Fortunately, John Stoner’s finger marks on her throat were no longer visible so no further explanation was needed. The young ladies, enthralled by the danger Elisabeth had been in, and impressed by her brave resistance, chattered away how lucky she was the officer had not hurt her more grieviously.
“Was he good looking?” one of them asked. Elisabeth was shocked by the question. “I fail to see how that would make any difference,” she replied icily. “The answer, however, is no.” She saw John Stoner’s face before her. “He was pock-marked, with bad teeth and had a dissipated look to him.” The description of her assailant was accurate.
There was a knock on the door, the manservant announced the arrival of Peggy Chew and Elisabeth had to tell the story all over again. This was followed by tea and petite cookies, and as Elisabeth had hoped, the conversation turned from her to matters more urgent to the young ladies.
“Do you think there will still be balls, concerts and plays now that the Council is in authority?” one of the girls asked, her anxiety evident in her tone.
“If it is to be their decision to make, I would say most assuredly not,” Peggy Shippen responded. “However, there are many handsome young officers who will come to the city and surely some will organize dances.”
“Let us hope the Whig women have no influence on them,” one of her sisters added. “They are so drab in their homespun clothes. And their shoes. Have you ever seen such crudely made footwear? One can barely walk in them, let alone dance.” 3
“I do not recall these patriotic officers as being as cultured as our recently departed British friends,” one said wistfully.
“Major Andre cut a silhouette of me before he departed,” Peggy Chew revealed.
“Show us, show us,” they demanded in unison.
Slowly, basking in their attention, she opened her beaded bag and withdrew a small book. Inside, protected by the stiff cover, framed by a white rectangle, was a black cut-out of her profile. 4
“That is exquisite. It is such a good likeness.”
“Yes,” Peggy Chew said. “I doubt we will find amongst the patriotic officers, ones who can draw, paint, sing and write verse, as did Major Andre.”
Elisabeth could constrain herself no longer. “I myself am betrothed to a brave patriotic officer,” she blurted out. “I care not a whit whether he paints or sings. In every fiber of his being he believes in our cause. That counts far more toward achieving our independence than rhyming verses.” She felt her face flush with anger but did not care.
Peggy Shippen broke the silence that followed Elisabeth’s outburst.
“Betrothed? To your strikingly good looking Lieutenant? The one with the magnificent horse? Why that is wonderful news.” She smiled at Elisabeth. “Perhaps when he comes to Philadelphia you will invite us all to your wedding ball, that is if you hold one. And you can show your Lieutenant some of the latest dances you performed with Captain Montresor.”
Elisabeth heard the condescending tone and noted the barbed assumption that without the means herself, nor her family present, there would be no ball. Peggy had even remembered that Will could not dance and implied she was unfaithful to her betrothed by being escorted by John Montresor. She had been spying for the Americans, she wanted to shout. She let it all pass.
“I sincerely hope that Lieutenant Stoner and General Knox’s regiment will soon arrive in Philadelphia and all of you will find suitable beaus amongst his fellow officers,” she responded quietly.
The clatter of iron-rimmed wheels on the cobblestones halted their conversation and drew them to the window. A military carriage stopped outside the Shippen residence, two aides jumped out and assisted an officer to alight.
“Why that is General Arnold,” Peggy Chew said. “He must be calling on your father.”
Elisabeth thought it peculiar that Edward Shippen, who, for the past eight months had regally entertained General Howe and his senior officers at dinners in this very home, was now receiving the military commander of the city. Unseen, the young ladies watched Arnold hobble past the gate and up the entrance steps before disappearing from their sight.
“He was wounded at the Battle of Saratoga,” Peggy Shippen said authoritatively.
“A glorious victory for our side, resulting in the surrender of an entire British army,” Elisabeth added, unable to resist the opportunity to poke back at the obvious preference of the young ladies for their recently departed gallants who had evacuated the city.
