"I know not, sir. She left the house an hour ago."
With something suspiciously like an oath, the major turned
away and, hurrying along the street, descended that which
sloped down the bluff to the river. Here stood an officer,
while in the water lay a flatboat which already held, besides
two rowers, a horse and a pair of fat saddle-bags. Without a
word Phil jumped in and the rowers struck their oars into the
water.
At the same time that Major Hennion's party had been
despatched to gain news of the fleet, other troops of Tarleton's
and Simcoe's cavalry had been thrown out on scouting parties
across the peninsula to the James, and the following day they
brought word that the French were busily engaged in landing
troops from their ships at Jamestown, with the obvious intention
of effecting a junction with Lafayette's brigades, which were
at Williamsburg. A council of war was held that evening to
debate whether the British force should not march out and
attack them; but it was recognised that even if they completely
crushed the French and Americans, they had themselves made
escape southward impossible by the care with which they had
destroyed the bridges and ferries in their march into Virginia,
while if they fled northward, they would certainly have to
fight Washington's army long before they could reach New
York. It was therefore unanimously voted that the least hazardous
course was to remain passive in their present position.
Five days after this decision, a deserter from Lafayette's
camp came into the British lines, bringing with him the news
that it was openly talked in Williamsburg that Washington
and Rochambeau, with their armies, were coming to join the
troops already in Virginia. Nor were the British long able to
continue their doubting of his assertions, for a Tory brought in
the same tale, and with it a copy of the "Baltimore Journal,"
which printed the positive statement that the Northern army
was on the march southward and was already arrived at Wilmington.
A second council of war was therefore summoned
to debate once again their difficulties; but ere the general and
field officers had met, a schooner, eluding the French vessels
which blockaded the mouth of the river, arrived from New
York, bringing a despatch from Sir Henry Clinton, in which
he assured the encircled general that the British fleet would
quickly sail to relieve him, and that he himself, with four
thousand men, would follow close upon its heels. The order
for the council was therefore recalled; and Cornwallis turned
the whole energies of the force under his command to
strengthening his lines and in other ways making ready to
resist the gathering storm.
LXI
IN THE TOILS
On the morning of the 6th of October, twelve thousand
American and French soldiers lay encamped
in the form of a broad semi-circle almost a mile
from the British earthworks about Yorktown. Still
nearer, in a deep ravine, above which were some outworks
that had been abandoned by the British on the approach of
the allies, were the outposts; and these, lacking tents, had
hutted themselves with boughs. Intermittently came the roar
of a cannon from the British lines, and those in the hollow
could occasionally see and hear a shell as it screeched past
them overhead; but they gave not one-tenth the heed to
it that they gave to the breakfast they were despatching.
Indeed, their sole grumblings were at the meagreness of the
ration which had been dealt out to them the night before ere
they had been marched forward into their present position;
and as a field officer, coming from the American camp,
descended into the ravine, these found open expression.
"'T is mighty fine fer the ginral ter say in the ginral orders
that he wants us if attacked ter rely on the bagonet," spoke
up one of the murmurers loud enough to make it evident that
he intended the officer to overhear him; "but no troops kin
fight on a shred o' salt pork and a mouthful of collards."
The officer halted, and speaking more to all those within
hearing than to the man, said: "You got as good as any of
the Continental regiments, boys, and better than some."
"That may be, kun'l," answered the complainant, "but
how about the dandies?"
"Yes," assented the officer. "We sent the French regiments
all the flour and fresh meat the commissaries could lay
hands on, I grant you. Is there one of you who would have
kept it from them for his own benefit?"
"P'raps not," acknowledged another, "but that don't make
it any the less unfairsome."
"Remember they come to help us, and are really our
guests. Nor are they accustomed to the privation we know
too well. General Washington has surety that you can fight
on an empty stomach, for you've done it many a time, but he
is not so certain of the French."
The remark was greeted with a general laugh, which seemed
to dissipate the grievance.
"Lord!" exclaimed a corporal; "them fine birds do need
careful tending."
"'T ain't ter be wondered at thet the Frenchies is so keerful
ter bring their tents with 'em," remarked a third. "Whatever
would happen ter one o' them Soissonnais fellers, with his
rose-coloured facings an' his white an' rose feathers, if he
had ter sleep in a bowery along o' us? Some on 'em looks so
pretty, thet it don't seem right ter even trust 'em out in a heavy
dew." As he ended, the speaker looked down at his own
linen overalls. "T ain't no shakes they laughs a bit at us an
won't believe we are really snogers."
"'T is for us to make them laugh the other way before
we've done Cornwallis's business," remarked the officer.
"But make up your minds to one thing, boys, if their caps
are full of feathers and their uniforms more fit for a ball-room
than for service, these same fine-plumaged birds can fight; and
there must be no lagging if we are to prove ourselves their
betters, or even their equals."
"We'll show 'em what the Jarsey game-cocks kin do, an
don't you be afeared, kun'l."
As the assertion was made, a group of officers appeared on
the brow of the ravine, and the colonel turned and went forward
to meet them as they descended.
"How far in advance are your pickets, Colonel Brereton?"
one of them asked.
"About three hundred paces, your Excellency."
"And is the ground open?" demanded a second of the
party, with a markedly French accent.
"There is some timber cover, General du Portail, but 't is
chiefly open and rolling."
"We wish, sir, to advance as far as can be safely effected,"
said Washington, "and shall rely on you for guidance."
"This way, sir," answered Brereton; and the whole party
ascended out of the hollow through a side ravine which
brought them into a clump of poplars occupied by a party of
skirmishers, and which commanded a view of the British
earthworks. Halting at the edge of the timber, glasses were
levelled, and each man began a study of the enemy's lines.
Scarcely had they taken position when a puff of smoke rose
from one of the redoubts, and a shell came screeching towards
them, passing high enough to cut the branches of the trees over
their heads, and bringing them falling among the group. A
minute later a solid shot struck directly in their front, causing
all except the commander-in-chief to fall back out of sight
among the trees; but he, apparently unmoved by the danger,
calmly continued observing the enemies' works, and though
directly in their view, for some reason they did not fire again.
When Washington finally turned about and rejoined the
group, he said to Brereton: "Keep your men, sir, as they are
at present disposed, out of sight of the batteries, till evening;
then push your pickets forward as close to the town as they
can venture, with orders to fall back, unless attacked, only with
daylight. Last night the British put outside their lines a number
of blacks stricken with the small-pox; you will order your
skirmishers, therefore, to fire on them if they endeavour to repeat
the attempt, for even the dictates of humanity cannot allow us
to jeopardise the health of our army. Hold your regiment in
readiness to move out at nightfall in support of the pioneers
who will begin breaking ground this evening. Further and
specific orders will reach you later through the regular
channels."
It was already dark when Brereton, guiding General du
Portail and the engineers, once more came out upon the plain.
Following after them were a corps of sappers and miners, regiments
detailed as pioneers, carrying intrenching tools, regiments
armed as usual, to support them if attacked, and carts
loaded with bags of sand, empty barrels, fascines, and gabions.
Advancing cautiously, each man keeping touch with the one
in front of him, they went forward until within six hundred
yards of the British position. Without delay, by means of
lanterns which were screened from the foe by being carried in
half-barrels, the engineering tapes were laid down, and with
pick and shovel the fatigue party went to work, the eagerness
of the men being such that, despite of orders, the men from
the supporting regiments, leaving their muskets in charge of
their fellow-soldiers, would join in the toil. Nor did their
colonels reprove them for this; but, on the contrary, Brereton,
finding six men from one company engaged in rolling a large
rock out of the ditch and to the top of the rapidly waxing pile
of earth in its rear, said approvingly: "Well done, boys.
