"We are those whose trained battalions,
Trained to bleed, not to fly,
Make our agonies a triumph--
Conquer, while we die."
--"A Battle Song," Edwin Arnold.
"Well, if this be a foot-warmer I wonder what a foot-freezer would be
called," exclaimed Peggy in tones of disgust, slipping from her seat in
the coach to feel the covered iron at her mother's feet. "I don't
believe that the innkeeper at the last tavern where we baited our horses
filled it with live coals, as I told him to. He was none too civil."
"Belike 'twas because we paid our reckoning in Continental money,"
remarked Mrs. Owen. "Never mind the iron, Peggy. I shall do very well
without it; and if thou art not careful thou wilt drop that box which
thee has been so choice of through the journey."
Peggy laughed as she resumed her seat by her mother's side.
"Is thee curious anent that box, mother?" she questioned drawing a small
oblong box of ebony wood closer to her.
"I should be," observed the lady with a smile, "had I not heard Friend
Deering tell thee that 'twas a secret betwixt thee and him."
"I should think that being a secret would make thee wonder all the more
concerning it," remarked the girl. "It would me, mother."
"Is thee trying to awake my inquisitiveness, daughter?"
"I am to tell thee about it should thee ask," said Peggy suggestively.
"But in all these four days thou hast not once evinced the slightest
desire to know aught anent the matter. How can thee be so indifferent,
mother? I am eager to tell thee."
"So I judged," replied Mrs. Owen laughing outright. "Know then, Peggy,
that I am as desirous of hearing as thou art of telling. 'Tis something
for General Washington; is 't not?"
"Why, mother, thee knows already," cried Peggy.
"No, no, child; I am only guessing. 'Twould be like Friend Deering to
send something to the general. That is all I know of the matter."
"Well, then, 'tis five hundred English guineas," explained the girl,
enjoying the look of amazement on her mother's face.
"Peggy, no!" exclaimed the lady. "I thought belike 'twas money, but I
knew not that it was so much. How pleased the general will be. Hard
money is getting scarcer and scarcer, and the people murmur against the
currency of Congress."
"And shall I tell thee all that I am to say to Friend Washington?" asked
Peggy with an important air. "Mother, thee did not guess that while thee
was gathering supplies I too had business of like nature?"
"No, I did not know," replied Mrs. Owen. "Unravel the matter, I beg,
Peggy. 'Twill serve well to pass the time, and I am curious also
concerning the affair."
It was three weeks after the receipt of David Owen's letter, and
December was upon them ere mother and daughter had completed their
arrangements for the journey. Knowing the great need of supplies at the
encampment, Mrs. Owen determined not to go empty handed, and so made a
personal canvas among the citizens, who responded to her appeal for the
soldiers with their usual liberality. In consequence, when at length
everything was in readiness, it was quite a little caravan that left the
city headed for Middlebrook, New Jersey. First came the coach with Peggy
and her mother inside; then followed two farm wagons loaded with stores
of various kinds; behind these came Tom with Star, for Peggy was hoping
for rides with her father; the whole traveling under the escort of four
of the Pennsylvania Light Horse who had been in Philadelphia on
furloughs.
The roads were bad, the traveling rough and slow, the weather cold and
damp, but to Peggy, who had never before been away from Philadelphia and
its vicinity, the journey was full of interest and excitement. It was
now the afternoon of the fourth day since they had started, and both the
maiden and the lady were conscious of a growing feeling of excitement as
they neared the journey's end, so the matter of the box, about which the
matron had in truth been wondering, was a welcome diversion.
"At first," said Peggy pulling the fur robe closer about her and
nestling confidentially up to her mother, "he said 'twas so small an
amount that he wished me to say naught concerning the donor. But I
persuaded him to let me tell who gave it, saying to him that 'twas not
the amount that counted so much as the spirit in which 'twas given."
Mrs. Owen nodded approval, and the girl continued:
"And so I am to say that since Jacob Deering is esteemed too old to take
up arms for his country 'tis the only thing he can do to show his
sympathy with the cause."
"Would that there were more like him," ejaculated the lady. "The cause
would soon languish were it not for just such support. Is thee tired,
Peggy?"
"Not very, mother. Still, I shall be glad when we reach the camp."
At length, just as the sun was sinking behind the Watchung Mountains,
the cumbersome coach swung round a bend in the road, and the encampment
came into view. They had left Philadelphia by the old York road,
crossing the Delaware at Coryell's Ferry, and swinging across Hunterdon
County into Somerset, where the army was stationed, so that their first
sight of the Continental cantonment glimpsed nearly all of the seven
brigades stationed there.
All along the Raritan River, and on the heights of Middlebrook the
fields were dotted with tents and parks of artillery. Suddenly, as they
drew nearer, the highways between the different posts seemed alive with
soldiers going and coming. There was the crunch on the frozen ground of
many feet. The country quiet was broken by the rattle of arms, the snort
of horses, and the stir and bustle of camp. There was something
inspiriting in the spectacle. Fatigue was forgotten, and Peggy
straightened up with a little cry of delight.
