“You have been very quiet these past few weeks, Miss Mollie. What has
been the matter? We have not seen you,” contended Miss Sallie Redman,
when she greeted Mollie at the Greydons’ party.
The old mansion at Dorminghurst was brilliantly illuminated and the
guests were fast arriving in carriages, and passing up one side of the
double staircase and down the other.
People were beginning to come to Philadelphia for the autumn session
of Congress. The French army had landed at Newport, and the French
fleet was fitting out for a demonstration against New York or against
some other stronghold of the English. Enthusiasm among the Whigs was
running high. The Tories were beginning to look with more favor upon
independence. The French minister M. de la Luzerne was the popular lion
of the hour, and anywhere that he was invited was sure to be thronged
with the dignitaries of a new nation.
The Greydons began the social season for the purpose of preparing
society for the early announcement of the engagement between Roderick
Barclugh and their daughter. When the invitations were first issued,
the purpose was to announce the engagement at this time, but Mollie
would not yet give her consent to Barclugh. Dr. Greydon could see no
reason, but Mollie was waiting to see Segwuna. However, Dr. Greydon
consulted with his wife and decided that if the announcement of the
engagement could not be made, a social function at Dorminghurst at
present would crystallize the enthusiasm of the Whigs and bring the
counsellors of the nation together for an exchange of ideas and
sentiments.
Mollie received with her mother and Dr. Greydon when the guests came
into the reception room. She was beaming with good-nature but when she
saw Roderick Barclugh approaching with the brilliant and haughty Miss
Bessie Shippen on his arm the color rose to her cheeks as Barclugh
shook Mollie’s hand and lingered long enough to say:
“You charm me with your beauty and happiness this evening.”
Miss Shippen shook the hand of Mollie with hauteur and looked at her
gown with indifference; and when she and Barclugh passed on through the
crowded rooms, she remarked bitterly:
“I do not see why that young Quakeress turns the men so crazy.”
“Because she has sense, beauty and no guile in her heart,” retorted
Barclugh snappily.
Miss Shippen exclaimed:
“Ah, that is it!”
The Shippens, the Redmans, and the Chews were there among the chief
representatives of the Tory sentiment. They congregated in groups by
themselves and seemed to feel that their sentiments were not popular,
when they saw the brilliant assemblage of Whigs from every state,
conversing about the topics of the hour.
General Schuyler from New York was talking to M. de la Luzerne, the
French minister, about the campaign, spiritedly:
“This arrival of the French troops and the fleet at Newport has given
us new life, M. de la Luzerne,” explained General Schuyler. “General
Washington has gone to Hartford to meet Count de Rochambeau. Our
committee expect to hear from him at West Point on his return. The
campaign is expected to take on an active turn if Clinton moves out of
New York,” concluded the General.
“Thank you, General Schuyler,” returned the French minister suavely.
“By the way, General, did I ever tell you how Arnold wanted to borrow
money from me on account of his importance and influence in affairs?”
“Why, no. Do tell it,” insisted the General.
“This is strictly _entre nous_, General,” related the minister. “Arnold
wanted a loan from the French government and I quickly told him: ‘You
desire of me a service which would be easy for me to render, but which
would degrade us both. When the envoy of a foreign power gives, or if
you will, lends money, it is in order to corrupt those who receive it,
and to make them the creatures of the sovereign whom he serves; or
rather, he corrupts without persuading; he buys and does not secure.
But the firm league entered into between the King and the United States
is the work of justice and the wisest policy. It has for its basis a
reciprocal interest and good-will. In the mission, with which I am
charged, my true glory consists in fulfilling it without intrigue or
cabal, without resorting to any secret practices, and by the force
alone of the conditions of the alliance,’” concluded M. Luzerne.
“Bravo, bravo, M. Luzerne. That Arnold has given our committee much
concern and trouble. He is a brilliant leader, but he has no sense
of propriety or diplomacy,” asserted General Schuyler, who left the
minister as he seemed to be holding a small reception of his own,--so
many people pressed around him to say a word about the arrival of the
French troops and fleet.
The music and dancing were going on in the large rooms across the
great hallway from the reception room. Mollie was there holding court,
entertaining a group of the younger men with her brilliant repartee.