I've a wager with the Marquis de Chastellux that an American
battery fires the first shot, and I see you intend that I shall
win the bet."
"Arrah, 't is in yez pocket aready, colonel," cried one of
the sappers. "Sure, how kin a Frinchman expect to bate us
whin nary ground-hog nor baver, the aither av thim, is theer in
his counthry to tache him how to work wid earth an' timber?"
So well was the night spent that when morning dawned the
British found a long line of new earthworks stretched along
their front; and though instantly their guns began cannonading
them, the men were now protected and could dig on,
unheeding of the fire. Indeed, such was the enthusiasm that
when at six o'clock the order came for the regiments to fall
in, and it was found that they were to be replaced by fresh
troops, there was open grumbling. "'T is we did the work,"
complained a sergeant, "and now them fellows who slept all
night will steal the glory."
"Not a bit of it, boys," denied Brereton, as he was passing
down the lines preparatory to giving the order of march.
"There are still redoubts to be made and the guns are not up
yet. 'T will come our turn in the trenches again before they
are."
Their commander spoke wittingly, for two days it took to
get the trenches, and the redoubts thrown out in advance of
them, completed, and the heavy siege-guns were not moved
forward until after dark on the 8th. All night long and the
most of the following morning the men toiled, placing them in
position, paying no attention to the unceasing thunder of the
British guns, unless to stop momentarily and gaze with admiration
at the shells, each with its tail of fire, as they curved
through the air, or to crack a joke over some one which flew
especially near.
"Bark away," laughed one, as he affectionately patted a
twenty-four pounder just moved into its position, while shaking
his other fist toward Yorktown. "Scold while ye kin, for 't is
yer last chance. Like men, we've sat silent for nine days, an' let
ye, like women, do the talkin', but it 's to-morrow mornin' ye'll
find that, if we've kept still, it 's not been for want of a tongue."
It was noon when Brereton came hurrying into the battery
to find the men sleeping among the guns, where they had
dropped after their hard labour.
"How is it, Jack?" questioned the officer in command.
"General du Portail has reported the battery completed, and
he tells me we've beat the French by at least two hours."
A wild yell of joy broke from one of the apparently unconscious
men, bringing most of the sleepers scrambling to
their feet and grasping for their weapons. "I said they could
never dig in them clothes!" he cried.
"'T is however to be another 'Gentlemen of the guards,
fire first,'" went on Brereton. "General Washington, as a
compliment to the French, has decided that their guns shall
fire the first shot."
A growl came from the captain of the nearest cannon. "I
promised the old gal," he muttered discontentedly, his hand
on his thirty-two pounder, "that she should begin it, an'
she's sighted to knock over that twelve pounder that 's been
teasin' us, or may I never fire gun agin."
"She'll do it just as well on the second shot," said Colonel
Lamb, "and who cares which fires first, since we've beat them."
It was three o'clock when Washington and Rochambeau,
accompanied by their staffs, came out of the covert-way which
permitted entrance and egress to a French redoubt, from the
trenches in its rear, and infantry and gunners came to the
"present."
"Votre Excellence," said Colonel d'Aboville, saluting, "moi
cannoniers vous implorent de leur donner l'honneur immortel
en mettant feu au premier coup de cannon."
Washington, realizing that the speech was addressed to him,
turned to Rochambeau with a helpless and questioning look.
"Zay desire zat your Excellency does zem ze honneur to
fire ze first gun," explained the French general.
Washington removed his hat and bowed. "Try as we will,
count," he said, "we cannot equal your nation in politeness."
In silence he stepped forward to the gun the colonel indicated,
and the captain of the piece handed him the loggerhead with
a salute and then fell back respectfully.
Washington touched the red-hot iron to the port fire;
there was a puff of smoke, a deafening crash; and the great
gun gave a little jump, as if for joy. A thousand pairs of eyes
strained after the solid shot as it flew, then as it disappeared
over the British earthworks and was heard to go tearing its
way through some wall a great shout went up from one end of
the lines of the allies, to the other.
Instantly came the roar of the other five cannon, and two
ten-inch mortars echoed their thunder by sending ten-inch
shells curving high in the air. Ere they descended one of the
guns peeping from a British redoubt rose on end and disappeared;
raising another cheer. At last the siege was
begun.
As if to prove that the foe was nothing daunted, a solid
shot, just topping the redoubt, tore through the middle of the
group of generals, scattering sand and pebbles over them.
Colonel Cobb, who stood nearest Washington, turning impulsively,
said, "Sir, you are too much exposed here. Had
you not better step back a little?"
"If you are afraid, Colonel Cobb," quietly answered Washington,
"you have liberty to step back."
By dark three batteries were firing, and all through the
night the guns on both sides rained shot and shell at each
other. Two more batteries of thirty-two pounders opened fire
on the 10th, and by hot shot set fire that evening to the
"Charon" frigate, making a sight of marvellous grandeur, for
the ship became one mass of fire from the water's edge to
her spintle-heads, all her ports belching flame and each spar
and every rope ablaze at the same moment. The morning
of the 11th found fifty-two pieces of artillery mounted and
hurling a storm of projectiles into the British lines; and that
evening, a second parallel was opened, bringing the guns of
the besiegers less than three hundred yards from their earthworks,
and putting all parts of the town within range. After
this was completed, the defensive fire slackened, for every gun
with which the garrison sought to make reply was dismounted
the moment it was advanced into the embrasure, compelling
their withdrawal during daylight hours; and though each night
as soon as dark screened them from the accurate gunnery of
the Americans, they were restored and the firing renewed, it
was done with a feebleness that bespoke discouragement and
exhaustion. For two days shot and shell splintered and tore
through abattis and fraising, and levelled parapet and ditch,
almost unanswered.
To the right of the new parallel, and almost enfilading it
by their fire, were two detached redoubts of the British, well
in advance of their main lines. To end their destructive
cross fire, as well as to complete the investiture, it was
determined to carry them by assault; and as dark settled
down on the evening of the 14th, two storming parties, one of
French grenadiers and chasseurs, drawn from the brigade of
the Baron de Viomenil and under the command of the Comte
de Deuxponts, and the second, of American light infantry,
taken from the division of the Marquis de Lafayette and
commanded by Alexander Hamilton, were moved out of the
trenches, and, followed by strong supporting battalions, were
advanced as far as was prudent.
It was while the American forlorn hope was standing at ease,
awaiting the signal, that Colonel Brereton came hurrying up to
where Hamilton and Laurens were whispering final details.
"I could n't keep out of this," he explained; "and the
marquis was good enough to say I might serve as a volunteer."
"The more the merrier," responded Laurens. "Come
along with me, Jack. We are to take the fort in the rear,
and you shall have your stomach full of fighting, I'll warrant
you. Here, put this paper in your hat, if you don't want to
be stuck by our own men."
Hamilton, turning from the two, addressed the three battalions.
"Light infantry," he said, "when the council of war
reached the decision to carry the works in our front, Baron de
Viomenil argued that both should be left to his troops, as the
American soldiery could not be depended upon for an assault.
The commander-in-chief would not disgrace us by yielding
to his claim, and 't is for us to prove that he was right. We
have shown the French artillerists that we can serve our guns
quicker and more accurately; now let us see if we cannot
prove ourselves the swifter and steadier at this work. Let
the sergeants see to it that each man in his file has a piece
of paper in his hat, and that each has removed the flint from
his gun. I want you to carry the redoubt without a shot, by
the bayonet alone."
A murmur of assent and applause passed along the lines,
and then all stood listening for the signal. It was a night of
intense darkness, and now, after ten days of unending bombardment,
the cannonading had entirely ceased, giving place
to a stillness which to ears so long accustomed to the uproar
seemed to have a menacing quality in it.