"Look at the tents, mother," she cried. "Didst ever see so many before?"
"We must be at Middlebrook," exclaimed Mrs. Owen, almost as excited as
Peggy. "Just see how the prospect of rest hath reanimated the driver and
his horses."
The maiden laughed as the driver sat up, cracked his whip and urged his
horses to greater dispatch. The tired animals responded nobly, but their
spurt of speed was checked suddenly by a peremptory command from the
patrol. The examination over, they were allowed to proceed, but were
again halted when they had gone but a short distance.
"What can it be now?" wondered Peggy peering out of the coach. Catching
sight of the tall figure that came alongside, she called gaily:
"The countersign, father! The countersign!"
"'Tis welcome! Thrice welcome!" answered David Owen flinging wide the
door of the vehicle and taking her into a tender embrace. "Art tired,
Peggy?"
"No, father; but I fear that mother is. She hath been cold too."
"But I am so no longer," spoke Mrs. Owen cheerily. "Thee is well,
David?"
"Never better, my wife. I have forgot that I was ever ill. But come! let
us proceed to our quarters."
"And who are in our mess?" asked Peggy as, after a word to the driver,
her father stepped into the coach.
"Thou hast become militaryish already, I see," he said smiling. "I have
found accommodations for us at a farmhouse very near Bound Brook. 'Tis
just beyond General Greene's brigade, and close enough to the
Pennsylvania line not to interfere with active duty. There will be but
five in our mess, as thee calls it, Peggy--Friend Decker and wife, thy
mother, thyself and I. 'Tis Friend Decker's house. Dutch they are, but
patriots staunch and true. See, my wife! We are coming to General
Washington's headquarters. 'Tis a much better dwelling than he occupied
last year at Valley Forge. To thy right, Peggy. 'Tis the farmhouse in
the midst of the orchard."
"Friend Deering hath sent some gold to the general by Peggy," observed
Mrs. Owen bending forward that she might the better see the building.
"And there are supplies behind in the wagons for the soldiers. Two loads
there are."
"Now that is good news indeed," exclaimed Mr. Owen. "The chief should
know of it immediately. We will stop there now. 'Twill ensure the
general a better night's rest to receive such tidings. He hath been
greatly worried lately over the apathy of the people toward the war."
"Then if 'twill be of any comfort to him to learn of this small aid let
us go to him at once, David," said his wife.
The last bit of sunlight disappeared behind the hills as they turned
from the road into the meadow in the centre of which stood the large
two-story wooden dwelling where General Washington had established his
quarters for the winter. But lately finished, it was considered a model
of elegance for that section of the country, and was in truth most roomy
and comfortable.
As the light faded, from the meadows and the hills sounded the drums,
fifes and bugles in the retreat, or sunset drum beat. Scarcely had the
music died away than all along the top of the mountain range the
watch-fires of the sentinels blazed out suddenly.
"Oh!" gasped Peggy, her eyes glowing, "if I live long 'mid such
surroundings methinks I shall feel equal to fighting the whole British
army."
"'Tis so with all new recruits, Peggy," laughed her father. "Thee will
not be so affected when the novelty wears off. And here is the dwelling.
'Twill not take us long to present our news to the general, and then for
quarters."
A few rods to the east of the mansion were about fifty tents erected for
the use of the life-guard. Fires flamed before every tent, around which
men were gathered, laughing, talking or singing. Peggy looked about with
much curiosity, but her father hastened at once to the door of the
dwelling, where stood an orderly.
"Will thee tell His Excellency that David Owen is without, and wishes to
see him?" he asked. "'Tis important."
The orderly was absent but a moment. "His Excellency will see you, Mr.
Owen," he said. "You are to go right in."
[Illustration: "MY WIFE AND DAUGHTER, YOUR EXCELLENCY"]
Peggy's heart began to flutter painfully as she found herself once more
in the presence of General Washington, and her mind went back
involuntarily to the last time when she had taken that long ride to
Valley Forge to beg for her father's exchange. So perturbed was she that
she did not notice that the room was large, low ceiled, and cozily
warmed by a huge fire of logs which glowed in the great fireplace.
Instead of being interested in the furnishings of the apartment, as she
would have been at another time, she clung close to her father overcome
by the remembrance of how very near they had been to losing him, and
could not raise her eyes when he said:
"I beg to present my wife and daughter, Your Excellency. They tell me
that they have brought some money and supplies, and it seemed best to
let thee know of it at once."
"You have acted with discretion, Mr. Owen," said General Washington
rising from the table before which he had been sitting. "Madam Owen, I
have long known of you through your good works, but have hitherto not
had the pleasure of meeting with you personally. You would be welcome at
any time, but doubly so since you bring us aid."
"Thy thanks are not due me, but to the citizens of Philadelphia, sir,"
said Mrs. Owen with her finest curtsey. "There are two wagon loads of
stores of various kinds, among which are several casks of cider vinegar.