Family representatives of the members of Congress from the South were
there;--each family coming in an equipage of its own.
The minuet was danced in its stateliest fashion; Miss Greydon and
Roderick Barclugh, Sally Chew and Mr. Carroll, Miss Hancock and Mr.
Custis, Miss Schuyler and Richard Henry Lee, formed the set. As the
music swelled in rhythmic measure, the richly gowned mademoiselles
and the bachelors, scions of the most distinguished families, tiptoed
and curtsied through the sinuous changes of the dance, to the entire
approbation of the critical assemblage.
Mollie was showered with attentions and compliments, some even going
as far as to hint slyly at the attentions of Roderick Barclugh. Mr.
Livingston of New York saw the minuet and noticed Roderick Barclugh
dancing with the daughter of the host. He turned to Charles Thomson,
the Secretary of Congress, and asked:
“Mr. Thomson, who is this gentleman, Mr. Barclugh? I have heard his
name, but I never saw him before. Where does he come from to us?”
Mr. Thomson, who was always very reserved, replied quietly:
“He was introduced to us by a letter from Benjamin Franklin, who in
turn was asked to give him the letter by the French Monarch.”
Mr. Livingston then remarked:
“Well, the French Secretary must then know his antecedents. Ah, here is
M. Marbois. We’ll ask him.”
“M. Marbois, do you know who this gentleman, Roderick Barclugh, is?”
questioned Mr. Livingston.
“Yes,” replied the Secretary pleasantly. “He is the second son of Sir
George Barclugh, who resided, when living, upon his estates in England.
I have heard that he has been engaged in secret missions of diplomacy.
But I do not know what interest brings him to Philadelphia.”
“It doesn’t matter,” continued the member of Congress. “I have
understood that he is paying attentions to Miss Greydon. I was anxious
to know his antecedents.”
When this conversation was taking place between the French Secretary
and Mr. Livingston, General Schuyler went over to the latter
gentleman and touched him on the arm. The General was deathly pale
and immediately the two went to a remote part of the house and held a
hurried consultation.
“Mr. Livingston,” said the General. “The news has just reached the
city that General Arnold has gone over to the enemy and Major Andre,
Adjutant-General of the British Army, is a prisoner in the hands of
General Washington, and that our cause has just escaped a terrible
calamity.”
“What!” exclaimed Livingston. “Has Arnold gone over to the enemy? And
you and I had just pleaded with the Commander to give him West Point!
What did he attempt to do?” questioned Livingston excitedly.
“Why, he planned to surrender West Point,” answered the General.
“Is it possible?” cried Livingston. “We must leave at once. We cannot
tell what may happen, or whom to trust.”
The two members of the Committee on Military Affairs of Congress
hastily found the host and gave the news to him and left for the city
together.
The news soon spread throughout the house, and animated groups were
collected, discussing the news.
Mollie was talking to Barclugh and Mrs. White, the Rector’s wife, when
Sally Milling came up to the group and exclaimed:
“Have you heard the news that has just reached the city?”
“No, what is it?” asked the other three, almost in unison.
“Why, General Arnold has gone over to the enemy, and Major Andre is
a prisoner in the hands of General Washington, and a plot has been
unearthed to surrender West Point to the British!”
Roderick Barclugh stood as though stricken with paralysis. His face
became ashen white. He tried to speak but his voice failed him.
Mollie Greydon and the other two ladies looked at Barclugh for an
instant and then Mollie stepped toward him as she asked:
“What is the matter, Mr. Barclugh? Are you ill?”
“No, no. It is nothing,” muttered Barclugh. “You will excuse me,
ladies. I had better retire.”
Roderick Barclugh went to the table where refreshments were served and
after partaking of a glass of punch, he sought his hostess and Miss
Mollie, then left in his carriage for his lodgings.
As soon as the Shippens heard the news they retired precipitately, for
the information was too crushing to wait for any formalities.
Nothing could exceed the excitement that ran through the large and
brilliant assemblage at the Greydons’. Even the music and the minuet
could not keep the guests from a discussion of all the Arnold family
troubles for the past two years. Everybody was so astounded that a
gloom was cast over the social pleasures of the evening. At last a
general leave-taking was in order and the last carriage rolled down the
avenue of hemlocks at half past twelve o’clock.