the routine at West Point, to an article inHarper's Magazine for July, 1887, entitled "Cadet Life at West Point,"by Charles King, U. S. A.

  M. F.

  CHAPTER I.

  The train, which for some hours had been running very fast and toonoisily to admit of much conversation, suddenly slackened its speed,and Lulu turned upon her father a bright, eager look, as though somerequest were trembling on her tongue.

  "Well, daughter, what is it?" he asked, with an indulgent smile, beforeshe had time to utter a word.

  "Oh, Papa!" she began in a quick, excited way, and quite as if sheexpected her request would be granted, "I know we're going through NewYork State, and I've just been thinking how much I would like to seeSaratoga,--especially the battle-field where the Americans gained thatsplendid victory over the British in the Revolutionary War."

  "Ah! and would Max like it, too?" the Captain asked, with a smilingglance at his son, who, sitting directly in front of them, had turnedto listen to their talk just as Lulu began her reply to their father'squery.

  "Yes, sir; yes, indeed!" Max answered eagerly, his face growing verybright. "And you, Papa, would you enjoy it, too?"

  "I think I would," said the Captain, "though it would not be for thefirst time; but showing the places of interest to two such ardentyoung patriots will more than compensate for that.--And there havebeen changes since I was there last," he continued, musingly. "MountMcGregor, for instance, has become a spot of historic interest. We willvisit it."

  "Oh, yes! where dear General Grant died," said Lulu. "I would like togo there."

  "So you shall," returned her father. "This is Friday; we shall reachSaratoga Saturday night, should no accident detain us, spend Sundaythere resting, according to the commandment, then Monday and Tuesday insight-seeing."

  "How nice, Papa," Lulu said with satisfaction. "I only wish Mamma Viand Gracie could be there with us."

  "It would double our pleasure," he replied. "I think we must go againsome time, when we can have them along."

  "Oh, I am glad to hear you say that, Papa! for I am quite sure I shallenjoy going twice to so interesting a place," said Lulu.

  "I, too," said Max. "I don't know of anything that would please mebetter."

  "I am glad to hear it, and hope there will be no disappointment toeither of you," their father said.

  But the train was speeding on again, too fast and too noisily forcomfortable conversation, and they relapsed into silence, the Captainreturning to his newspaper, Max to a book which he seemed to find veryinteresting, while his sister amused herself with her own thoughts.

  Lulu was feeling very happy; she had been having so pleasant a summerout in the West with Papa and Maxie, and was enjoying the homewardjourney,--or rather the trip to the sea-shore, where the rest ofthe family were, and where they all expected to remain till the endof the season,--the prospect of seeing Saratoga and its historicalsurroundings, and other places of interest,--a view of which could behad from the boat as they passed down the Hudson; for she and Max hadboth expressed a preference for that mode of travel, and their fatherhad kindly consented to let them have their wish. She thought herself avery fortunate little girl, and wished with all her heart that Graciecould be there with them and share in all their pleasures.

  Dear Gracie! they had never been separated for so long a time before,and Lulu was in such haste for the meeting now that she could almostbe willing to resign the pleasure of a visit to Saratoga that theymight be together the sooner. But no, oh, no, it would never do to missa visit there! It would defer their meeting only a day or two, and sheshould have all the more to tell; not to Gracie only, but to EvelynLeland and Rosie Travilla. Ah, how enjoyable that would be! Oh, howfull of pleasure life was now that Papa was with them all the time, andthey had such a sweet home of their very own!

  With that thought she turned toward him, giving him a look of ardentaffection.

  He was still reading, but glanced from his paper to her just in time tocatch her loving look.

  "My darling!" he said, bending down to speak close to her ear, andaccompanying the words with a smile full of fatherly affection. "Ifear you must be growing very weary with this long journey," he added,putting an arm about her and drawing her closer to him.

  "Oh, no, not so very, Papa!" she answered brightly; "but I'll be everso glad when we get to Saratoga. Don't you think it will be quite arest to be out of the cars for a day or two?"

