My Lady of Doubt

by Randall Parrish

  CHAPTER III

  THE FETE OF THE AFTERNOON

  I confess that up to this time I had experienced little interest in theaffair. After Valley Forge it was hard for an American soldier to admiresuch boy's play, or to enter into the spirit of British fun making.Besides the danger of my position, the fear of some slip of tonguebetraying me, the knowledge that I was in the very heart of the enemy'scamp, with grim, stern duties to perform and a return journey toaccomplish, kept me nerved to a point where I thought of little else thanmy task. But now I dared not remain indifferent, and, indeed, theenthusiasm of my companions became contagious, and I joined with themeagerly, as they hurried forth to the best point of view. Once there thesight revealed aroused me to an enthusiasm scarcely less than that ofthose crowding about. Few, indeed, have ever witnessed so gorgeous aspectacle as that river presented, and I have found many since who havequestioned my description. Yet I write down here only what I saw with myown eyes, little understanding at the time its importance to my futurelife.

  Well out in the stream lay the vessels of war--the _Fanny_, _Roebuck_,and _Vigilant_--together with a long line of transports, stretching asfar as the eye could see, flags flying, and decks crowded withspectators. At the fore-mast head of the _Roebuck_ fluttered theAdmiral's flag, and the shoreline was jammed with soldiery, the varieduniforms a maze of colors. The pageant came down with the tide, moving inthree divisions to the inspiring music of several bands, the oars ofgalleys and barges keeping exact intervals. These were decked out withall manner of colors and streamers, and above fluttered the divisionflag. As they passed us, the officers beside me named the variousoccupants, but I recall now only the first and last, because of myinterest in those aboard. In the leading galley were Sir William, LordHowe, Sir Henry Clinton, the officers of their suites, and some ladies.Lord Howe was facing the other way, but I noticed that Clinton was shortand fat, with a full face and prominent nose. In the last of the boatsstood General Knyphausen, the Hessian commander, very much of a German inappearance, not tall, but slender and straight. Between these wereflat-boats, covered with green cloth, loaded with ladies and gentlemen,or else containing bands. Six barges, darting here and there, kept openspace amid the swarms of small boats. Everywhere the eye swept over ariot of color, and the ear caught a babel of sound. As the last bargeglided by, the man next me growled in disgust:

  "Those are lucky dogs off duty to-day." His eye caught mine. "Why don'tyou go after them, Fortesque? There will be plenty of fun afoot yonderwhere they land."

  "Where is that?"

  "At the old fort; follow the crowd, and you'll not go astray. Have you aticket?"

  "Captain Andre honored me with one this morning."

  "Then you are good for the first row. Don't miss it, man," withenthusiasm. "'T will be such a sight as has not been witnessed since theField of the Cloth of Gold."

  "A passage at arms, you mean?"

  "Ay! as gorgeous as those of the old-time knights; a fair conceit as Iread the programme. I'd be there now but for the damned orders that holdme here. If you ride hard you can make the spot before they come ashore."

  There was no reason I should not go, and much in the glittering prospectappealed to me. Five minutes later I was trotting out of the Yager camp,pressing passage through the crowds, already headed southward, thedragoon riding silently at my heels. Mounted men that day were few, and,doubtless believing we were connected with the pageant, the jam sullenlyparted, and gave us opening, so we reached the site of the old fort asthe barges began discharging their occupants. A glance about, however,convinced me as to where the lists were to be run, and I headed my horsein that direction, anxious to gain some point of vantage, before thethrong poured in. Yet, Heaven knows, there were enough present even then,the green sward overrun, and the few stands crowded. Quite a considerablespace, leading back from the river landing, had been roped off, and LightDragoons rode along the lines to keep out invaders; others guarded themain platform until the more distinguished guests were seated. FewPhiladelphia residents were present, although I saw some black coats, thecrowd being mostly composed of soldiers bent upon frolic. In the occupiedstands, however, were loyalists in plenty, with a considerable sprinklingof ladies, gaily attired. I saw all this while striving to spur my horseforward toward where a band played "God save the King," but should havefailed to make it, had not Major O'Hara caught glimpse of my face abovethe press. A moment he stared at me in perplexity, and then with a dab ofhis spur forced the black horse he rode against the ropes.

