the scene of conflict as she well could."
"Oh, yes, sir!" said Max. "I remember, now, that there was a Baron Riedesel in the British army, – a Hessian officer, in command of four thousand men; wasn't he, Papa?"
"Yes; and his wife seems to have been a lovely woman. She nursed poor General Frazer in his dying agonies. You may remember that he was killed by one of Morgan's men in the battle of Bemis Heights, or Saratoga, fought on the 7th, – or rather, I should say, he was mortally wounded and carried to the Taylor House, where the Baroness Riedesel had prepared a dinner for the officers, which was standing partly served upon the table. He lay there in great agony until the next morning, and then died."
"Oh, yes, Papa, I remember about him!" said Lulu; "and that he was buried the same evening in the Great Redoubt, which was a part of the British intrenchments on the hills near the river."
"Yes, the strongest part," said Max. "I remember reading of it, and that the Americans opened fire on the procession from the other side of the river, not understanding what it was; so that while the chaplain was reading the service at the grave, hostile shots were ploughing up the 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; "and here comes a lad that'll show you round, and tell you the whole story of what happened in and about here in the time of the Revolution."
The Captain quickly alighted, helped Lulu out, and Max sprang after them.
The lad had already opened the gate, and lifted his hat with a bow and smile. "Good-morning!" he said.
Captain Raymond returned the salutation, adding, "I would like very much to show my children those parts of your house here connected with Revolutionary memories, if – "
"Oh, yes, sir; yes!" returned the boy, pleasantly. "I'll take you in and about; it's quite the thing for visitors to Saratoga to come over here on that errand."
He led the way into the house as he spoke, the Captain, Max, and Lulu following.
They passed through a hall, and on into the parlour, without meeting any one.
"This," said the lad, "is the northeast room, where Surgeon Jones was killed by a cannon-ball; perhaps you may remember about it, sir. The doctors were at work on him, cutting off a wounded leg, when a ball came in at that northeast corner and took off his other leg in its way diagonally across the room. They gave up trying to save him, then, and left him to die in yon corner," pointing to it as he spoke.
"Poor fellow!" sighed Lulu. "I can't help feeling sorry for him, though he was an enemy to my country."
"No, Miss, it was a pity, and does make one feel sorry; for I suppose he really had no choice but to obey the orders of his king," returned the lad. "Well, the ball passed on, broke through the plank partition of the hall, and buried itself in the ground outside. They say eleven cannon-balls passed through the house in just a little while. For my part, I'd rather have been in a battle than keeping quiet here to be shot at."
"I certainly would," said the Captain.
"I, too," said Max. "I should say there was very little fun in standing such a fire with no chance to return it."
"Yes; and our people would never have fired on them if they had known they were women, children, and wounded men; but you see they – the Americans – saw people gathering here, and thought the British were making the place their headquarters. So they trained their artillery on it, 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 as their young guide led the way.
"Quite, sir," he answered; then, as they entered the cellar, "There have been some changes in the hundred years and more that have passed since that terrible time," he said. "You see there is but one partition wall now; there were two then, but one has been torn down, and the floor cemented. Otherwise the cellars are just as they were at the time of the fight; only a good deal cleaner, I suspect," he added, with a smile, "for packed as they were with women, children, and wounded officers 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, whatever they may have been on that October day of 1777," the Captain said, glancing admiringly at the rows of shining milk-pans showing a tempting display of thick yellow cream, and the great fruit-bins standing ready for 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 of satisfaction; "but I've sometimes pictured it to myself as it must have looked then, – crowded, you know, with frightened women and children, and wounded officers being constantly brought in for nursing, in agonies of pain, groaning, and perhaps screaming, begging for water, which could be got only from the river, a soldier's wife bringing a small quantity at a time."
"Yes, a woman could do that, of course," said Lulu; "for our soldiers would never fire on a woman, – certainly not for doing such a thing as that."
"No, of course not," exclaimed Max, in a scornful tone. "American men fire 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 the grounds. "Yonder," he said, pointing with his finger, "away to the southwest, Burgoyne's troops were stationed; the German auxiliaries, too, were resting from their fight, near Bemis Heights. Away to the west there, Morgan's famous riflemen were taking up their position along Burgoyne's front and flank, while Colonel Fellows was over yonder," turning to the east and again pointing with his finger, "bringing his batteries to bear upon the British. Just as the Baroness Riedesel in her calash with her three little girls stopped before the house, some American sharpshooters across the river levelled their muskets, and she had barely time to push her children to the bottom of the wagon and throw herself down beside them, before the bullets came whistling overhead. Neither she nor the little folks were hurt, but a soldier belonging to their party was badly wounded. The Baroness and her children spent the night there in the cellar. So did other ladies from the British army who followed her to this retreat that afternoon. They were in one of its three divisions, the wounded officers in another, and the common soldiers occupied the third."
"It must have been a dreadful night to the poor Baroness and those little 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 taken together, must have made an awful night for them all. I wonder, for my part, that the women and children weren't left at home in their own countries."
"That's where they ought to have been, I think," said Lulu. "Was it that night Surgeon Jones was killed?"
"No, Miss, the next day, when the Americans began firing again harder than ever."
"Where were they firing from then?" Lulu asked.
"The other side of the river, Miss; probably from some rising ground a little north of Batten Kil."
"Well, sir, what more have you to show us?" asked the Captain, pleasantly.
"A plank cut and