  "Yes; and I trust you will find them less wearisome after your threedays at Saratoga."

  "What time shall we reach there, Papa?" asked Max.

  "Not long before your bed-time, I understand," replied the Captain.

  "Then we cannot see anything before Monday?"

  "You will see something of the town in walking to church day afterto-morrow."

  "And we can start out bright and early on Monday to visit places ofinterest," added Lulu; "can't we, Papa?"

  "Yes, if you will be careful to be ready in good season. We want to seeall we can in the two days of our stay."

  "And I don't believe we'll find Lu a hindrance, as some girls wouldbe," said Max. "She's always prompt when anything is to be done."

  "I think that is quite true, Max," their father remarked, looking fromone to the other with a smile that was full of paternal love and pride;"and of you as well as of your sister."

  "If we are, Papa, it is because you have trained us to punctuality andpromptness," returned the lad, regarding his father with eyes full ofadmiring filial affection.

  "And because you have heeded the lessons I have given you," added theCaptain. "My dear children, when I see that you are doing so, it givesme a glad and thankful heart."

  They reached Saratoga the next evening more than an hour earlier thanthey had expected; and as the moon was nearly full, they were, muchto the delight of Max and Lulu, able to wander about the town for anhour or more after tea, enjoying the sight of the beautiful groundsand residences, and the crowds of people walking and driving along thestreets, or sitting in the porches. They visited Congress Park also,drank from its springs, strolled through its porches out into thegrounds, wandered along the walks, and at length entered the
pavilion.

  Here they sat and rested for awhile; then the Captain, consulting hiswatch, said to his children, "It is nine o'clock, my dears; time thattired travellers were seeking their nests."

  He rose as he spoke, and taking Lulu's hand, led the way, Max close inthe rear.

  "Yes, Papa, I'm tired enough to be very willing to go to bed," saidLulu; "but I hope we can come here again on Monday."

  "I think it altogether likely we shall be able to do so," he replied.

  "If we are up early enough we might run down here for a drink of thewater before breakfast on Monday," said Max. "Can't we, Papa?"

  "Yes, all three of us," replied the Captain. "Let us see who will beready first."

  They passed a quiet, restful Sabbath, very much as it would have beenspent at home; then, on Monday morning, all three were up and dressedin season for a visit to some of the nearer springs before breakfast.

  They went to the Park together, took their drinks, returned after but afew minutes spent in the garden, breakfasted, and shortly after leavingthe table were in a carriage on their way to Schuylerville.

  They visited the battle-ground first, then the place of surrender, withits interesting monument.

  "We will look at the outside first," the Captain said, as they drewnear it. "It is called the finest of its kind, and stands upon thecrowning height of Burgoyne's intrenched camp."

  "I wonder how high it is," Max said inquiringly, as they stood at somedistance from the base, he with his head thrown back, his eyes fixedupon the top of the shaft.

  "It is said to be more than four hundred and fifty feet above the levelof the river," replied his father.

  "Oh, I wonder if we couldn't see the battle-field from the top!"exclaimed Lulu, excitedly. "I suppose they'll let us climb up there,won't they, Papa?"

  "Yes, for a consideration," returned the Captain, smiling at her eagerlook; "but first let us finish our survey of the outside."

  "What kind of stone is this, sir?" asked Max, pointing to the base.

  "Light granite," replied his father. "And the shaft is of dark granite,rough hewn, as you will notice."

  "And there are gables," remarked Lulu,--"great high ones."

  "Yes; nearly forty feet high, and resting at their bases upon graniteeagles with folded wings. Observe, too, the polished granite columns,with carved capitals, which all the cornices of doors and windows restupon."

  "And the niches over the doors," said Max, still gazing upward as theywalked slowly around the shaft, "one empty I see, each of the otherswith a statue in it. Oh, they are the generals who commanded our troopsin the battle!"

  "Yes," said his father, "Generals Schuyler, Morgan, and Gates,--whoby the way was hardly worthy of the honour, as he gave evidence ofcowardice, remaining two miles away from the field of battle, all readyfor a possible retreat, while Burgoyne was in the thickest of thefight. The fourth and empty one, do you not see, has the name of Arnoldcarved underneath it."