  "Damn me if I knew you, Fortesque," he exclaimed cordially. "But come onthrough; there's a gate yonder. Fall back now, lads, and let the officerpass. That's it; ride 'em down if they won't make way. Here's a spotwhere you can see the whole field from the saddle."

  I was somewhat to the right of the big stand, the restive heels of myhorse keeping the crowd away, and with a clear view as far as the riverbank. O'Hara was too busy to stop long, but I was not sorry, as there wassufficient occurring to rivet attention. It was, maybe, four hundredyards down a gentle slope to the water's edge, where the line wasforming. This passageway was lined with onlookers, held back by numerousguards, while to my left extended a square lawn, perhaps one hundred andfifty yards each way, surrounded by a double rank of grenadiers, thebayonets gleaming on their guns. This open space was equipped witheverything needed for the coming tourney, and on three sides were tiersof raised seats. I had barely observed all this when the guns of the_Roebuck_, echoed by those of the _Vigilant_, began to boom a salute, andthe head of the column of marchers began slowly mounting the slope. Allthe bands of the garrison were in front, followed by the managers, richlyattired, with badges of blue and white ribbon on their breasts. Behindthese appeared, in full dress uniform, gleaming with decorations andmedals, the three specially honored guests, the two generals and theadmiral, the others of the gay party following two by two in long,interesting procession. The costumes worn were as varied as those of amasquerade, representing all the changes since the days of chivalry. Thewhole line glowed with color, and gleamed with steel.

  Like some great serpent, glittering in the sun, this procession passedunder the triumphal arches, and disappeared as its members tookprescribed positions on the stands, or in the pavilions bordering thefield of contest. As thus arranged the grouping of colors was mostbrilliant. In the front of each pavilion were seven young ladies, attiredpicturesquely in Turkish costume, wearing in their turbans those favorswith which they meant to reward the knights contending in their honor.Behind these, and occupying all the upper seats, were the maidensrepresenting the two divisions of the day's sports--ladies of the BlendedRose, and ladies of the Burning Mountain. The first wore a white silk,called a polonaise, forming a flowing robe, open to the waist; the pinksash was six inches wide, and filled with spangles; the shoes andstockings were also spangled, and, above all, arose a toweringhead-dress, filled with a profusion of pearls and jewels; the veil wasspangled, and edged with silver lace. The ladies of the Burning Mountainwere similarly dressed, except that they wore white sashes, edged withblack, and all their trimmings were of that color. As the veils werethrown back, and I looked on the bright, animated faces, I thought I hadnever before seen such an array of beauty. From the crowd surging aroundI heard name after name mentioned, as famous Philadelphia belles werepointed out, not a few familiar to me, through remembrance of our ownformer occupancy of the city--Miss Craig, the Misses Chew, Miss Redmond,Miss Bond, the Misses Shippen, and others, all of loyalist families, yetcontent to play the game of hearts with both armies. Even as I gazed uponthat galaxy of beauty, half angry that Americans should take part in sucha spectacle of British triumph, the field was cleared for the lists, anda sound of trumpets came to us from a distance.