Suddenly a gun boomed loud and clear; and as its echo
reverberated out over the river, every man clutched his
musket more firmly. Boom! went a second close upon the
first, and each soldier drew a deep breath as if to prepare for
some exertion. Boom! went a third, and a restless undulation
swept along the lines. Boom! for a fourth time roared a
cannon, and some of the men laughed nervously. Boom!
rolled out yet a fifth, and the ranks stood tense and rigid,
every ear, every sense, straining.
Boom! crashed the sixth gun, and not a man needed the
"Forward, light infantry!" of the commander, every one
of them being in motion before the order was given. Steadily
they advanced in silence, save only for muttered grumbles
here and there over the slowness of the pace.
Without warning, out of the blackness came a challenge,
"Who goes there?"
Making no answer, the stormers broke into a run and swept
forward with a rush.
"Bang!" went a single musket; and had it been fired into
a mine, the tremendous uproar that ensued could not have
come more instantaneously, for twenty cannon thundered,
and the redoubts fairly seemed to spit fire as the defenders'
muskets flashed. High in the air rose rockets, which lit up
the whole scene, and for the time they lasted fairly turned
the night into day.
As the main and flanking parties swept up to the redoubt, the
sappers and miners, who formed the first rank, attacked the
abattis with their axes; but the troops, mad with long waiting
and fretted by the galling fire of the foe, would not wait,
and, pushing them aside, clambering, boosting, and tumbling
went over the obstruction. Not pausing to form in the
ditch, they scrambled up the parapet and went surging over
the crest, pell-mell, upon the British.
Brereton, sword in hand, had half sprung, half been tossed
upon the row of barrels filled with earth which topped the
breastworks, only to face a bayonet which one of the garrison
lunged up at him. A sharp prick he felt in his chest; but as
in the quick thought of danger he realised his death moment,
the weapon, instead of being driven home, was jerked back,
and the soldier who had thrust with it cried:--
"Charlie!"
"Fred!" exclaimed Jack, and the two men caught each
other by the hand and stood still while the invaders poured
past them over the barrels.
It was Mobray who spoke first. "Oh, Charlie!" he almost
sobbed, "one misery at least has been saved me! My God!
You bleed."
"A pin-prick only, Fred. But what does this mean? You!
and in the ranks."
"Ay, and for three years desperately seeking a death which
will not come!"
"And the Fusileers?"
"Hold this redoubt. Oh, Charlie, to think that your
sword should ever be raised against the old regiment!"
As Mobray spoke, came a cry from the garrison, "We
yield!" and the clatter of their weapons could be heard as
they were grounded, or were thrown to the earth.
"Quick!" cried Brereton, fairly hauling Sir Frederick to
where he stood. "Run, Fred! At least, you shall be no
prisoner." Jack gave him a last squeeze of the hand and a
shove, which sent his friend fairly staggering down into the
ditch.
Mobray sprang through a break in the abattis, but had not
run ten feet when he turned and shouted back something
which the thundering of the artillery prevented Brereton from
entirely hearing, but the words he distinguished were sufficient
to make him catch at the barrels for support, for they were:--
"Janice Meredith ... Yorktown ... point of death
... small-pox."
For a moment Brereton stood in a kind of daze; but as the
full horror of Mobray's words came home to him, he groaned.
Turning, he plunged down into the fortress with a look of a
man bereft, and striding to the commander cried, "For God's
sake, Hamilton, give me something to do!"
"The very man I wanted," replied the little colonel.
"Carry word to the marquis that the redoubt is ours, and that
the supports may advance."
Dashing out of the now open sally port, Jack ran at his
top speed, and within two minutes delivered the report to
General de Lafayette.
"Ah, mes braves," ejaculated the marquis, triumphantly.
"My own countreemen they thought they would not it do,
and now my boys, they have the fort before Deuxponts has
his," he went on, as he pointed into the darkness, out of
which could be seen the flash of muskets. "Ah, we will teach
the baron a lesson. Colonel Barber," he ordered, turning to
his aide, "ride at your best quickness to General Viomenil;
tell him, with my compliments, that our fort, it is ours, and
that we can give him the assistance, if he needs it."
The help was not needed, for in five minutes the second
outpost was also in the possession of the allies. Working
parties were at once thrown forward, and before morning the
two captured positions were connected with and made part of
the already established parallel.
The fall of these two redoubts in turn opened an enfilading
fire on the British, and in desperation, just before dawn on the
15th a sortie was made, and the French were driven out of one
of the batteries, and the guns spiked but the advantage could
not be held against the reserves that came up at the first
alarm, and they were in turn forced out at the point of the
bayonet.
On the morning of the 16th almost a hundred heavy guns
and mortars were in position; and for twenty-four hours the
whole peninsula trembled, as they poured a torrent of destructive,
direct, and raking fire, at the closest range, into the
weakened defences and crumbling town, with scarcely pretence
of resistance from the hemmed in and exhausted British,
every shot which especially told being greeted with cheers from
the trenches of the allies.
One there was in the uniform of a field officer, who never
cheered, yet who, standing in a recklessly exposed position,
staringly followed each solid shot as it buried itself in the
earthworks, or, passing over them, was heard to strike in the
town, and each shell, as it curved upwards and downwards in
its great arc. Sometimes the explosion of the latter would
throw fragments of what it destroyed in the air,--earth,
shingles, bricks, and even human limbs,--raising a cry of
triumph from those who served the piece, but he only pressed
his lips the more tightly together, as if enduring some torture.
Nor could he be persuaded to leave his place for food or
sleep, urge who would, but with careworn face and haggard
eyes never left it for thirty hours. Occasionally, when for a
minute or two there would come an accidental break in the
firing, his lips could be seen to move as if he were speaking to
himself. Not one knew why he stood there following each shot
so anxiously, or little recked that, when there was not one to
fasten his attention, he saw instead a pair of dark eyes shadowed
by long lashes, delicately pencilled eyebrows, a low fore-head
surmounted by a wealth of darkest brown hair, a little
straight nose, cheeks scarcely ever two minutes the same tint,
and lips that, whether they spoke or no, wooed as never
words yet did. And as each time the vision flashed out before
him, he would half mutter, half sob a prayer:--
"Oh, God, rob her of her beauty if you will, but do not let
disease or shot kill her."
It was he, watching as no other man in all those lines
watched, who suddenly, a little after ten o'clock on the morning
of the 17th, shouted:--
"Cease firing!"
Every man within hearing turned to him, and then looked
to where his finger pointed.
On the top of a British redoubt stood a red-coated drummer,
to the eye beating his instrument, but the sound of it was
drowned in the roar of the guns. As the order passed from
battery to battery, the thunder gradually ceased, and all that
could be heard was the distant riffle of the single drum,
sounding "The Parley." Once the cessation of the firing was
complete, an officer, whose uniform and accoutrements flashed
out brilliantly as the eastern sun shone on them, mounted the
works, and standing beside the drummer slowly waved a white
flag.
LXII
WITHIN THE LINES
One there was in Yorktown whose suffering was to
the eye as great as he who had watched from the
outside. A sudden change came over Clowes with
the realisation of their danger. He turned white
on the confirmation of the arrival of the French fleet; and
when the news spread through the town that a deserter had
arrived from the American camp with word of Washington's
approach, he fell on the street in a fit, out of which he came
only when he had been cupped, and sixty ounces of blood
taken from him. Not once after that did he seek out Janice,
or even come to the custom-house for food or sleep, but pale,
and talking much to himself he wandered restlessly about
the town, or still more commonly stood for hours on the
highest point of land which opened a view of the bay, gazing
anxiously eastward for the promised English fleet.
Janice was too occupied, however, with her mother even to
note this exemption. The exposure and fatigue of the long,
hot march to Yorktown had proved too great a tax upon
Mrs. Meredith's strength, and almost with their arrival she
took to her bed and slowly developed a low tidal fever, not
dangerous in its character, but unyielding to the doctor's
ministrations.