  "Oh, yes, Arnold the traitor!" exclaimed Max. "How _could_ he turnagainst his country? But, Papa, he did do good service in this battleand some of the earlier ones, and it's such a pity he turned traitor!"

  "Yes, a very great pity!" assented the Captain, heaving an involuntarysigh. "While detesting his treachery, I have always felt that he hasnot received deserved credit for his great services in the earlier partof the war,--the expedition to Canada, and besides smaller engagements,the terrible battle of Valcour Island, Lake Champlain, in which he wasdefeated only by the great superiority of the enemy in numbers of bothmen and vessels. Though beaten, he brought away to Ticonderoga hisremaining vessels and surviving troops. His obstinate resistance sodiscouraged the British general, Carleton, that he retired to Montrealfor the winter, which made it possible for the Northern army to sparethree thousand troops to help Washington in striking his great blows atPrinceton and Trenton."

  "And after all that, as I remember reading," said Max, "Congresstreated Arnold shamefully, promoting other officers over his head whoneither stood so high in rank nor had done half the service he had. I'msure his anger at the injustice was very natural; yet he still foughtbravely for his country,--didn't he, Papa?"

  "Yes; and all that occurred some months before this battle of Saratoga,in which he did such service. Ah, if his career had ended thereand then, what a patriot he would now be considered! It is almostcertain that if he had been properly reinforced by Gates, he wouldhave inflicted a crushing defeat upon Burgoyne at, or shortly after,the battle of Freeman's farm. But Gates was very jealous of Arnold,disliking him as a warm friend of General Schuyler, and the two had afierce quarrel between that battle and the one of Saratoga, occasionedby Gates, prompted by his jealousy, taking some of Arnold's best troopsfrom his command. Arnold then asked and received permission to returnto Philadelphia; but the other officers, perceiving that another anddecisive battle was about to be fought, persuaded Arnold to remainand share in it, as they had no confidence in Gates, who was, withoutdoubt, a coward. He showed himself such by remaining in his tent whilethe battle was going on, though Burgoyne was, as I have said, in thethick of it. It was a great victory that crowned our arms on the 7th ofOctober, 1777, and was due more to Arnold's efforts than to those ofany other man, though Morgan also did a great deal to win it."

  "Wasn't Arnold wounded in this battle, Papa?" asked Max.

  "Yes, severely, in the leg which had been hurt at Quebec. It was justat the close of the battle. He was carried on a litter to Albany,where he remained, disabled, till the next spring. One must everdetest treason and a traitor; yet I think it quite possible--evenprobable--that if Arnold had always received fair and just treatment,he would never have attempted to betray his country as he afterwarddid. Now we will go inside, and see what we can find of interest there."

  The Captain led the way as he spoke.

  They lingered awhile in the lower room examining with great interestthe tablets and historical pictures, sculptured in bronze, _altorilievo_, which adorned its walls.

  "Oh, Papa, see!" cried Lulu; "here is Mrs. Schuyler setting fire to afield of wheat to keep the British from getting it, I suppose."

  "Yes," her father said; "these are Revolutionary scenes."

  "Here is George III.," said Max, "consulting with his ministers how heshall subdue the Americans. Ha, ha! they did their best, but couldn'tsucceed. My countrymen of that day would be free."

  "As Americans always will, I hope and believe," said Lulu. "I feel sureyour countrywomen will anyhow."

  At that her father, giving her a smile of mingled pleasure andamusement, said, "Now we will go up to the top of the shaft, and take abird's-eye view of the surrounding country."

  They climbed the winding stairway to its top, and from thence had aview of not only the battle-field, but of other historic spots alsolying in all directions.

  Max and Lulu were deeply interested, and had many questions to ask,which their father answered with unfailing patience.

  But, indeed, ardent patriot that he was, he keenly enjoyed making hischildren fully acquainted with the history of their country, and therewas much connected with the surrounding scenes which it was a pleasureto relate, or remind them of, as having happened there.

