XLIV
HOW WE CAME TO THE BEGINNING OF THE END
It was on the third day of December, a cheerless and comfortless day atthe close of the most inclement autumn I ever remember, that the patriotArmy of the South was paraded on the court-house common in Charlotte tolisten to the reading of General Gates's final order, the orderannouncing the arrival of Major-general Greene from Washington'sheadquarters to take over the command of the field forces in theCarolinas.
As members of Colonel William Washington's light-horse, Richard Jenniferand I were both present at this installation of the new field commander;and it was here that we both had our first sight of Nathaniel Greene,the "Hickory Quaker."
Now the historians, as is their wont, have pictured Greene the generalto the complete effacement of Greene the man, and it is in my mind thatyou may like to see the new commander as we saw him, making his firstinspection of Horatio Gates's poor "shadow of an army" on that dismalDecember day in Charlotte.
In years he was rising forty; and as weight goes he was a heavy man,pressing hard upon fifteen stone with the knuckle of it under hiswaistcoat. None the less, though his great bulk made him sit his horsemore like a farmer than a soldier, he had the muscular shoulders andarms of the anchor-smiths, to which trade he had been bred.
The hint of grossness which his figure gave was not borne out by hisface. Like my Lord Cornwallis's, his eyes were womanish large, and noseand mouth and the lift of the brow were cast in a mold to match; yetthere was that in his face which made it the mask of a soul thoughtfuland serene; and his ruddy complexion and fair hair gave him a look ofopenness that a dark man is like to miss.
A skilled soldier, with a good promise of strenuous patience, was mysumming up of him, and Dick saw him as I did, though with a moreprophetic eye.
"He will make his mark, Jack, look you; not in stubborn in-fighting atthe barrier, mayhap, like Dan Morgan, nor in a brilliant dash, like ourcolonel, but in his own anchor-smith's way--a heat at a time, and a blowat a time," said Jennifer; and I nodded.
Stirrup to stirrup with the new commander as he passed down the linerode Daniel Morgan, big, strong, masterful, handsome, the very pick andchoice of leaders for his rough and ready riflemen. Like most of hismen, he scorned to wear a uniform, appearing on parade, as in the field,in a neat-fitting hunting-shirt of Indian-tanned buckskin withfringings of the same--a costume that set off his gigantic figure as notailor-fine coat could have set it off.
When he pulled his horse down to make it keep step with the sedaterpacings of the general's, we could hear him declaring, with an oath,that his Eleventh Virginia alone would give a good account of all theTories between the Catawba and the Broad; and when the cavalcade passedthe rifle corps, the men flung their hats and cheered their leader inopen defiance of all discipline.
Ah me! they tell me that in after years this stout Daniel, the"Lion-bearder," as we used to dub him, became a doddering old man, evenas thy old tale-teller is now; that he put off all his roistering waysand might be found any Lord's Day shouting, not curses, as of yore, butpsalm tunes, in the church whereof he was a pillar! But 'twas the otherDaniel we knew; the bluff, hearty man of his two hands, who could pummelthe best boxer in his own regiment of fisticuffers; who could out-curse,out-buffet and out-drink the hardiest frontiersman on the border.
Next conspicuous in the general's suite was our colonel, the pink oflight-horse commanders, with only Harry Lee in all the patriot rank andfile for his peer. 'Tis a thousand pities that William Washington, "theMarcellus of the army," has had to suffer the eclipse which must dim theluster of all who walk in the shadow of a greater of the same name. Forsurely there never was a finer gentleman, a truer friend, a noblerpatriot, or, according to his opportunities, an abler officer than wasour beloved colonel of the light dragoons.
But this is all beside the mark, you will say; and you will be chafingrestively to know how Dick and I had come together in this troop ofColonel Washington's; to know this in a word and to pass on at a gallopto the happenings which followed. Nay, in fancy's eye I can see youturning the page impatiently, wondering where and when and how thistiresome old word-spinner will make an end.