  Out into the opening rode the contending knights, attended by esquires onfoot, dressed in ancient habits of white and red silk, and mounted ongray horses. From the other direction appeared their opponents, in blackand orange, riding black steeds, while to the centre advan
ced the heraldloudly proclaiming the challenge. I knew not who they all were, but theymade a gallant show, and I overheard many a name spoken of soldiers metin battle--Lord Cathcart, Captain Andre, Major Tarlton, Captain Scott.Ay! and they fought well that day, those White and Black Knights on themimic field, first charging together, shivering their spears; the secondand third encounters discharging pistols; and in the fourth attackingwith swords in most gallant combat. At last the two chiefs--Lord Cathcartfor the Whites, and Captain Watson, of the Guards, for the Blacks--werealone contending furiously, when the marshal of the field rushed inbetween, and struck up their weapons, declaring the contest done, thehonor of each side proven. As the company broke up, flowing forward tothe great house beyond, the vast crowd of onlookers burst through theguard-lines, and, like a mighty torrent, swept over the field. It was awild, jubilant, yelling mass, so dense as to be irresistible, even thoseof us on horseback being pressed forward, helpless chips on the stream.

  I endeavored to press back, but my restive animal, startled by the dig ofthe spur, the yells, the waving of arms, refused to face the tumult, andwhirled madly about. For a moment I all but lost control, yet, even as heplunged rearing into the air, I saw before me the appealing face of awoman. How she chanced to be there alone, in the path of that mob, I knownot; where her escort had disappeared, and how she had become separatedfrom her party, has never been made clear. But this I saw, even as Istruggled with the hard-mouthed brute under me--a slender, girlish figureattired as a lady of the Blended Rose, a white, frightened face, armsoutstretched, and dark blue eyes beseeching help. Already the front ofthe mob was upon her, unable to swerve aside because of the thousandspushing behind. In another moment she would be underfoot, or hurled intothe air. Reckless of all else I dug in my spurs, yelling to the LightDragoon beside me, even as my horse leaped. I felt the crush of bodies,hands gripped my legs; soldiers were hurled right and left, cursing asthey fell. I must have hurt some, but had no thought except to reach herbefore it was too late. I was struck twice by missiles, yet burstthrough, my horse, by this time, frenzied with fear. I scarcely know whathappened, or how it was accomplished--only I had the reins gripped in myteeth, both my hands free. That instant I caught her; the next she was onmy arm, swung safely to the saddle, held to me with a grip of steel, theanimal dashing forward beneath his double burden into the open field.Then the Dragoon, riding madly, gripped the bit, and the affair was over,although we must have galloped a hundred yards before the trembling horsewas brought to a stand. Leaving him to the control of the soldier, Isprang to the ground, bearing the lady with me. We were behind one of thepavilions, facing the house, and she reeled as her feet touched theearth, so that I held her from falling. Then her lashes lifted, and thedark blue eyes looked into my face.

  "You must pardon my roughness," I apologized, "but there was no time forceremony."

  She smiled, a flood of color coming back into the clear cheeks, as shedrew slightly away.

  "I appreciate that, sir," frankly, shaking out her ruffled skirts, "andyou have made knighthood real."

  "Then," I ventured, "may I hope to receive the reward, fair lady?"

  She laughed, a little tremor of nervousness in the sound, but her eyesfull of challenge.

  "And what is that?"

  "Your name; the hope of better acquaintance."

  Her eyes swept my uniform questioningly.

  "You are not of the garrison?"

  "No; a courier just arrived from New York."

  "Yet an officer; surely then you will be present to-night?"

  "The privilege is mine; if sufficiently tempted I may attend."

  "Tempted! How, sir?"

  "By your pledging me a dance."

  She laughed again, one hand grasping the long silken skirt.

  "You ask much--my name, a better acquaintance, a dance--all this formerely saving me from a mob. You are not a modest knight, I fear. SupposeI refuse?"

  "Then am I soldier enough to come unasked, and win my welcome."

  "I thought as much," the long lashes opening up to me the depths of theblue eyes. "I promise nothing then, nor forbid. But there is CaptainGrant seeking me. If I do not speak of gratitude, it is nevertheless inmy heart, sir," she swept me a curtsey, to which I bowed hat in hand,"and now, _Au revoir_."

  I stood as she left me, staring while she crossed the lawn and joined adark-faced officer of Rangers. Once she glanced back over her shoulder,and then disappeared in the crowd of revellers.