  From the scenes of the fight and the surrender they drove on tothe Marshall place, the Captain giving the order as they reseatedthemselves in the carriage.

  "The Marshall place, Papa? What about it?" asked Max and Lulu in abreath.

  "It is a house famous for its connection with the fighting in theneighbourhood of Saratoga," replied the Captain. "It was there theBaroness Riedesel took refuge with her children on the 10th of October,1777, about two o'clock in the afternoon, going there with her threelittle girls, trying to get as far from the scene of conflict as shewell could."

  "Oh, yes, sir!" said Max. "I remember, now, that there was a BaronRiedesel in the British army,--a Hessian officer, in command of fourthousand men; wasn't he, Papa?"

  "Yes; and his wife seems to have been a lovely woman. S
he nursed poorGeneral Frazer in his dying agonies. You may remember that he waskilled by one of Morgan's men in the battle of Bemis Heights, orSaratoga, fought on the 7th,--or rather, I should say, he was mortallywounded and carried to the Taylor House, where the Baroness Riedeselhad prepared a dinner for the officers, which was standing partlyserved upon the table. He lay there in great agony until the nextmorning, and then died."

  "Oh, yes, Papa, I remember about him!" said Lulu; "and that he wasburied the same evening in the Great Redoubt, which was a part of theBritish intrenchments on the hills near the river."

  "Yes, the strongest part," said Max. "I remember reading of it, andthat the Americans opened fire on the procession from the other side ofthe river, not understanding what it was; so that while the chaplainwas reading the service at the grave, hostile shots were ploughing upthe ground at his feet, and covering the party with dust."

  "Oh, Papa, won't you take us to see his grave?" asked Lulu.

  "Yes, daughter, if we have time."

  "Here we are, sir. This is the Marshall place," announced the driver,reining in his horses in front of a modest-looking farm-house; "andhere comes a lad that'll show you round, and tell you the whole storyof what happened in and about here in the time of the Revolution."

  The Captain quickly alighted, helped Lulu out, and Max sprang afterthem.

  The lad had already opened the gate, and lifted his hat with a bow andsmile. "Good-morning!" he said.

  Captain Raymond returned the salutation, adding, "I would like verymuch to show my children those parts of your house here connected withRevolutionary memories, if--"

  "Oh, yes, sir; yes!" returned the boy, pleasantly. "I'll take you inand about; it's quite the thing for visitors to Saratoga to come overhere on that errand."

  He led the way into the house as he spoke, the Captain, Max, and Lulufollowing.

  They passed through a hall, and on into the parlour, without meetingany one.

  "This," said the lad, "is the northeast room, where Surgeon Jones waskilled by a cannon-ball; perhaps you may remember about it, sir. Thedoctors were at work on him, cutting off a wounded leg, when a ballcame in at that northeast corner and took off his other leg in its waydiagonally across the room. They gave up trying to save him, then, andleft him to die in yon corner," pointing to it as he spoke.

  "Poor fellow!" sighed Lulu. "I can't help feeling sorry for him, thoughhe was an enemy to my country."

  "No, Miss, it was a pity, and does make one feel sorry; for I supposehe really had no choice but to obey the orders of his king," returnedthe lad. "Well, the ball passed on, broke through the plank partitionof the hall, and buried itself in the ground outside. They say elevencannon-balls passed through the house in just a little while. For mypart, I'd rather have been in a battle than keeping quiet here to beshot at."

  "I certainly would," said the Captain.

  "I, too," said Max. "I should say there was very little fun in standingsuch a fire with no chance to return it."

  "Yes; and our people would never have fired on them if they had knownthey were women, children, and wounded men; but you see they--theAmericans--saw people gathering here, and thought the British weremaking the place their headquarters. So they trained their artillery onit, and opened such a fire as presently sent everybody to the cellar.Will you walk down and look at that, sir?" addressing the Captain.

  "If it is convenient," he returned, following with Max and Lulu astheir young guide led the way.

