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Page 35
CHAPTER XI
HEROIC ACT OF BARBARA WEBB SAVES AMERICAN ARMY AT THE BATTLE OF TRENTON
Coming now to the campaign in New Jersey, let me recall that on the
evening of June 18, American scouting aeroplanes, under Squadron
Commander Harry Payne Whitney, reported that a strong force of Germans,
cavalry, infantry, and artillery, had occupied the heights above
Bordentown, New Jersey, and were actively proceeding to build pontoons
across the Delaware. It seemed clear that von Hindenburg was preparing to
cross the river at the very point where Washington made his historic
crossing in 1776; and General Wood proceeded to attack the enemy's
position with his artillery, being assisted by four light-draught
gunboats from the Philadelphia navy-yard, which lay in the deepened
channel at the head of tide-water and dropped shells inside the enemy's
lines. The Germans replied vigorously, and a smart engagement at long
range ensued, lasting until darkness fell. We fully expected that the
next day would see a fierce battle fought here for the command of the
river. No one dreamed that this was a trap set by von Hindenburg.
As a matter of fact, the crossing movement from above Bordentown was a
feint in which not more than 8,000 Germans were engaged, their main army
being gathered twenty miles to the north, near Lambertville, for the real
crossing. And only the prompt heroic action of three young Americans, two
boys and a girl, saved our forces from immediate disaster.
The heroine of this adventure was Barbara Webb, a beautiful girl of
sixteen, who, with her brother Dominick and their widowed mother, lived
in a lonely farm-house on Goat Hill, back of Lambertville. They had a boy
friend, Marshall Frissell, in Brownsburg, Pennsylvania, on the other side
of the river, and Marshall and Dominick had learned to wigwag signals, in
boy-scout fashion, back and forth across the Delaware.
It seems that, on this memorable night, the brother and sister discovered
a great force of Germans building pontoons about a mile below the wrecked
Lambertville bridge. Whereupon Dominick Webb, knowing that all telegraph
and telephone wires were cut, leaped upon a horse and set out to carry
the news to General Wood. But he was shot through the thigh by a Prussian
sentry, and, hours later, fainting from loss of blood, he returned to the
farm-house and told his sister that he had failed in his effort.
Then Barbara, as day was breaking, climbed to the crest of Goat Hill, and
began to signal desperately toward Brownsburg, in the hope that Marshall
Frissell might see and understand. For an hour she waved, but all in
vain. Marshall was asleep. Still she waved; and finally, by a miracle of
faith, the boy was roused from his slumbers, drawn to his window as the
sun arose, and, looking out, saw Barbara's familiar flag wigwagging
frantically on the heights of Lambertville three miles away. Then he
answered, and Barbara cried out in her joy.
Just then a German rifle spoke from the riverbank below, a thousand yards
away, where the enemy were watching, and a bullet pierced the Stars and
Stripes as the flag fluttered over that slim girlish figure silhouetted
against the glory of the eastern sky. Then another bullet came, and
another. The enemy had seen Barbara's manoeuvre. She was betraying an
important military secret, and she must die.
Wait! With a hostile army below her, not a mile distant, this fearless
American girl went on wigwagging her message--letter by letter, slowly,
painstakingly, for she was imperfect in the code. As she swept the flag
from side to side, signalling, a rain of bullets sang past her. Some cut
her dress and some snipped her flowing hair; and finally one shattered
the flag-staff in her hands. Whereupon, like Barbara Frietchie of old,
this fine young Barbara caught up the banner she loved, and went on
waving the news that might save her country, while a hundred German
soldiers fired at her.
And presently a wonderful thing happened. The power of her devotion
touched the hearts of these rough men,--for they were brave
themselves,--and, lowering their guns, with one accord, they cheered this
little grey-eyed, dimpled farmer's girl with her hair blowing in the
breeze, until the Jersey hills rang.
And now the lad in Brownsburg rose to the situation. There were Germans
on the opposite bank, a great host of them, making ready to cross the
Delaware. General Wood must know this at once--he must come at once. They
say that freckle-faced Marshall Frissell, fifteen years old, on a mad
motorcycle, covered the twenty miles to Ft. Hill, Pa., where General Wood
had his headquarters, in fifteen minutes, and that by seven o'clock troop
trains and artillery trains were moving toward the north, winding along
the Delaware like enormous snakes, as Leonard Wood, answering the
children's call, hastened to the rescue.
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