ly caught at the idea when the commander in chief told
him what he wanted. And so it came to pass that Washington did the
planning, and Wayne did the fighting.

[Illustration: General Anthony Wayne]

Washington's plans were made with the greatest care. The dogs for
three miles about the fort were killed the day before the intended
attack, lest some indiscreet bark might alarm the garrison. The
commander in chief himself rode down and spent the whole day looking
over the situation. Trusty men, who knew every inch of the region,
guarded every road and every trail by which spies and deserters could
pass.

"Ten minutes' notice to the enemy blasts all your hopes," wrote
Washington to Wayne.

The orders were "to take and keep all stragglers."

"Took the widow Calhoun and another widow going to the enemy with
chickens and greens," reported Captain McLane. "Drove off twenty head
of horned cattle from their pasture."

The hour of attack was to be midnight. Washington hoped for a dark
night and even a rainy one. Not a gun was to be loaded except by two
companies who were to {82} make the false attack. The bayonet alone
was to be used, Wayne's favorite weapon. At Germantown, it was
Wayne's men who drove the Hessians at the point of the bayonet. And
at Monmouth, these men had met, with cold steel, the fierce bayonet
charge of the far-famed British grenadiers.

About thirteen hundred men of the famous light infantry were chosen
to make the attack. Both officers and men were veterans and the
flower of the Continental army.

On the forenoon of July 15, the companies were called in from the
various camps, and drawn up for inspection as a battalion,
"fresh-shaved and well-powdered," as Wayne had commanded.

At twelve o'clock the inspection was over, but the men, instead of
being sent to their quarters, were wheeled into the road, with the
head of the column facing southward. The march to Stony Point had
begun.

"If any soldier loads his musket, or fires from the ranks, or tries
to skulk in the face of danger, he is at once to be put to death by
the officer nearest him." One soldier did begin to load his gun,
saying that he did not know how to fight without firing. His captain
warned him once. The soldier would not stop. The officer then ran his
sword through him in an instant. The next day, however, the captain
came to Colonel Hull and said he was sorry that he had killed the
poor fellow. "You performed a painful service,"