Toward the end of the tea, a servant knocked and stated that Judge Shippen would like to present his daughters and the other young women to General Arnold. They flocked into the downstairs parlor chattering and preening themselves as they went, fully aware of their collective charms.
Elisabeth was the last to enter the room. General Arnold sat in a large upholstered wing chair, his bad left leg propped up on a stool, his crutch leaning next to him at the ready. He was flanked by two uniformed officers. When the young ladies entered, Arnold grabbed the crutch and, unaided, gallantly rose to his feet.
“Not even my wound should preclude my duty to stand in the company of such abundance of beauty.” His grey eyes twinkled with pleasure and Elisabeth noted that even the hobbling gesture of arising was performed with an athletic grace. The gold epaulets on his shoulders emphasized his solid build. He was of medium height with a few thin strands of gray mixed with his long black hair, all drawn tightly back and neatly tied with a dark blue ribbon well below his neck. Elisabeth concluded the most striking feature about him was his aquiline nose, long, narrow and well-formed above a slightly downturned mouth and square chin. He was definitely a handsome man, she thought, and well aware of the impression he made and the authority he exuded.
When Judge Shippen introduced each of his daughters, Elisabeth noted that, while the General was solicitous of all, he seemed most attracted to Peggy, bowing the deepest when he kissed her hand. She was so petite and doll-like next to his robust figure, it seemed he might almost lift her up on a pedestal to admire her better.
When it was Elisabeth’s turn, Arnold looked at her with a piercing gaze, unabashedly staring at her bruised temple and cheek.
“Whoever dared to attempt to damage such beauty not only failed but is to be despised by all men of honor. Tell me, Miss Elisabeth, the name of this dastardly person. I will have it published for all of Philadelphia to know. Just approbation shall rain down on his dishonorable head and gallant patriotic officers will compete for the honor of challenging this scalawag to a duel.”
Elisabeth was afraid she would not succeed in successfully lying, so strong and intense was his scrutiny. Fortunately, Peggy Shippen diverted the General’s attention by retelling Elisabeth’s story with some embellishment as to her struggle with the British officer.
“I wish all of my soldiers had the courage of this young lady in standing up to the British,” he said to his two aides, who nodded appreciatively. “So this anonymous miscreant absconds with his loot and the rest of the Redcoats. Well, I will not be satisfied until he, and all of his hated compatriots, have been driven from our shores.” Elisabeth curtsied slightly in acknowledgement.
“Please, sir. I am anxious for news of my fiancé, a Lieutenant in General Knox’s artillery.”
“Ah, Henry Knox. A fine man, a very capable commander and one who I am privileged to call my friend. I left him at Valley Forge not a week ago.” Arnold leaned slightly against the wing chair, his left foot barely touching the wooden floor. “He and our army are pursuing the British as they flee for their lives to New York harbor. If Providence wills it, we will catch them and prevail.”
“Thank you, sir, for this information,” Elisabeth replied curtseying again.
“I promise you, once I receive dispatches informing me of the outcome of our pursuit, I will, with your permission sir,” he nodded toward Judge Shippen, “communicate to Miss Peggy Shippen who will so inform you.” He turned to Peggy and took her hand in his again. “Only of course if you consent t
o be my messenger, and I can assure you, I have never had, nor ever will have a more beautiful one.”
Elisabeth was surprised to see her friend, the sophisticated socially experienced attendee of plays, concerts, and balls, not to mention the recent Mischienza, blush in accepting the compliment. “It would be an honor, General, to serve you in any capacity.” Arnold chuckled and Elisabeth caught a quick mischievous glance between Peggy and him, before her friend lowered her eyes.
The following Sunday, the Lewises returned late in the afternoon from the Quaker Meeting House in a somber mood.
“They are only rumors, my dear,” Edward said, settling his tall lanky frame uncomfortably in the wood-backed chair in the kitchen. Mary busied herself cutting vegetables intended for the pot hanging in the fireplace. It was clear to Elisabeth they had been in heated discussion on their walk home.
