AT HEADQUARTERS
"But mercy is above this sceptered sway,
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute of God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's,
When mercy seasons justice."
--_Shakespeare._
The route now took the little party through a most romantic country,
but after leaving Clifford their distress of mind was such that at
first they did not remark it particularly. Nowhere in the world can
there be found more beautiful scenery than that along the Hudson
River. The views vary from what is pleasing and picturesque to that
which is in the highest degree magnificent. And so, as gentle wooded
slopes were succeeded by bold promontories, deep vales by extensive
valleys, hills by lofty precipices, Harriet and Peggy found themselves
roused from their apathy, and their attention, in spite of grief, was
caught by the majesty of the noble river.
War with its attendant evils receded into the background for the time
being, recalled only by the fortifications of New York Island, and the
batteries of Stony Point and its sister garrison of Verplanck's Point
on the eastern shore. Sometimes the journey led them through fine
woods; at others, through well cultivated lands and villages inhabited
by Dutch families. Sometimes there were long stretches of dark
forests, wild and untamed as yet by civilization; at other times, the
road wound along the top of the Palisades, those rocky heights that
extend like everlasting walls along the Jersey bank of the river.
Again, the road descended these rocky walls skirting their base, and
they found themselves marveling at the broad expanse of the water
which in places seemed like a vast lake.
As they ascended into the Highlands, cliffs seemed piled on cliffs
rising precipitously from the water's edge, forming a surprisingly
beautiful and sublime spectacle. The majestic river hemmed in by
towering heights densely covered with forests made a picture of
impressiveness and grandeur.
Again and again the maidens drew rein, sometimes uttering cries of
delight as some new prospect unfolded its beauty; at others, sitting
in silence awed by the magnificence of the panorama expanding before
them. In such mood as this they approached West Point on the afternoon
of the fourth day after leaving Chatham.
The river here ran in a deep channel formed by the mountains whose
lofty summits, on every side, were thick set with redoubts and
batteries. From the fort of West Point proper, which lay on the edge
of the river, to the very top of the mountain at the foot of which it
stood were six different forts, all in the form of an amphitheater so
arranged as to protect each other.
"And this," spoke Harriet with quickened interest, "is the fortress
that General Arnold was to deliver into our hands?"
"Yes," answered David Owen briefly. Americans could not even yet bear
mention of the treason of the brilliant Arnold.
"It looks to be an important post," commented the English maiden with
a glance around that embraced all the grim redoubts of the lofty
summits. "Had we obtained it the misfortune at Yorktown would not
have occurred."
"Perchance not, lass. Here we are at the sally-port of the fort. I
will turn you girls over to Mrs. Knox for the night, while I find
quarters elsewhere. I for one am glad to reach here. It hath been hard
riding. Are ye not tired?"
"I am, father," answered Peggy wearily. "And yet I have been delighted
with the beautiful river."
"And I also," agreed her cousin.
With the morning came the realization of the matter which had brought
them. The noble river with its superb amphitheater of mountains no
longer had power to enthrall their senses. Clifford's fate rested upon
the result of the interview before them, and that was the thing which
now concerned them. Newburgh, where General Washington's headquarters
were, was not far distant. A ride of a few hours brought them to the
southern extremity of the village, where the Hasbrouck house was
situated. It was a farmhouse, constructed in the Dutch fashion, on the
west side of the Hudson. The front stoop faced the river, and a
beautiful picture of mountains, sky and water was spread before the
eye, but it extorted but a passing glance.
The army was at West Point, and only the life-guards were near the
quarters of the commander-in-chief. Hence, there was lacking much of
the bustle and movement which ordinarily existed about the chief's
quarters. An orderly took charge of their horses, and presently they
were ushered into a large room which served as office as well as
dining-room for the general. He sat now before a small table looking
over some papers, but rose as they entered the room. He looked weary,
and there were tired lines upon the strong face, but his manner was
courteously attentive.
"Ah, Mr. Owen," he said shaking hands cordially with David Owen. "I am
glad to see you. I have excellent reports of the work you are doing in
Lancaster. Miss Peggy, 'tis long since I have had the pleasure of
seeing you. And--Miss Harriet!"
The smile died from his lips as he uttered her name. General
Washington had an excellent memory for faces and events. Harriet's
duplicity at Middlebrook was not easily forgotten; so his expression
changed, and his face grew stern and cold. Harriet's color faded and
she began to tremble. Nevertheless she sank in a deep courtesy before
him.
"It was my understanding," he continued, "that you were banished from
our lines. If this be true how is it that we are favored with your
company?"
"Sir," she answered, gaining control over herself and speaking in a
steady voice, "'tis true that I was banished to New York; but I think
you will find that 'twas only from Philadelphia. I did not understand
that it was from the entire line. I know, your Excellency, that I have
no right to come to you to ask a favor. I have no claim by which I can
urge even consideration. Still, I do ask mercy. I do entreat you to
use clemency; not because I deserve it, but because I do not believe
that you would be guilty of aught that savored of inhumanity or
barbarity."
Harriet was very beautiful as she made her plea, her unusual humility
lending softness to the customary hauteur of her manner. A perplexed
look crossed the general's countenance at her words. He bent toward
her courteously.
"Unravel the matter, I beg of you," he said more gently. "Do I
understand that something hath gone amiss for which you are entreating
lenity?"
"It is not for myself, sir. My cousins here can bear witness that I
came within your lines for the sole purpose of seeing my brother." She
raised her head proudly, and met his glance with unwavering eyes. "He
was at Lancaster. At Lancaster, where he hath been chosen as the most
unfortunate victim of retaliation. It is for him I plead."
