“Yes, in spite of the shameful retreat of Lee and the unaccountable detention of Morgan and his brave riflemen, who were within sound of the fearful tumult of the battle and eager to take part in it, Morgan striding to and fro in an agony of suspense, and desire to participate in the struggle, yet unaccountably detained where he was.”

“And that was some of that traitor Lee’s doings, I suspect,” exclaimed Lulu hotly.  “Wasn’t it, papa?”

“My dear child, I do not know,” returned the captain, “but it seems altogether probable that if Morgan could have fallen, with his fresh troops, upon the weary ones of Sir Henry Clinton, toward the close of the day, the result might have been such a surrender as Burgoyne was forced to make at Saratoga.

“But as it was, while Washington and his weary troops slept that night, the general looking forward to certain victory in the morning, when he could again attack his country’s foes with his own troops strengthened and refreshed by sleep, Sir Henry and his army stole silently away and hurried toward Sandy Hook.”

“Did Washington chase him?” asked Walter.

“No,” said the captain; “when he considered the start the British had, the weariness of his own troops, the excessive heat of the weather, and the deep sandy country, with but little water to be had, he thought it wiser not to make the attempt.”

“Papa, was it near here that the British shot Mrs. Caldwell?” asked Lulu.

“No; that occurred in a place called Connecticut Farms, about four miles northwest of Elizabethtown, to which they—­the Caldwells—­had removed for greater safety.

“It was in June, 1780.  The British under Clinton and Knyphausen crossed over to Elizabethtown and moved on toward Springfield.  The Americans, under General Greene, were posted upon the Short Hills, a series of high ridges near Springfield, and came down to the plain to oppose the invasion of the British.  I will not go into the details of the battle, but merely say that the British were finally repulsed, Greene being so advantageously posted by that time that he was anxious for an engagement, but Knyphausen, perceiving his own disadvantage, retreated, setting fire to the village of Connecticut Farms (now called Union) on his way.

“The people of the town fled when they perceived the approach of the British, but Mrs. Caldwell remained, and with her children and maid retired to a private apartment and engaged in prayer.

“Presently her maid, glancing from a window, exclaimed that a red-coated soldier had jumped over the fence and was coming toward the window.

“At that Mrs. Caldwell rose from the bed where she had been sitting, and at that moment the soldier raised his musket and deliberately fired at her through the window, sending two balls through her body, killing her instantly, so that she fell dead among her poor frightened children.

“It was with some difficulty that her body was saved from the fire which was consuming the town.  It was dragged out into the street, and lay exposed there for some time—­several hours—­till some of her friends got leave to remove it to a house on the other side of the street.