“Rumors with a kernel of truth,” she replied, “in keeping with the mean- spirited character of the men of the Executive Council.”
“What have you heard at the Meeting House?” Elisabeth asked, disturbed by their conversation.
“Nothing of substance to worry about,” Edward said. His expression suggested that he hoped his wife would acquiesce in his desire to end the conversation. Mary was having none of it.
“A clerk to the Council reportedly has bragged that there will be up to one hundred arrests of Loyalists who offered substantial assistance to the British army.”
“Yes, Mary, that is what we heard. But look at the source. A simple clerk, impressed with his own self-importance and fortified by alcohol. It is an exaggeration,” he waved his hand as if shooing a fly in front of him. “Indeed, if the Council is seeking revenge they will pursue the rich among us, since the prosecutor receives a fee based on the value of the Loyalist property that is confiscated.”
“Do not think for a moment, dear husband, that we will avoid the attention of the prosecutor’s office. He will be spurred on by personal greed and the animosity members of the Council harbor toward we Quakers for our professed neutrality.” She threw the vegetables into the pot and pointed her cutting knife at Edward. “I do not intend to meekly await their miscarriage of justice and be thrown out of our home and lose the businesses you have grown and I protected while you were imprisoned.”
“What can you do, Mary? You are only a woman and a Quaker as well.”
“I was a Quaker woman when I journeyed to Valley Forge, met with General Washington and his wife, and pled the case for release of you and our friends,” she snapped. “In those same capacities, I will persevere against this Council and its prosecutor.”
“I am again invited for tea at the Shippen’s this coming Tuesday,” Elisabeth said. “Perhaps, I may learn more of the rumors you have heard.”
“That would be helpful,” Edward murmured, deeming the conversation over.
After saying grace they ate their simple dinner of vegetable soup, salted shad, bread and cheese. The talk remained melancholy and turned to the sad situation of Mrs. Galloway, a Quaker and wife of the former Superintendent.
“I understand her husband leaving with the British, but to take her only child with him is more than a mother can bear,” Mary said. “They will seize her property even though she brought her inheritance to the marriage and it is rightfully hers.” 5
“So you say, Mary but upon marriage her property became her husband’s and it is as his they will confiscate it.”
“What do you think, Elisabeth? If you inherited great wealth from your father, is it right it should by marriage be under Will’s control? To dissipate, gamble away, or do with as he may with nary a contrary word from you?”
“Knowing Elisabeth and Will, you paint an unreal portrait of them as husband and wife,” Edward said smiling.
“I have received nary a letter from Will for many weeks. The thought of how we will decide to manage property I have not yet inherited, with a man who is not yet my husband, seems particularly strange. However,” she went on, “as well as I know him, I do believe we will be much like you, sharing opinions and decisions, though the law does not recognize a woman’s right to the property she brings to the marriage. It should but does not.” She looked at Mary and then directed her remarks to Edward seated at the head of the small wooden table.
“You are both dear friends, not only to me but also to Will. I assure you, he and I will do everything in our power to defend you from any injustice attempted by vindictive authorities.” Edward raised his eyebrows questioningly. “Do not ask how. Just know there are those in power who will listen to us.”
“I appreciate your sentiments, but the power is with the Almighty and it is in Him we must place our trust,” Edward said and it was clear the matter was finally closed.
Elisabeth’s bruises were barely discernible when she left the Lewis home for tea that Tuesday. She was no longer self-conscious walking in the street and since the young ladies invited to the Shippens had already seen her near her worst, she entered the sitting room without any trepidation. She gathered she was the last invited guest to arrive. It was immediately clear to her that Peggy Shippen was bursting to tell everyone something but was waiting until all were present.