It was on the day that the videttes fell back on the town,
bringing word that the allies were advancing, that the girl
noticed so marked a change in her mother that she sent for
the army surgeon, and that she had done wisely was shown
by his gravity after a very cursory examination.
"Miss Meredith," he said, "this nursing is like to be of
longer duration than at first seemed probable, and will over-tax
your strength. 'T is best, therefore, that you let us move
Mrs. Meredith into the army hospital, where she can be
properly tended, and you saved from the strain."
"I could not but stay with her, doctor," answered Janice;
"but if you think it best for her that she be moved, I can as
well attend her there."
The surgeon bit his lip, then told her, "I'll try to secure
you permission, if your father think it best." He went
downstairs, and finding the squire said: "Mr. Meredith, I
have very ill news for you. It has been kept from the army,
but there has been for some days an outbreak of small-pox
among the negroes, and now your wife is attacked by it."
"Don't say it, man!" implored the squire.
"'T is, alas! but too true. It is necessary that she be at
once removed on board the hospital ship, and I shall return
as quickly as possible with my assistants and move her. The
more promptly you call your daughter from her bedside, the
better, for 't will just so much lessen the chance of contagion."
Before the father had well broken the news to Janice, or
could persuade her to leave the invalid, the surgeon was
returned, and, regardless of the girl's prayers and tears, her
mother was placed upon a stretcher, carried to the river-side,
and then transferred to the pest-ship, which was anchored in
mid-stream. Against his better judgment, but unable to resist
his daughter's appeals, the squire sought out Cornwallis with
the request that she might be allowed to attend Mrs. Meredith
on the ship, but the British general refused.
"Not only would it be contrary to necessary rules, sir, but it
would merely expose her needlessly. Fear not that Mrs.
Meredith will lack the best of care, for I will give especial
directions to the surgeons. My intention was to send a flag,
as soon as the enemy approached, with a request that I might
pass you all through the lines, out of danger; and this is a sad
derangement to the wish, for General Washington would certainly
refuse passage to any one sick of this disease, and all
must justify him in the refusal. I still think that 't would be
best to let me apply for leave for you and Miss Meredith to go
out, but--"
"Neither the lass nor I would consider it for a moment,
though grateful to your Lordship for the offer."
"Then I will see that you have room in one of the bomb-proofs,
but 't will be a time of horror, that I warn you."
He spoke only too truly, and the misery of the next twenty
days are impossible to picture. The moment the bombardment
began, father and daughter were forced to seek the protection
of one of the caves that had been dug in the side of the bluff;
and here, in damp, airless, almost dark, and fearfully overcrowded
quarters, they were compelled to remain day and
night during the siege. Almost from the first, scarcity of
wood produced an entire abandonment of cooked food, every
one subsisting on raw pork or raw salt beef, or, as Janice chose,
eating only ship biscuit and unground coffee berries. Once
the fire of the allies began to tell, each hour supplied a fresh
tale of wounded, and these were brought into the bomb-proofs
for the surgeons to tend, their presence and moans adding to the
nightmare; yet but for them it seemed to Janice she would have
gone mad in those weeks, for she devoted herself to nursing
and feeding them, as an escape from dwelling on her mother's
danger and their own helplessness. Even news from the pest-ship
had its torture, for when her father twice each day
descended the bluff to get the word from the doctor's boat, as it
came ashore, she stood in the low doorway of the cave, and at
every shot that was heard shrieking through the air, and at
every shell which exploded with a crash, she held her breath,
full of dread of what it might have done, and in anguish till her
father was safe returned with the unvarying and uncheering
bulletin the surgeons gave him of Mrs. Meredith's condition.
Yet those in the bomb-proofs escaped the direst of the
horrors. Above them were enacted scenes which turned even
the stoutest hearts sick with fear and loathing. The least of
these was the slaughter of the horses, baggage, cavalry, and
artillery, which want of forage rendered necessary, one whole
day being made hideous by the screams of the poor beasts, as
one by one they were led to a spot where the putrefying of
their carcasses would least endanger the health of the soldiery,
and their throats cut. All pretence of care of the negroes
disappeared with the demand on the officers and soldiers to
man the redoubts, and on the surgeons to care for the sick
and wounded soldiers, who soon numbered upwards of two
thousand. Naked and half starving, they who had dreamed
of freedom were left for the small-pox and putrid fever and
for shot and shell to work their will among them. In the abandoned
houses and even in the streets, they lay, sick, dismembered,
dying, and dead, with not so much as one to aid or
bury them.
On the morning of the 17th a fresh number of wounded
men were brought into the already overcrowded cave; and
though Janice was faint with the long days of anxiety, fright,
bad air, poor food, and hard work, she went from man to
man, doing what could be done to ease their torments and
lessen their groans. The last brought in was in a faint, with
the lower part of his face and shoulder horribly torn and shattered
by the fragments of a shell, but a little brandy revived
him, and he moaned for water. Hurriedly she stooped over
him, to drop a little from a spoon between the open lips.
"Janice!" he startled her by crying.
"Who are--? Oh, Sir Frederick!" she exclaimed. "You!
How came you here?"
"They let me out of the prison Clowes me put in," Mobray
gasped; "and having nothing better, I enlisted in the
ranks under another name." There he choked with blood.
"Doctor," called Janice, "come quickly!"
"Humph!" growled the surgeon, after one glance. "You
should not summon me to waste time on him. Can't you see
't is hopeless?"
"Oh, don't--" began Janice.
"Nay, he speaks the truth," said Mobray; "and I thank
God 't is so. Don't cry. I am glad to go; and though I have
wasted my life, 't is a happier death than poor John Andre's."
For a moment only the sobs of the girl could be heard,
then the dying man gaspingly resumed: "A comrade I once
had whom I loved best in this world till I knew you. By a
strange chance we loved the same girl; I wish I might die
with the knowledge that he is to have the happiness that was
denied to me."
"Oh, Sir Frederick, you must not ask it! He--"
"His was so bitter a story that he deserves a love such as
yours would be to make it up to him. I can remember him
the merriest of us all, loved by every man in the regiment,
from batman to colonel."
"And what changed him?" Janice could not help asking.
"T was one evening at the mess of the Fusileers, when
Powel, too deep in drink to know what he was saying, blurted
out something concerning Mrs. Loring's relations with Sir
William. Poor Charlie was the one man in the force who
knew not why such favouritism had been shown in his being put
so young into Howe's regiment. But that we were eight to
one, he'd have killed Powel then and there. Prevented in
that, he set off to slay his colonel, never dreaming he was his
own father. He burst in on me late that night, crazed with
grief, and told me how he had found him at his mother's, and
how she had robbed him of his vengeance by a word. The
next day he disappeared, and never news had I of him until
that encounter at Greenwood. Does he not deserve something
to sweeten his life?"
"I feel for him deeply," replied the girl, sadly, "the more
that I did him a grave wrong in my thoughts, and by some
words I spoke must have cut him to the quick and added pain
to pain."
"Then you will make him happy?"
"No, Sir Frederick, that I cannot."
"Don't punish him for what was not his fault."
"'T is not for that," she explained. "Once I loved him, I
own. But in a moment of direst need, when I appealed to
him, he failed me; and though now I better understand his
resentment against my father and myself I could never bring
myself to forgive his cruelty, even were my love not dead."
"I will not believe it of him. Hot and impulsive he is by
nature, but never cruel or resentful."
"'T is, alas! but too true," grieved Janice.
Once again the baronet choked with blood and struggled
for a moment convulsively. Then more faintly he said: "Wilt
give him my love and a good-by?"