  "Quite, sir," he answered; then, as they entered the cellar, "Therehave been some changes in the hundred years and more that have passedsince that terrible time," he said. "You see there is but one partitionwall now; there were two then, but one has been torn down, and thefloor cemented. Otherwise the cellars are just as they were at the timeof the fight; only a good deal cleaner, I suspect," he added, witha smile, "for packed as they were with women, children, and woundedofficers and soldiers, there must have been a good deal of filth about,as well as bad air."

  "They certainly are beautifully clean, light, and sweet now, whateverthey may have been on that October day of 1777," the Captain said,glancing admiringly at the rows of shining milk-pans showing a temptingdisplay of thick yellow cream, and the great fruit-bins standing readyfor the coming harvest.

  "Yes, sir; to me it seems a rather inviting-looking place at present,"returned the lad, glancing from side to side with a smile ofsatisfaction; "but I've sometimes pictured it to myself as it must havelooked then,--crowded, you know, with frightened women and children,and wounded officers being constantly brought in for nursing, inagonies of pain, groaning, and perhaps screaming, begging for water,which could be got only from the river, a soldier's wife bringing asmall quantity at a time."

  "Yes, a woman could do that, of course," said Lulu; "for our soldierswould never fire on a woman,--certainly not for doing such a thing asthat."

  "No, of course not," exclaimed Max, in a scornful tone. "American menfire on a woman doing such a thing as that? I should say not!"

  "No, indeed, I should hope not!" returned their young conductor,leading the way from the cellar to the upper hall, and out into thegrounds. "Yonder," he said, pointing with his finger, "away to thesouthwest, Burgoyne's troops were stationed; the German auxiliaries,too, were resting from their fight, near Bemis Heights. Away to thewest there, Morgan's famous riflemen were taking up their positionalong Burgoyne's front and flank, while Colonel Fellows was overyonder," turning to the east and again pointing with his finger,"bringing his batteries to bear upon the British. Just as the BaronessRiedesel in her calash with her three little girls stopped before thehouse, some American sharpshooters across the river levelled theirmuskets, and she had barely time to push her children to the bottom ofthe wagon and throw herself down beside them, before the bullets camewhistling overhead. Neither she nor the little folks were hurt, but asoldier belonging to their party was badly wounded. The Baroness andher children spent the night there in the cellar. So did other ladiesfrom the British army who followed her to this retreat that afternoon.They were in one of its three divisions, the wounded officers inanother, and the common soldiers occupied the third."

  "It must have been a dreadful night to the poor Baroness and thoselittle girls," remarked Lulu, who was listening with keenest interest.

  "Yes, indeed," responded the lad; "the cries and groans of the wounded,the darkness, dampness, and filth and stench of the wounds, all takentogether, must have made an awful night for them all. I wonder, for mypart, that the women and children weren't left at home in their owncountries."

  "That's where they ought to have been, I think," said Lulu. "Was itthat night Surgeon Jones was killed?"

  "No, Miss, the next day, when the Americans began firing again harderthan ever."

  "Where were they firing from then?" Lulu asked.

  "The other side of the river, Miss; probably from some rising ground alittle north of Batten Kil."

  "Well, sir, what more have you to show us?" asked the Captain,pleasantly.

  "A plank cut and shattered at one end, probably by the ball that killedthe Surgeon. This way, if you please; here it is. And here is a rafterwhich you see has been partly cut in two by a shell. It was taken outof the frame of the house while they were repairing in 1868. Here aresome other bits of shot and shell that have been ploughed up on thefarm at different times. Ah! there are some things at the house Ishould have shown you."

  "We will not mind going back so short a distance," said the Captain,"and would be glad to see everything you have to show us."

  "Yes, sir; and I think you will say these things are worth looking at."

  He led them back into the house and exhibited, first, a gold coin withthe figure and inscription of George III. on one side, the British armsand an inscription with the date 1776 on the other, then a curiousold musket, with bayonet and flint lock, which was carried in theRevolutionary War by an ancestor of the family now residing there.