“Father invited General Arnold to dinner, not once but twice. Imagine, the “Eagle of Saratoga” in our home. And I sat across from him on both occasions. Of course he must sit at a corner of the table in order to prop up his wounded leg,” she added with offhand familiarity. As tea was served, she regaled the young ladies with a description of how noble he looked in his general’s uniform, how gallant and courtly he was, how nonchalantly he had described his friendship with General Washington, the carriage ride with Mrs. Lucy Knox from Connecticut to Valley Forge, how he admitted his French was only passable but enough to engage in discourse with the Marquis de Lafayette.
“He is so modest in demeanor it only serves to complement his character as a gentleman,” she added, unaware of the irony of her statement. “Why, when father asked him about his role in our army’s victory at Saratoga, he spoke first of his men’s bravery before recounting charging on his horse toward the British and being wounded. The aftermath was horrible. He was terribly injured and in great pain. Although bleeding profusely, he had to use all of his strength to persuade the surgeons not to amputate his leg.”
“Will he walk again?” one of the young women asked.
“He hopes to do so with a cane in a month’s time, and to wear a special shoe on his left leg. The bone was set so badly, it is now two inches shorter than his right, the poor man.” Peggy’s face reflected wistful sympathy.
“You seem smitten with him,” Peggy Chew observed. “Attending balls with him may not be as gay an affair, given his shorter leg.”
“I am not smitten. We are becoming acquainted. Only time will tell. For now, I know I am in the presence of a great man and would gladly sit out any number of dances to be the woman he chose to escort to a ball.” She patted her freshly coiffed hair and tucked a wisp back away from her temple. “Besides, good manners require that a lady only commit to two dances with a gentleman, so after sitting for two, I can dance the rest of the night away.” 6
Elisabeth sat listening to Peggy chatter on. Her friend, she thought, had definitely set her sights on General Arnold. Perhaps her friendship with Peggy may prove useful if the civil administration caused trouble for the Lewises.
“There are rumors the Council will seek to arrest known Loyalists, or those who aided the British and confiscate their property.”
“Oh, tish tosh,” Peggy Chew said dismissively. “ Really, Elisabeth. The ones they seek have left for New York and those of us who remained, like my father and Judge Shippen, merely entertained British officers as dinner guests. Surely, you must know it is all just idle talk, instigated by radical Whigs seeking to disrupt the order of things.”
“Yes, I suppose you are correct,” Elisabeth responded. She knew this was the reality after liberation. The rich and influential, the Shippens and th
e Chews, no matter how obvious their Loyalist preferences and what the Whigs deemed the scandalous fraternization of their daughters with British officers, had nothing to fear from the Council. It was the Lewises, already suspect as Quakers, and those without powerful friends, who were in danger.
Elisabeth hesitated to draw more attention to herself but was compelled by her anxiousness to know of Will’s whereabouts.
“Is there any news of our army?”
“Oh,” Peggy Shippen responded. “I have been so involved with the guest lists for the dinners father is arranging for General Arnold, I almost forgot. He received dispatches from General Washington,” she said importantly. “General Arnold, as he promised, asked me to convey to you the news. A few days ago our army engaged the British and drove them from the field, somewhere in New Jersey. He expects his friend General Knox and others to visit Philadelphia shortly.” She smiled sweetly at Elisabeth as if to say this General, who is infatuated with me, is so noble as to remember the minor matter of your Lieutenant.
Elisabeth had become accustomed to Peggy’s condescension. I tolerated it, she thought, because she was useful to my efforts to spy on the British, to invite me to balls where I could meet British officers and become close to Captain Montresor. I do not belong to their circle. They care not a whit for our cause, know nothing of the suffering of our soldiers and devote not a moment to helping the sick and injured in our hospitals.
She left the Shippen home mid-afternoon, both elated at the thought of General Knox arriving in the city with Will and filled with trepidation that the General would be the one to tell her terrible news about him. As she walked the familiar street to the Lewis’s home, she saw Mary standing on the front step looking out the door. She waved to Elisabeth, beckoning her to hurry.
Spies and Deserters Page 18