"I will," sobbed the girl.
Nothing more was said for some time, then Mobray asked
faintly: "Is it that I am losing consciousness, or has the firing
eased?"
Janice raised her head with a start. "Why, it has stopped,"
she exclaimed. "What can it mean?"
"That courage and tenacity have done their all, and now
must yield. Poor Cornwallis! I make no doubt he'd gladly
change places with me at this instant."
Here Mr. Meredith's voice broke in upon them, as standing
in the mouth of the cave he called: "Come, Janice. The
firing has ceased, to permit an exchange of flags with the
rebels. Up with ye, and get the fresh air while ye can."
"I will stay here, father," replied the girl, "and care for--"
"Nonsense, lass! Ye shall not kill yourself. I order ye to
come away."
"Go, Miss Meredith," begged Mobray. "You can do
naught for me, and--and--I would have--Do as he says."
His hand blindly groped until Janice placed hers within it,
when he gave it a weak pressure as he said, "'T is many a
long march and many a sleepless night that the memory of
you has sweetened. Thank you, and good-by."
Reluctantly Janice came out of the bomb-proof, blinking
and gasping with the novelty of sunlight and sea breeze, after
the darkness and stench of the last weeks; and her father, partly
supporting, led her up the bluff. It was a strange transformation
that greeted her eyes,--ploughed-up streets and ruins of
buildings dismantled by shot or left heaps of ashes by the
shell, everywhere telling of the fury of the siege.
Keep your eyes closed, lass," suggested the squire, "for
there are sights of horror. In a moment I'll have ye at
headquarters, where things have been kept more tidy. There,
now ye can look; sit down here and fill your lungs with this
good air."
Silently the two seated themselves on the steps of the
Nelson house, now pierced in every direction by the shot of
the allies, though less damaged than many others. Presently
Janice's attention was caught by the sound of shuffling footsteps,
as of one with only partial use of his legs, and glancing
up she gave a slight cry of fear. And well she might, for
there stood the commissary, with his face like one risen from
the dead, it was so white and staring.
"Meredith," he whispered, as if his larynx were parched
beyond the ability to speak aloud, while with one hand he held
his throat in a vain attempt to make his speech less weak and
raucous, "they say 'The Parley' has been beat and a flag
sent out, and that the post is to be surrendered. Tell me
that Cornwallis will never do that. He 's a brave man. Tell
me it is n't so."
"Nothing else is there for him to do, Clowes. He 's made
a splendid defence, but now scarce a gun is left mounted and
powder and shot are both exhausted; to persist longer would
be useless murder."
"No, no! Let him hold out a few days longer. Clinton
will relieve us yet. He must n't give up. God! Meredith,
they'll hang me! He must n't surrender. I can't die just as
life is worth something. No, no! I can't die now. I'm
rich. Ninety thousand pounds I've made. To be caught
like a rat! He must n't surrender the post." And muttering
to himself, the miserable man shambled away, to repeat the
same hopes and expostulations to the next one he found.
"He had another fit last night," remarked the squire; "and
no one has seen him eat or sleep in four days, nor can he be
persuaded to either, but goes wandering unceasingly about the
town, quite unminding of shot and shell. Ho! what 's here?"
he ended, pointing up the street.
Three officers were coming towards them, arm in arm, the
two outsiders in red coats, and the middle one in a blue
one, with buff facings. Occasionally as they advanced, he
in the blue uniform swerved or stumbled slightly, as if he
might be wounded or drunk. But one look at his face was
sufficient to show the cause, for across his eyes was tied a
broad white band.
"Oh, dadda," murmured Janice, suddenly paling, "'t is
Colonel Brereton they have captured!"
"Nonsense, Jan! 't is impossible to know any man, so covered."
The girl attempted no reassertion, and as the three officers
marched up to the headquarters, the two hastily rose from
the steps.
"Ha!" exclaimed one of the British officers. "Here
stands Miss Meredith now, Colonel Brereton, as if to end your
doubting of my assurances of her being alive."
The blindfolded man, with a quick motion, withdrew the
hand passed through the arm of his guide and raised it
impulsively to the bandage.
"Hold," warningly said the British officer, as he caught the
hand. "Small wonder the handkerchief becomes intolerable,
with her to look at, but stay on it must till you are within
doors."
Jack's hand clutched the officer's arm. "God! man, you
are not deceiving me?"
"Speak up, Miss Meredith, and convince the sceptic
that General O'Hara, though Irish, is yet a truth-teller on
occasion."
"Oh, Colonel Brereton," said Janice, "I have just left Sir
Frederick, who is at the point of death, and he gave me a
message of farewell to you. Can you not go to him for a
moment? 'T would be everything to him."
Jack hesitated. "My mission is so important--General
O'Hara, wilt deliver this letter with a proper explanation to
his Lordship, while I see this friend?"
"Certainly. If Miss Meredith will guide you and Lord
Chewton to where he lies, I'll see that Lord Cornwallis gets
the letter."
In the briefest possible time Brereton stood beside Mobray.
Yet when the officer in charge of him untied the handkerchief
and stepped back out of hearing, Jack's eyes did not seek his
friend, but turned instead to the face of the girl standing beside
him. For a moment they lingered in a gaze so steadfast,
so devouring, that, try as she would not to look at him, Janice's
eyes were drawn to his, despite herself. With a long breath,
as if relieved of some dread, Jack finally turned away and
knelt beside his friend. "Fred, old comrade," he said, as he
took his hand.
"Charlie!" gasped Mobray, weakly, as his eyes opened.
"Is 't really you, or am I wandering?"
"'T is I, Fred, come into town with a flag."
"You've beat old Britain, after all, have n't you?"
"No, dear lad," replied Jack, gently. "'T is the old spirit
of England that has conquered, as it ever will, when fighting
for its rights against those who would rob it of them."
"True. We forgot 't was our own whelps, grown strong, we
sought to subjugate. And you had the better man to lead
you, Jack."
"Ay, and so we ever shall, so long as Britain makes men
generals because they are king's bastards."
"Nay, Charlie, don't let the sore rankle through life. 'T is
not from whence you came that counts; 't is what you are.
I'd take your shame of birth, if I could rid myself of mine.
Fortune, position, and opportunity I've wasted, while you have
won rank and glory."
"And now have not one thing to make life worth the while."
"Don't say it, Charlie. There's something for you to live
for still. Put your hand into my shirt--yes--to the left--
now you have it."
Brereton drew forth a miniature set with brilliants; and as
his eyes lit upon it, he gave an exclamation of surprise.
"'T is the one thing I concealed from my creditors,"
moaned Sir Frederick, "and now I leave it to you. Watch
over and care for her for the sake of your love and of mine,
Charlie."
Brereton leaned down and kissed Mobray on the cheek, as
he whispered, "I will."
"Is--is Miss Meredith here, Charlie?" asked the dying
baronet.
"Yes, Sir Frederick," replied Janice, with a choke.
"I--I--I fear I am a ghastly object," he went on, "but
could you bring yourself--Am I too horrible for one kiss of
farewell from you? Charlie will not grudge it to me."
The girl knelt beside Brereton, and stooping tenderly kissed
the dying man on the same spot that Jack had kissed.
Mobray's left hand feebly took hers, and, consciously or unconsciously,
brought the one which still held Jack's to it.
Holding the two hands within his own so that they touched,
he said chokingly:--
"Heaven bless you, and try to forgive him. Good-by both.
I have served my term, and at last am released from the
bigger jail." A little shudder, a twitch, and he was dead.
For a minute the two remained kneeling, then Brereton
said sadly:--
"He was the only friend left me in the world, and I
know not why he is taken and I am left." He withdrew his
hand from contact with the girl's, and rose. "I cannot stay,
for my mission is not to be slighted, but I will speak to
O'Hara, and see that he gets a funeral befitting his rank."