We heard that thee was in need of that article."
"We are indeed," replied General Washington. "The country hereabouts
hath been scoured for it until the farmers tell us that there is no
more. 'Tis sorely needed for our fever-stricken men. 'Tis very timely,
Mistress Owen."
"And for thyself, sir," continued the lady, "a few of us learned of thy
fondness for eggs, and there are several dozens of those. But, sir, on
pain of displeasure from those who sent them, thou art not to divide
them with any. They are for thine own table."
"I will incur no displeasure on that account, I assure you," said the
general laughing. "I fear that you have been in communication with the
housekeeper, who hath been much concerned because of the scarcity of
eggs. I thank you, Mrs. Owen, for having so favored me, and also for the
other stores. They are much needed. Mr. Owen, will you see to 't that
the quartermaster heeds your wife's injunction about those eggs?"
David Owen bowed, and his wife went on:
"And Peggy hath also something for thee in that box, Your Excellency.
She hath made so much of a mystery of it that I knew not the nature of
its contents until this afternoon."
General Washington had not been unaware of Peggy's agitation. Perhaps he
too was thinking of the time when she had been so severely tried, for
his voice was very gentle as he took the girl's hand and said:
"Miss Peggy and I are old friends. She promised me once to tell me what
became of that wonderful dog of hers. I shall claim the fulfilment of
that promise, my child, since we shall see much of each other this
winter."
The ready smile came to Peggy's lips, chasing away the tears that had
threatened to flow.
"Does thee remember Pilot?" she cried. "Oh, Friend Washington, I did not
think a man so concerned with affairs of state would remember a dog."
"He wished me well, and I always remember my friends and well wishers,"
he said, pleased that she had recovered her composure.
"And 'tis one of them who hath sent thee this box of five hundred
English guineas," she said quickly, pointing to the box. "'Tis from Mr.
Jacob Deering, sir. He said to tell thee that since he was esteemed too
old to take up arms 'twas the only way left him to serve the cause. He
regretted the smallness of the amount, but he said that English money
was hard to come by."
"It is indeed hard to come by," replied the general, receiving the box
with gratification. "This is most welcome, Miss Peggy, because just at
this time our own money is depreciating rapidly owing to the fact that
the British are counterfeiting it by the wagon load, and distributing it
among the people. I trust that I may soon have an opportunity to thank
Mr. Deering in person. I shall be in Philadelphia next week, and shall
do myself the honor of calling upon him. In the meantime, Miss Peggy,
receive my thanks for this timely relief. Will you not----"
At this moment the door opened to admit an orderly. General Washington
turned to him. "What is it, sir?" he said. "Did you not know that I was
occupied?"
"Pardon me, sir," replied the orderly, saluting. "One of the videttes
hath brought in a young girl who declares she hath a permit to pass the
lines. He knows not what to do with her. She is English, sir, and comes
from New York."
"Bring her in," commanded the chief. "Nay," as the Owens made a movement
to depart, "stay a little, I beg of you. This matter will take but a
moment."
As he finished speaking the door opened once more to admit the form of a
young girl. She could not have been more than Peggy's age, but she
carried herself with so much dignity that she appeared older. Her eyes
were of darkest gray, shaded by intense black lashes, and starry in
their radiance. At present they held a look of scorn, and her well set
head was tilted in disdain. A wealth of chestnut hair but slightly
powdered clustered about her face in ringlets, and her complexion was of
such exquisite fairness as to be dazzling. She was clad in a velvet
riding frock of green, her beaver hat, from which depended a long plume,
matching the gown in color. Her whole manner and appearance were stamped
by a general air of distinction.
She advanced at once into the room, apparently unconscious of the effect
that her beauty was producing.
"By what right, sir," she cried in a clear musical voice, "do your men
stop me in my journey? I have a pass."
"Let me see it, madam," said General Washington quietly. He glanced at
the paper she gave him, and remarked, "This is from General Maxwell at
Elizabethtown. He refers the matter to me for consideration. May I ask
why so young a female wishes to pass through our lines?"
"I wish to join relatives in Philadelphia," she answered. "I travel
alone because I was told that Americans did not make war on women and
girls. It seems that I was mistaken."
"You are an English girl," said the general, ignoring her last remark.
"Why do you not stay with your people in New York?"
"Because, sir, I was left in England with my brother while my father
came over with General Gage to fight the rebels. My brother ran away, so
I came to join father. He had gone to the Southern colonies, and when he
learned that I was here, he wrote me to go to my relatives. I left New
York under a flag of truce, and came to Elizabethtown. There I went at
once to the general in charge. Sir, I have complied with every
requirement necessary to pass the lines, and I ask that I be permitted
to resume my journey."
"And what is the name of these relatives?" asked Washington
imperturbably.
"Owen, sir. David Owen is my father's cousin."
"Why!" exclaimed Peggy, who had been an amazed listener to the
conversation. "Thee must be my Cousin Harriet!"