As Margery had promised, I passed out of my garret prison and out ofdoor on that memorable evening of October fourteenth to find the Britishgone from Charlotte and the town jubilant with patriotic joy.
Having nothing to detain me, and being bound in honor by the wish of mydear lady not to follow and give myself up to the retreating Britishgeneral, I took horse and rode to Salisbury, where I had the great goodfortune to find Dick, already breveted a captain in Colonel Washington'scommand, hurrying his troop southward to whip on the British withdrawal.
Here was my chance to drown heartburnings in an onsweeping tide ofaction, and then and there I became a gentleman volunteer in Dick'scompany, asking nothing of my dear lad save that I might ride at hisstirrup and share his hazards.
Touching the hazards, there were plenty of them in the seven weekspreceding and the month or more following our new general's coming totake the field, as you may know in detail if you care to follow thegallopings of Colonel Washington's light-horse troop through the pagesof the histories. But these have little or naught to do with my tale,and I pass them by with the word you will anticipate; that in all thedashes and forays and brushes with the enemy's foraging parties andoutposts, no British or Tory bullet could find its billet in the man whowas enamored of death.
As for my most miserable entanglement, the lapse of time made it neitherbetter nor worse, nor greatly different; and there was little in all theskirmishings and gallopings to beat off the bandog of conscience, orthat other and still fiercer wild beast of starved love, that gnawed atme day and night.
Though the hope for some easement would now and then lift its head, Iwas reminded daily that hope itself was hopeless; and when the dayslengthened into weeks and the weeks into months, bringing no salving forthe double hurt, I knew that time could only make me love Margery themore; that there be wounds that heal, and others that open afresh ateach remembrance of the hand that gave them.
One grain of comfort I had in all these dreary weeks. 'Twas whilst wewere quartering in Charlotte, and I had chanced to fall upon thehalf-blood Scipio who had been left by Gilbert Stair to be thecaretaker of the deserted town house.
As you will remember, 'twas he who had brought me the drugged tea, andthe word I had from him made me hot with shame for the cruel imputationI had put upon my dear lady. "Yas, sar; gib um sleep-drop to make buckramassa hol' still twell we could tote 'im froo de window an' 'roun' dehouse an' up de sta'r. Soljah gyards watch um mighty close dat night;yes, sar!" And thus this nightmare thought of mine was turned intoanother thorn to prick me on the self-accusing side. 'Twas her keenwoman's wit, and no cold-blooded plan to cheat the gallows, that madeher give me the sleeping draft. Having the object-lesson of my latesurrender before her, she had no mind to let me mar the rescue by wakingto forbid it. And when I taxed her, 'twas natural pride that drove herto let me go on thinking the unworthy thought, if so I would.
I did penance for my disloyalty as a despairing lover might, and I dothink it made me tenderer of Dick, whose bearing to me through all thesetempestuous weeks was most nobly generous and forgiving. I say forgivingbecause I was often but the curstest of companions, as you would guess.For when I was not bent upon finding that wicket gate of death whichwould let me from the path of these two, I was in a wicked tertian ofthe mind whose chill was of despair, and whose fever was a hot desireto look once more into the eyes of my dear lady before the wicket gateshould open for me.
'Twas this desire that finally drew me to her--the desire and anotherthing which shall have mention in its place. The new year was now come,and the Southern Army, as yet too weak to cope with the enemy, was cutinto two wings of observation; one under General Greene himself atCheraw Hill, the other and lesser in the knoll forests of the Broad withDaniel Morgan for its chief; both watching hawk-like the down-sitting ofmy Lord Co
rnwallis, who seemed to have taken root at Winnsborough.
As you will know, Washington's light-horse was with Morgan; and we ate,drank and well-nigh slept in the saddle. But for all our scoutings andoutridings, and all Dan Morgan's hearty cursings at the ill success ofthem, we could come by no sure inkling of Lord Cornwallis's designs. AsI have said, the British commander seemed to have taken root and was nowwaiting to sprout and grow.