Brereton squared his shoulders and raised his voice, to say:
"Lord Chewton, I am--"
With a quick motion, the girl rose to her feet and said: "I
have no right to detain you, Colonel Brereton, but--but I
want you to know that neither dadda nor I knew the truth concerning
Mrs. Loring when we said what we did on that fatal
night. We both thought--thought--Your confession to
me that once you loved her, and her looking too young to be
your mother, led me into a misconception."
"Then you forgive me?" he cried eagerly.
"For the words you spoke then I do not even blame you,
sir. But what was, can never be again."
"Ay," said the officer, bitterly. "You need not say it. You
cannot scorn me more than I scorn myself."
Not giving her time to reply, he crossed to where the
officer with the bandage stood waiting him, and once again was
blindfolded, and led to headquarters.
"This way," directed General O'Hara, leading him into a
room where stood Cornwallis.
"Are you familiar, sir, with the contents of General Washington's
letter?" asked the earl.
"No, my Lord; I was its bearer only because I begged the
Marquis de Lafayette to secure me the service."
"He grants a suspension of hostilities for two hours from
the delivery of this, for me to put my proposals in writing.
Did he say aught to you, sir, of the terms he would grant?"
"I am no longer on General Washington's staff" answered
Brereton, "so I know not his expectations."
"From all I hear of him," said the general, "he is not a
man to use a triumph ungenerously. He fought bravely under
the British standards, and surely will not now seek to bring
unnecessary shame on them." Seating himself at the table, he
wrote a few lines, which he folded and sealed. "Will you not,
use your influence with him to grant us the customary
honours, and spare the officers from the disgrace of giving up
their side arms?"
"I no longer possess influence with or the confidence of
his Excellency," replied Brereton, gravely; "but he is a generous
man, and I predict will not push his advantage merely
for your humiliation."
"Will he not forbear making our surrender a spectacle?"
"If the talk of the camp be of value, my Lord, 't is said
you are to be granted the exact terms you allowed to General
Lincoln at Savannah; and you yourself cannot but acknowledge
the justice of such treatment."
"'T was not I who dictated the terms of that surrender."
"Your observation, my Lord, forces the reply that 't is a
nation, not an individual, we are fighting."
The proud face of the British general worked for a moment
in the intensity of his emotion. "We have no right to complain
that we receive measure for measure," he said; "and yet
sir, though the lex talionis may be justified, it makes it none
the less bitter."
Colonel Brereton took the letter, his eyes were blindfolded
again, and he was led back beyond the lines.
With the expiration of the two hours, the firing was not
resumed; and all that day and the next flags were passing
and repassing between the lines, with the result that on the
afternoon of the latter, commissioners met at the Moore
house and drew up the terms of capitulation, which were
signed that evening.
At twelve o'clock on the 19th, the English colours were
struck on the redoubts, and the American were hoisted in their
stead. Two hours later the armies of the allies took up
position opposite each other on the level ground outside
the town, and the British troops, with shouldered arms,
cased colours, and bands playing, as stipulated, an English air,
"The World Turned Upside Down," came marching out of
their lines. As they advanced, Washington turned to an
officer behind him and ordered, "Let the word be passed
that the troops are not to cheer. They have fought too well
for us to triumph over them." In consequence not a sound
came from the American ranks as the British regiments
marched up and with tears in many a brave man's eyes
grounded their arms and colours. But the officers, through
Washington's generosity, were allowed to retain their swords,
sparing Cornwallis the mortification of having to be present
in person; and it was General O'Hara who spoke the formal
words of surrender, and who led the disarmed and flagless
regiments back into the town, once the formalities had been
completed. By nightfall twenty-four standards and over eight
thousand prisoners were in the possession of the allied forces.
But one had escaped them, for in a cellar, hidden behind a
heap of refuse and boxes, his body already stripped of its
clothes by pilfering negroes, his face horribly distorted, and
with froth yet on his lips, lay the commissary, dead.
And at the very moment the next day that two companies,
one of British Fusileers, and one of New Jersey Continentals,
were firing a volley over a new-made grave, in which, wrapped
in the flag of his country, and buried with every military
honor, had been deposited the body of him who had been
Sir Frederick Mobray, a fatigue party were rolling into a trench,
and carelessly covering with earth from the battered redoubts,
along with the bodies of negroes and horses, and of barrels of
spoiled pork and beef, the naked corpse of him who had been
John Ombrey, Baron Clowes.
LXIII
ON BRUNSWICK GREEN
On a pleasant June afternoon in the year 1782, the
loungers about the Continental Tavern in the village
of Brunswick were discussing the recent proclamations
of the governor and commander-in-chief forbidding
illicit trading with New York, both of which called
forth general condemnation, well voiced by Bagby, when he
remarked:--
"A man with half an eye can see what they are working
for, and that their objections to our supplying the Yorkers is
only a blind. What they really wants is that we patriots, who
don't spend our days idling about in camp all winter at Rocky-Hill
and now at Middle-Brook, doing nothing except eat the
people's food, and spend the people's money, but who earn a
living by hard work, sha' n't have no market but the continental
commissaries, and so will have to take whatever they
allow to offer us for our crops."
"'T aint the proclamations ez duz the rale injoory,"
asserted Squire Hennion; "fer printed orders duz n't hurt
nobody, but when the gin'ral sends a hull brigade of sogers
ter pervent us sellin' our craps then I consarned ef it aint
tyranny ez every freeman is baound ter resist, jest ez we did
in '65 an' '74."
Bagby, with a sour look at Hennion, said: "That 's one of
the biggest grievances, but not the way some pretended friends
of the people would have us think. What do your fellows say
to officers having been fixed, so that pickets are only put
where they'll stop us from sending boats to New York, while
there 's one right here is allowed to send cargoes just when he
likes?"
"Does yer mean that, Joe?" demanded a farmer.
"That I does," asserted Bagby, looking meaningly at
Hennion. "I was told as a chance was given to the army to
catch the man deepest in the business--and in worse--red
handed. But what 's done? Instead of laying a trap, and
catching him, they don't stir a finger, but wait ten months
and then sends the very officer who did n't do nothing to put
a stop to it. For weeks that high cock-a-lorum Brereton 's
been smelling about this town, and lining the river at night
with his pickets, when all the time he could have come here
any afternoon, and arrested the traitor."
"Thet 'eres lucky fer yer," snarled Hennion viciously.
"yer ain't the only one ez kin tell tales, I warns yer."
"I have n't done no bribing, and it was n't me as the information
was lodged against," retorted Joe, rancourously.
"You can't mean as General Brereton 's winking at the trade,
when scarce a boat 's got out of the river since his brigade
camped there," demanded one of the loungers, indicating
with his thumb Brunswick Green, whitened by rows of tents.
"I mean as Brereton could lay hands any time he pleased
on one traitor, and why he has n't done so is what I want to
know. What 's more, I'd like to know, why Washington
does n't take any notice of the charges that I've been told
was preferred against Brereton nigh six months ago for this
very matter. I tell you, fellows, that money 's being used, and
that some of those who hold themselves highest, is taking it."
"Don't seem like his Excellency 'ud do anythin' ez sneaky
ez that," observed the publican, glancing upwards with pride
at his signboard, now restored to its former position. "Folks
says he's a 'nation fine man."
I'm just sick of all this getting on the knees to a man,"
grumbled Joseph, "just because he went and captivated
Cornwallis. Washington is n't a bit better than some of us
right here and it won't be long before you'll find it out."
"How do you make that, Joe?"
"Is n't he trying to bully Congress into paying the army,
just as if he was king, as I suppose he hopes to be some day.