"Your brother?" For the merest second a gleam of astonishment shone on
his face. It faded, leaving his countenance as impassive as ever. He
turned to the table, and picked up a folded document from among the
many lying upon it.
Hastily he scanned the page, then looked up. "'Tis as I thought," he
said. "Brigadier-General Hazen hath reported concerning that matter,
and the young man herein named is not your brother, Miss Harriet. On
the contrary, 'tis one Captain Wilson Williams who hath been the
unfortunate selected to pay the penalty."
"And Captain Williams is my brother, sir. My brother, Clifford Owen,
who because father did not wish him to go into the service enlisted
under another name. My brother, and he hath been chosen to die
shamefully because another hath committed a dastardly crime. Sir, in
the name of that mother whose son you are, I entreat you to have mercy
upon him who is an only son, an only brother----"
"And a mother in New Jersey mourns an only son, and she a widow," he
interrupted, his voice implacable in its sternness. "Miss Harriet, I
lament the cruel necessity which alone can induce so distressing a
measure. It is my desire not only to soften the inevitable calamities
of war, but even to introduce on every occasion as great a share of
tenderness and humanity as can possibly be exercised in a state of
hostility. But for the barbarous and inhuman murder of Captain Johnson
there must be satisfaction."
"And will it give satisfaction to wreak vengeance upon an innocent
person?" she cried stung to bitterness. The grim countenance of the
general was not encouraging. His eyes seemed to pierce her as with
cold steel. "Is it not as barbarous, as inhuman to execute one who is
as guiltless as yourself in the matter? You, sir, are dealing
ruthlessly when you visit such penalty upon a victim. It shows want of
humanity."
"I am listening to you, Miss Harriet," he said patiently, "because you
are grieved and anguished over the affair. I know that you are much
overwrought. Therefore will I explain to you that by all the usages of
war, and upon the principle of retaliation I should have been
justified in executing an officer of equal rank with Captain Johnson
immediately upon receiving proofs of his death, and then informing the
British commander of what I had done."
"You are so stern," she cried with growing excitement. "So stern! So
unfeeling!"
"Nay," he protested, and there was compassion in his tone. "Not
unfeeling. Although duty calls me to make this decisive determination
in the matter humanity prompts me to drop a tear for the unfortunate
offering. I most devoutly wish that something might be done to save
his life."
"You do?" she cried eagerly. "Why, sir, 'tis easily done. A scratch of
the pen is all that is necessary. Oh, 'tis a great thing to have such
power! See, here are ink-horn, powder and paper! What doth hinder you
from writing an order for his release?"
She stepped quickly to the table as she spoke, and picking up a quill
held it appealingly toward him. His eyes softened.
"Stay!" he said. "I do feel just that way, Miss Harriet, but there is
a duty that must be performed toward our people. There are many
American prisoners held by the enemy. Among them some as young, as
manly, as lovable as your brother. If the matter be suffered to go by
without retaliation what assurance have we that they will not be as
lawlessly dealt with as Captain Johnson?"
"Oh!" she said looking at him miserably. "But Clifford hath been
guilty of naught. Were he a spy, an informer, a deserter, I would not
ask you to abate one jot or tittle of his fate. I might in such case
try to rescue him by trickery, by deceit, by any means that would
save his life, but I would not question the justice of his doom. But
he is not a spy, not an informer, not a deserter----"
[Illustration: "I KNEEL TO YOU, SIR."]
"Nor was Captain Johnson," he reminded her. "Yet he was hanged most
treacherously."
"But not by Clifford, sir! Not by Clifford! He would scorn to do such
a deed." She stood for a moment, regarding him with such pleading that
Peggy choked. Suddenly Harriet crossed the room and flung herself
before him.
"Sir," she cried seizing his hand, "Harriet Owen hath never knelt to
mortal man before save her king. I kneel to you, sir, and I beg, I
implore you to exercise clemency toward my brother. He hath been
guilty of naught save that he hath served his king. He hath a
blameless reputation as a soldier, and you yourself are a soldier. It
may be just to retaliate; I know not. But is there not mercy as well
as justice? 'Twill be great and noble to exert leniency in such a case
as this."
"Rise, I beg of you," he exclaimed, much pained. "I must do my duty,
however abhorrent it may be to me. There hath been mercy shown
already in that your brother hath had several days of grace, and the
order for his execution not yet signed."
At that Harriet clung to his hand desperately.
"Do not sign it yet, sir. You will not give his life--give me then a
little time."
"For what purpose? Is not uncertainty full of anguish and suspense?"
"No, no, no," she answered vehemently. "It hath hope, possibilities.
Sir, give me time to go to Sir Guy Carleton to lay the matter before
him. He is our own commander. He should give you Captain Lippencott,
the one who did the deed."
"And there we are agreed," he made answer. "I will do this, Miss
Harriet, though I fear that your efforts will meet with no success.
With your commander-in-chief lies the only gleam of hope that the
situation possesses. Sir Guy hath reprobated the act in no uncertain
terms, but still he finds himself unable to do aught than to accept
the rulings of the court-martial. Go to him, Miss Harriet, and bring
all the influence you have to bear upon him that he may release to us
this man, Lippencott. No one would rejoice at your success more than
I. Meantime your brother shall live until the result is made known to
me. You shall have a reasonable time allowed."
"Thank you, sir. I thank you----" The girl attempted to lift the hand
to which she still clung to her lips, but a deadly faintness seized
her. She trembled, grew pale, and fell in an unconscious heap at his
feet.