It was at this lack-knowledge crisis that I volunteered to go to theBritish camp at Winnsborough in my old quality of spy; did this and hadmy leave and orders before Dick learned of it.
Left to my own devices, I fear I should have slipped away withouttelling Jennifer. But, as so many times before, fate intervened to driveme where I had not meant to go. On the morning set for my departure Iwoke to find a letter pinned to the ground beside me with an Indianscalping-knife thrust through it.
Dick was sitting by the newly-kindled fire, nursing his knees and mostpalpably waiting for me to wake and find my missive.
"What is it?" I asked, eying the ominous thing distrustfully.
"'Tis a letter, as you see. Uncanoola left it." Then, most surlily:"'Tis from Madge, and to you. There is your name on the back of it."
At this I must needs read the letter, with the lad looking on as if hewould eat me. 'Twas dated at Winnsborough, and was brief and to thepoint.
_Monsieur:
"When last we met you said the Church might undo what the Church had done. I have spoken to the good Pere Matthieu, and he has consented to write to the Holy Father at Rome. But it is necessary that he should have your declaration. Since the matter is of your own seeking, mayhap you can devise a way to communicate with Pere Matthieu, who is at present with us under our borrowed roof here."_
That was all, and it was signed only with her initial. I read it throughtwice and then again to gain time. For Dick was waiting.
"'Tis a mere formal matter of business," said I, when I could put himoff no longer.
"Business?" he queried, the red light of suspicion coming and going inhis eye. "What business can you have with Mistress Madge Stair, pray?"
"'Tis about--it touches the title to Appleby Hundred," said I,equivocating as clumsily as a schoolboy caught in a fault. "Of courseyou know that the confiscation act of the North Carolina Congressre-established my right and title to the estate?"
"No," said he; "you never told me." Then: "She writes you about this?"
"About a matter touching it, as I say."
"As you did not say," he growled; after which a silence came and satbetween us, I holding the open letter in my hand and he staring gloomilyat the back of it.
When the silence grew portentous I told him of my design to go a-spying.He looked me in the eye and his smile was not pleasant to see.
"You are lying most clumsily, Jack; or at best you are telling me buthalf the truth. You are going to see Mistress Margery."
"That is altogether as it may happen," I retorted, striving hard to keepdown the flame of insensate rivalry which his accusings always kindledin me.
"It is not. Winnsborough is neither London nor yet Philadelphia, thatyou may miss her in the crowd. And you do not mean to miss her."
"Well? And if I do chance to see her--what then?"
"Don't mad me, Jack. You should know by this what a fool she has made ofme."
"'Tis your own folly," I rejoined hotly. "You should blame neither thelady nor the man to whom she has given nothing save--"
"Save what?" he broke in savagely.
I recoiled on the brink as I had so many times before. The months ofwaiting for the death I craved had hardened me.
"Save a thing you would value lightly enough without her love. Let ushave done with this bickering; find the colonel and ask his leave to gowith me, if you like. Then you may do the love-making whilst I do thespying."
"No," said he; "not while you stand it upon such a leg as that."
I reached across and gripped his hand and wrung it. "Shall we never havethe better of these senseless vaporings?" I cried. "'Tis as you say; Ican neither live sane nor die mad without another sight of her, Dick,and that is the plain truth. And yet, mark me, this next seeing of herwill surely set a thing in train that will make her yours and not mine.Get your leave and come with me on your own terms. Mayhap she will showyou how little she cares for me, and how much she cares for you."
So this is how it came about that we two, garbed as decent planters andmounted upon the sleekest cobs the regiment afforded, took the road forWinnsborough together on a certain summer-fine morning in January in theyear of battles, seventeen hundred and eighty-one.
The Master of Appleby Page 46