You wait till he gets his way, and I guess the tax collectors
will make the people sing a different tune about him. If
I'm elected to the Assembly this spring, I calculate to make
some ears buzz and tingle a bit, once the legislature meets.
I'll teach some of these swaggering military chaps--who
were n't nothing but bond-servants once yet who some of you
fellows is fools enough now to talk of sending to Congress--
that this is a nation of freemen, and that now that the British
is licked, we don't have no more use for them, and--"
"Waal, I declare, if thet don't favour Squire Meredith, an'
his darter," interjected a farmer, suddenly, pointing with his
pipe to where an army waggon was approaching on the
Princeton post-road.
"Swan, ef yer ain't right," cried Hennion. "I did hope we
wuz quit of them fer good an' all."
"Wonder what the gal 's in black fer?" observed a lounger.
"My nigger cook Sukey," said the landlord, "told me that
Gin'ral Brereton told her the ole lady wuz mortal sick o' the
small-pox an' that when he went aboard the pest-ship, she
wuz so weak it did n't seem like she could be moved, but he
an' the doctor got her safe ashore, an' when he last hearn,
'bout the first o' the year, she wuz gainin'."
The publican rose and went forward as the van stopped
in front of his door. "Glad tew see yer, squire," he said,
"an' yer, too, Miss Janice. Seems most like ole times.
Hope nuthin 's wrong with Miss Meredith?"
The squire slowly and heavily got down from the box seat.
"We have her body in the waggon," he said wearily and sadly.
"I vum, but that 's too bad!" exclaimed the landlord, and,
for want of words of comfort, he hesitatingly held out his
hand, but recollecting himself, he was drawing it back, when
Mr. Meredith, forgetful of rank, caught and squeezed it.
"She never really rallied," went on the squire, with tears in
his eyes, "and though she lived on through the winter, she
did n't have the strength to mend. She died three weeks
ago, and we have come back here to bury her."
"Naow yer an' Miss Janice come right intew my place, an
I'll fix yer both ez comfortable ez I kin," invited the publican,
warmly, once again forgetting himself so far as to pat Mr.
Meredith on the back. Then as he helped Janice down, he
shouted, "Abram, mix a noggin o' sling, from the bestest, an' tell
Sukey that she's wanted right off, no matter what she's doin'."
The last direction was needless, for the slave, in some way
informed of the arrival, had Janice in her arms ere the landlord
well completed his speech, and was carrying more than
leading her into the hotel and up the stairs to the room reserved
for people of quality only, where she lifted her on to
the bed and with her arms still clasped about the girl wept
over her, half in misery, and half in an almost savage joy,
while repeating again and again, "Oh, my missy, my Missy
Janice, my young missy, my pooty young missy, come back
to ole Sukey."
"Oh, Sukey," sobbed Janice, "but mommy is dead."
"Doan young missy pine," begged the slave. "De Lord
he know best, an' he bring my chile, dat I dun take care ob
from de day he dun gib her, back to ole black Sukey."
Meantime, the squire, after a question as to where the
coffin could be temporarily placed, and a direction to the
driver of the wagon, asked the publican: "We had word in
Virginia that Greenwood was sold by the state; is 't so?"
"Yes, squire, it wuz auctioned last August an' wuz bought
by ole squire Hennion, an' jes naow his Excellency 's usin' it
fer headquarters, till the army moves north'ard."
A sadder look came on Mr. Meredith's face. "That 's worse
news yet," he grieved, with a shake of his head; "but perhaps
he'll not carry his hatred into this." He walked over
to where the all-attentive loungers were sitting, and going up
to Hennion, said humbly: "We were once friends, Hennion,
and I trust that such ill feeling as ye bear for me will not lead
ye to refuse a request I have to make."
"An' what 'ere is thet?" inquired Hennion, suspiciously.
"'T was Matilda's--'t was my wife's dying prayer that we
should bring her back here, and lay her beside her four babies,
and to let her die happy I gave her my word it should be
done. Ye'll not refuse me leave, I'm sure, man, to bury her
in the private plot at Greenwood."
"Yer need n't expect ter fool me by no sich a story. I
ain't goin' ter let yer weaken my title by no sich a trick!"
"For shame!" cried Joseph, and a number of others
echoed his words.
"Yelp away," snarled Hennion, rising; "If't 't wuz yer
bull ez wuz ter be gored yer 'd whine t' other side of yer
teeth." With which remark he shuffled away.
Not stopping to listen to the expressions of sympathy and
disgust that the idlers began upon, Mr. Meredith entered the
public of the tavern.
"Here yer be, squire, jus' mixed from my very bestest
liquor, an' it'll set yer right up," declared the landlord, offering
him a pewter pot.
The squire made a motion of dissent, but seeing the publican's
look of disappointment, he took the cup and drained it.
"Ye've not lost your skill, Simon," he remarked kindly, as
he returned it. "Canst tell me if 't is possible for me to get
a letter into New York quickly?"
"'T aint ez easy ez it wuz afore the soldiers come here
fer they pervent the secret trade, but if yer apply tew Gin'ral
Brereton, ez lodges with the paason, I calkerlate he kin send
it in with a flag if he hez a mind tew"
Mr. Meredith shook his head in discouragement. "It
seems as if all I ask must be begged of enemies. However,
't is small grief, after what has passed. Wilt give me pen and
ink, man?"
While he was writing, Bagby came into the public, and
interrupted him.
"I did n't offer to shake hands, squire," he said, "seeing
as you were in trouble, and took up with other things, but I'm
glad to see you and Miss Janice back, and there 's my hand to
prove it."
Mr. Meredith laid down his pen, and took the proffered
handshake. "Thank ye, Mr. Bagby," he said, meekly.
"I would n't stop what you're at now," went on Joseph, sitting
down at the table, "if I had n't something in my mind
as I think 'll interest you big, and may make some things
easier that you want."
"What's that?"
"If I put you on to this, I guess you'll be so grateful that
I don't need to make no terms beforehand. You 'd give me
about what I asked, would n't you, if I can get you Greenwood
back again?"
"How could ye e'er do that?"
"It 's this way. That general act was n't drawn very careful,
and when old Hennion bid the place in, I looked it over
sharp, and I concluded there was a fighting chance to break
the sale. You see, the act declares certain persons traitors,
and that their property is forfeited to the state. Now what we
must do is to make out that Greenwood was Mrs. Meredith's
and that as she was n't named in the act, of course the sale
was n't valid and is void."
The squire wagged his head despondingly. "By the colony
law it became mine the moment she inherited it."
"You see if I can't make a case of it," urged Bagby. "I've
come out a great hand at tieing the facts up in such a snarl as
no judge or jury can get them straight again, and this time
the jury will be with us before we begin. You see old
Hennion's been putting the screws on his tenants tight as he
can twist them, and glad enough they 'd be if they could only
have you again, 'stead of him. The whole country's so down
on him that I've been planning to prevent his being re-elected
to Assembly this spring. Now, you know, as well as I, what
I would like, and I guess you won't be so set against it now,
for I've got nigh to twenty thousand pounds specie, laid out
in all sorts of ventures, so even if we don't get Greenwood,
I'll be all the better match, but we won't say nothing about
all that till we've seen what comes."
"Nay, Mr. Bagby, I'll not gain your aid by a deceitful
silence. I owe ye an apology for the way I treated your
overture before, but I must tell you that both my own, and
my girl's word is given to Major Hennion, and so--"
"But he's been attainted, an' 'll never be able to come back
here.
"Aye, and we too expect to accept exile with him. When
we left Williamsburg, we planned once we had buried our
dead, to go to New York, where the two will marry, and then
I shall follow them to wherever his regiment is ordered."
"But you don't need to go, now that General Brereton 's
persuaded the governor to pardon you," protested Joseph,
"and you--"
"Was it Brereton did that?" demanded Mr. Meredith.
