WITHIN THE ENEMY'S LINES
A long cavalry cape concealing the British uniform I wore, my horse and
myself were ferried across the Schuylkill, just below the mouth of Valley
Creek, and there, amid the silence and darkness of the eastern shore, I
parted with Hamilton, who had accompanied me thus far, whispering final
words of instruction. My horse was a fresh one, chosen from the stables
of the Life Guard, but the trappings were of the British service. Within
five minutes I was out of sight of the picket fire on the river bank,
riding steadily southeast through the night, every nerve alert. An hour's
riding found me well beyond our outermost pickets, yet, in fear that I
might encounter some body of irregulars, scouting the neutral ground, I
held on to my passport until I perceived the first flush of dawn in the
east. Then, convinced of close proximity to the British guard-lines, I
tore the paper into fragments. Avoiding all roads, and seeking every bit
of concealment possible, it was already sunrise before I plunged suddenly
into a Hessian picket-post, the distant smoke of the Philadelphia
chimneys darkening the sky ahead. Unable to speak German, my uniform won
sufficient courtesy, so that I was escorted back under guard to an
outpost of the Queen's Rangers, where I explained my presence and rank to
a red-faced Captain in Tory green, so insolent in manner as to be
insulting, until I exhibited the sealed despatch, and demanded to be
escorted at once to Sir William Howe. This brought results, and I entered
the city under escort of a dozen horsemen, their green coats faced with
dingy white, cocked hats flapping as they rode.
It was thus we came to Callowhill, and the encampment of British
grenadiers, an officer of the 55th Regiment volunteering to guide me to
Howe's quarters in High Street. He was a genial fellow, and pointed out
various places of interest, as we rode more slowly through the streets
close along the river-side, questioning me often upon affairs in New
York, to which I returned such vague answers as pleased me, paying small
heed to the truth. I had never known Philadelphia well, but now it was so
strange as to be peculiarly interesting, many of the houses deserted,
with doors and windows boarded; several of the churches made over into
barracks, or riding-schools; the market closed; the State House filled
with lounging officers; and the streets thronged, even at this early
hour, by a varied uniformed soldiery, speaking Cockney English, the
jargon of the counties, Scottish Gaelic, or guttural German, as they
elbowed their passage, the many scarlet jackets interspersed with the
blue of artillery and cavalry, the Hessian red and yellow, the green of
the rifle-corps, or the kilts of the Highlanders. Lancers and Huzzars,
Grenadiers, Light Dragoons and Queen's Rangers mixed, and commingled,
apparently enjoying holiday. There was scarcely a woman to be seen; the
few who did appear being of the lower sort. All along the river were
redoubts, well garrisoned, with black gun muzzles pointing out across the
water. Many houses had been razed, and their _débris_, together with the
fire ruin of the past winter, gave to everything a look of desolation.
Much artillery was parked in the State House yard, and several vessels of
war were lying at anchor in the stream, while the entire shore line was
filled with barges, decorated as for a _fête_, a large force of men
laboring about them. My companion, observing my interest attracted in
that direction, reined up his horse to explain.
"Those are the galleys being made ready for the Mischianza, Fortesque,"
he said, waving his hand. "You came to us at a lucky hour."
"The Mischianza?" I asked, puzzled by the strange term. "Some festival,
you mean?--some gala day?"
"'Tis an Italian word, they tell me, signifying medley. The officers give
it in farewell to Sir William, who will sail to-morrow. A pretty penny it
costs. See, there is Major O'Hara now, one of the managers; there are
three others, Sir John Wrottlesly, Major Gardiner, and the chief
engineer, Montresor. Do you know them? No? Oh, I had forgotten you have
only just arrived. You will know them 'ere long, however, for they are
the leaders in such affairs. That is Captain André there with O'Hara." He
waved his hand, and the younger officer lifted his cocked hat in
acknowledgment. "Let us spur over there, Lieutenant, until I get you a
ticket of invitation."
I followed, careless of the loss of time so I could both see and hear.
"André, this is Lieutenant Fortesque just in from New York with
despatches for Howe. I have promised him a ticket for to-night."
The young officer laughingly extended a hand.
"The more the merrier, Craig. With the 42nd I see, sir; knew your Colonel
well. You'll find America isn't so bad, after you get used to it. We've
had a gay time here, eh, O'Hara? The best of liquor, and the prettiest of
girls, and now we'll show the town something it won't forget in a hurry."
He held out a card to me. "Rather ornate, considering the printers in
these colonies; designed it myself."
It was certainly a handsome souvenir, perhaps six inches by four in size,
engraved as in a shield, yielding a view of the sea, with the setting
sun, and on a wreath the words, "_Lucco discendens, ancto splendore
resurgam_," while at the top was the General's crest, bearing the words,
"_Vive Vale_." I have it yet, but as I looked at it then, sitting my
horse on the river bank, and listening to the careless laughter of those
about me, I could think only of that other half-starved army in whose
camp I had been the evening before, and of those scenes of suffering
witnessed during the past winter at Valley Forge--the shoeless feet, the
shivering forms, the soldiers dying from cold and hunger, the snow
drifting over us as we slept. What a contrast between this foolish boy's
play, and the stern man's work yonder. Somehow the memory stiffened me to
the playing of my own part, helping me to crush back bitter words that I
might exhibit the same spirit of recklessness shown by those about me.