"Between you and me, squire, I'd been at Livingston ever
since you was sent away, and had about won him over, when
Brereton got back from Virginia and went to see him."
"I'm glad to hear he's willing to do me a kindness, for
not once at Yorktown did he come nigh us, and so I feared
me he would refuse a favour I must shortly ask of him."
"What 's that?"
"I'm writing to Phil Hennion, begging him to intercede
with his father and get me permission to bury my wife at
Greenwood."
"You would n't need to do no asking if you 'd only let me
get the property back."
"You 're right, man, and if it does nothing more, we'll
perhaps frighten him into yielding us that much."
"'T will take time, you understand, squire, and it can't be
done if you go to York or out of the country."
"We'll stay here as long as there 's nothing better to do."
"That's the talk. And don't you wherrit about your
lodgings, if you 're short of cash. I'll fix it with Si, and chance
my getting paid somehow. I'll see him right off, and fix it
so you and Miss Janice has the best there is." He started
to go; then asked, "I hope--there is n't any danger--I
suppose--she'll keep, eh, squire?"
The husband winced. "Yes," he replied huskily. "The
Marquis de Lafayette, quite unasked, ordered the commissaries
to give us all we needed of a pipe of rum."
"That was mighty generous," said Bagby, "for I suppose
he had to pay for it. Even a major-general, I take it, can't
draw no such a quantity gratis."
"I writ him, asking that I might know the cost, but he
answered that 't was nothing. 'T is impossible to say what we
owe to him. 'T was he, so Doctor Craik told me, who asked
him to bring Mrs. Meredith off the pest-ship, and 't was he
who furnished us with the army-van in which we've journeyed
from Virginia. Had we been kinsmen, he could not have
been kinder."
"Now that only shows how a man tries to take credit for
what he has n't had a finger in. Brereton, who, since he was
made a general and got so thick with the governor, has put
on airs enough to kill a cat, told your Sukey, as now is cook
here, that 't was he went aboard the pest-ship with the doctor,
and brought her off."
"'T is the first I've heard of it," averred Mr. Meredith,
incredulously yet thoughtfully.
"I tell you that Brereton is a sly, sneaky fellow, as needs
watching in more than one matter. Nigh ten months ago I
showed him how he could nab old Hennion, so that like as
not he'd have gone to the gallows, but he did n't stir a
finger, durn him! Oh, here 's Si, now. Say, I want you to
treat Mr. Meredith and Miss Janice real handsome, and don't
trouble them with no bills, but leave me to square it," he said
to the landlord, who had come bustling in.
"Lor, Joe, yer duz n't think I wuz goin' tew make no
charge fer this? Why, the squire lent me the money ez
started me, an' I calkerlate he kin stay on here jus' about ez
long ez he elects tew." Then the publican laughed. "Like
ez not there won't be no supper tew-night, squire. That 'ere
Sukey hez got yer gal tucked in my best tester bed, an' is
croonin' her tew sleep jes' like she wuz a baby ag'in. She
most bit my head off when I went in tew tell her supper-time
wuz comin'. 'Stonishin' haow like white folks niggers kin feel
sometimes, ain't it?"
"I bought her when our first baby was coming, and she
saw four born and buried, and nigh broke her heart over
each one in turn," said the squire, huskily; "so when Janice
came, 't was as if she was her own child." He rose, his letter
completed, and with a word to explain his movements, walked
across the green to the parsonage, where his knock brought
Peg to the door, and resulted in a series of wild greetings and
exclamations. At last, however, the old-time master was permitted
to make known the object of his call, and was ushered
into a room where Brereton was sitting writing.
"Mr. Meredith!" exclaimed Jack, starting to his feet.
"How are you all--that--how is Miss Meredith?"
"She's stood the grief and--I know not if ye have heard
of Mrs. Meredith's death?"
"Yes; a friend in Virginia wrote me."
"She's borne up under that and under the hard journey
wonderfully, and has been braver and more cheerful, I fear,
than I myself. I've come to ye, General Brereton, to ask if
ye could send a letter for me, under flag, to New York?"
"Certainly, if 't is of a character that makes it allowable."
"I've not sealed it, that you might read it," answered the
squire, holding out his letter.
Brereton read it slowly, as if he was thinking between the
words. "It shall be sent in at once," he promised, his lips
set as if to conceal some emotion. Then he asked, "You
write to Colonel Hennion as if--are he and--you intend to
give Miss Meredith to him?"
"Yes."
Jack wheeled and looked out of a window for an instant;
without turning he said, "Is she--does she--she is
willing?"
"Ay, the lass has at last found she loves him, and is as
ready now as I ever was."
Again Brereton was silent for a breathing space. "When
will they wed?" he questioned finally.
"Once we can get to York."
"And that will be?"
"The burial of Mrs. Meredith and other matters will keep
us in Brunswick for an uncertain length of time."
"And you will lodge where?"
"At the tavern."
"'T is no place for Miss Meredith."
"Beggars cannot be choosers, sir."
For a moment Brereton said nothing; then remarked as he
faced about, "If I can serve you in any other way, Mr.
Meredith, hesitate to ask nothing of me."
"My thanks to ye, general," answered Mr. Meredith, gratefully.
"I fear me I little merit courtesy at your hands."
"'T is a peace-making time," replied Jack, "and we'll put
the ill feeling away, as 't is to be hoped Great Britain and
our country will do, once the treaty is negotiated and
ratified."
"'T is no country I have," rejoined the squire, sadly. "One
word, sir, and I will be gone. I was but just told that 't was
ye who got Mrs. Meredith off the pest-ship; and if--"
Brereton held up his hand. "'T was the Marquis who gave
the order, Mr. Meredith, and the Surgeon-General who
superintended the removal."
"So I was told at the time, but I feared that I might have
been misinformed. None the less, general, I am your present
debtor;" with which words the squire bowed himself out.
Left alone, Brereton stood like a stone for some minutes
ere he resumed his seat. He glanced down at the sheet, on
which was written:--
Brunswick, June 13th, 1782.
"SIR,--After three months' test, I can assure your Excellency
that it is possible to very materially if not entirely check
the illicit trade with New York, but only by the constant employment
of a considerable force of men in a service at once
fatiguing to them and irritating to the neighbourhood. I would
therefore suggest, in place of these purely repressive measures,
that others which will at once bring to justice those most deeply
concerned in the trade, and terrify by example those who are
only occasionally guilty, be employed, and therefore beg to submit
for your consideration the following plan of action.
Shoving the paper to one side, Brereton took a fresh sheet,
and wrote a hurried letter, which, when sealed, he addressed
to "Lady Washington, Headquarters at Greenwood Manor."
This done, he finished his official letter, and going to the rows
of tents on the green, he delivered the two into the hands of
an officer, with an order to ride with them at once.
On the following day a coach drew up in front of the Continental
Tavern, and with much dignity a negro in livery alighted
from the seat beside the driver.
"You will deliber Lady Washington's an' my deferential
complimen's to Miss Janice Meredith; likewise dis letter from
his Excellency," he said grandly to the tavern-keeper.
"Waal, of all airs fer a nigger!" snorted mine host. "Duz
his Excellency run yer jobs fer yer ter hum? Guess yer ain't
so fat, be yer, that yer keant carry that inter the settin'-room
yerself."
With a glance of outraged dignity that should have annihilated
the publican, the man went across the hall, and after a
knock, entered.
"Why, Billy!" exclaimed Janice, starting up from her
chair, her arm outstretched.
The intense dignity melted away in a breath, and the darky
chuckled and slapped himself with delight as he took the
hand. "Der, now!" he cried, "I dun assure her Ladyship
dat Missy would remember Billy. Here am a letter from his
Excellency, Miss."