"A fine conceit, indeed," I confessed, "and if the pageant be equal to
its promise 'twill be well worth the seeing. What is the purpose,
gentlemen?"
"To give Sir William fit farewell," returned André, pleased at my
unstinted praise. "And now that the Lord has sent us a fine day, I can
promise a festival worthy the herald. But, Fortesque, if you would have
audience with Howe, I advise you to get on, for he will have few spare
moments between now and day-dawn to-morrow."
We parted with much bowing, Craig and I guiding our horses through the
crowded streets, being kept too busy avoiding accidents to exchange
conversation. Howe's headquarters on High Street were not pretentious,
and, except for a single sentinel posted at the door, were unguarded. I
was admitted without delay, being ushered into a large room containing
merely tables and chairs, the latter littered with papers. An aide took
my name, and within a very few moments Sir William himself entered
through a rear door, attired in field uniform. He was of imposing figure,
fully six feet in height, well proportioned, and with a thoughtful,
kindly face. He greeted me with much affability, glancing hastily over
the papers handed him, and then into my face.
"These do not greatly change my former plans," he said, "but I am glad to
know I can retain my present staff. There was no special news in New
York, Lieutenant?"
"None of particular importance, I believe, sir. We landed only a short
time ago."
"Yes. I understand. You were fortunate to get through here so easily--the
Jerseys are a hotbed of rebellion. Do you return with me by water?"
"I believe that was left to my own discretion. I should be glad of a day
or two in Philadelphia."
"Easily arranged. While I shall leave the city to-morrow so as to give
Clinton a fair field, I shall remain on Lord Howe's flag-ship for some
little time previous to final departure for New York. You had better mess
here with my staff. Mabry," turning to the aide, "see that Lieutenant
Fortesque has breakfast, and procure him a pass good indefinitely within
our lines. You will pardon my withdrawal, as the officers of the garrison
promise me an exceedingly busy day. We will meet again, no doubt."
He clasped my hand warmly, and withdrew, leaving me alone with the aide,
half-ashamed, I confess, of having been compelled to deceive. Yet the
very ease of it all stimulated endeavor, and I conversed lightly with
Mabry over the mess table, and, when the orderly returned with the
necessary pass, I was keen to start upon my round of inspection, utterly
forgetful of having been up, and in saddle, all night. Mabry could not
leave his duties to accompany me, but courteously furnished a fresh
horse, and assigned a private of dragoons to guide me about the city. By
ten o'clock we were off, my only fear being the possible meeting with
some acquaintance.
In this, however, I was happily disappointed, as there were few civilians
on the streets, the throngs of soldiers, off duty for a holiday, with all
discipline relaxed, being boisterous, and considerably under the
influence of liquor. Quarrels between them were frequent, the British
regulars and Loyalists seldom meeting without exchange of words and
blows. The uniform worn, together with my dragoon guard, saved me from
trouble, and I found the fellow sufficiently intelligent to be of value.
I dare not make notes, and yet recall clearly even now the stations of
the troops, together with a clear mental outline of the main defences of
the city. I made no attempt to pass beyond the limits, but, from
statements of the dragoon, and various officers with whom I conversed,
mapped in my mind the entire scheme of defence. Briefly stated, the line
of intrenchments from the Delaware to the Schuylkill extended from the
mouth of Conoquonaque Creek, just above Willow Street, to the Upper
Ferry, nearly on a line with Callowhill Street. These consisted of ten
redoubts, connected with strong palisades, all redoubts well garrisoned
by seasoned troops, the Queen's Rangers being at the extreme right.
Within the city proper were the reserves, so scattered in various
encampments as to be easily mobilized, and yet kept separated. To the
north were the Hessians, and next to these came three regiments of
British Grenadiers, with a body of Fusileers. Eight regiments of the line
occupied the slight eminence known as Bush's Hill, while close to the
Ferry was another encampment of Hessians. The Yagers, horse and foot,
were upon another hill near the river, and below them a large body of
infantry of the line. The Light Dragoons and three infantry regiments
were near a small pond. At the Middle Ferry was the 71st Regiment, and a
body of Yagers were at the Point House, opposite Gloucester. Many of
these locations were then outside the city, which extended at that time
from Christian Street on the south, to Callowhill on the north, being
widest between Arch and Walnut, where it expanded from Delaware to Ninth.
However, I visited a number of these encampments, finding in each merely
a small guard retained for the day, the majority of the troops being off
on liberty. Soon after noon these began to throng the water front, eager
to view the coming spectacle. I was, myself, in the Yager's camp,
finishing a late lunch, with a few officers, when the announcement came
that the water procession had started.