by Lake, Deryn
“Oh for God’s sake,” said Rupert irritably.
Margaret turned to Joseph. “Dr. Warren, can’t you do something to calm them? Many of the men are armed. Any violence now will be a signal for battle.”
The doctor showed his steel. Stepping into the midst of the yelling crowd, he shouted, “Good people, be easy. They’re not going to hurt us. It’s merely a military band.”
But nobody listened and several people were shaping up for a fight.
Lord Rupert turned to him.
“Warren, are you armed?”
“I carry a pistol, yes.”
“Then fire it into the air, man. For heaven’s sake get them to pay heed to you.”
Reluctantly the doctor fished beneath his toga and drew out a gun which he proceeded to fire, pointing skywards. Several women screamed but the crowd grew quiet.
“Good citizens, be calm. There is no danger. I beg you to disperse and go to your homes in peace,” he yelled.
At this point there was a huge drumroll followed by a fanfare of fifes.
“I said it was a military band,” the doctor added wearily. “Please go away.”
Reluctantly they started to drift off. Dr. Warren gave a bow and began to follow the crowd but not before he had given Margaret a deep look. Her colour came up, she couldn’t help herself. Nothing could have been more obvious and he had done it in public too.
“Mrs. Gage, I insist on seeing you home,” said Lord Rupert.
“No, truly, I shall be quite all right.”
“Nonsense,” he answered briskly. “You have had a nasty shock.
Allow me.” And he offered her his arm and bowed to the doctor, dismissing him.
“Good day, Warren.”
“Good day Mrs. Gage, Lord Rupert.”
And with another bow they parted company.
Rupert crossed the street with some care, waiting for the regiment to march out of sight, and entered Province House, which was strangely quiet after the noise they had just been subjected to.
“Tom,” called Margaret, “you have a visitor.”
And she flung open the study door only to discover the Governor and Lord Percy bent over what looked like a somewhat crude map.
Much to her astonishment they folded it away immediately.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realise Hugh was here.”
The second-in-command gave her a glance from eyes from which spectacles had been rapidly removed.
“Mrs. Gage, how nice to see you.”
Margaret smiled. “Lord Rupert Germain is here.”
“Excellent. Take him into the withdrawing room. I shall be out in ten minutes.”
“Very well.”
Somewhat surprised, Margaret turned to her visitor. “If you would like to come with me, Lord Rupert.”
“Gladly, Ma’am.” He followed her into the salon and sat down in a chair opposite hers. “What did you think of Warren’s oration?” he continued.
“Politically biased but relatively good. What did you make of it?”
“I thought it was inciting the mob to violence.”
“Oh, surely not.”
“Oh, surely yes. I tell you, Madam, Warren is a very dangerous young man.”
And Lord Rupert shot her a look which made her go suddenly quiet.
Chapter Twenty-One
April 14th, 1775
It had come. The letter from London authorising Gage to start hostilities. It was dated January 27th, 1775, and arrived on April 14th of that year. It was carried by a cousin of Margaret’s named Oliver De Lancey. This red-faced, stout young man was a Yankee by birth but had been educated at Eton and had got himself a commission in the British army. Disembarking at Boston from HMS Nautilus, he had hurried to Province House bearing the sealed documents marked ‘Secret’. Puffing and even redder in the cheeks than usual, he had swept through the front door and demanded of Robin that he must see the Governor.
“I’ll find out if he can be disturbed, Sir.”
“Nonsense, man. It is imperative that I see him immediately.”
“Yas sir.”
Tom, hearing a noise in the hall, had sent Earl Percy out to discover what was going on. Clapping his eyes on the second-in-command, Captain De Lancey came to a smart salute.
“Sir.
“At ease. I don’t think I know your face.” Gingerly, Hugh placed a pair of spectacles on his nose. “No, I don’t. Who are you?”
“Captain Oliver De Lancey, Sir. Just disembarked from the Nautilus with secret instructions for the Governor.”
The Earl’s face transformed. “So they’ve come – at last. Come in, my dear Captain, come in.” And Hugh Percy waved him into the study and closed the door behind them. “Captain De Lancey from London,” he announced briefly.
Tom looked up, taking in the fact that De Lancey was a member of a British regiment, the 17th Light Dragoons, and was looking exceptionally business-like in his crested cavalry helmet, with the distinctive badge of a grinning death’s head rising over crossbones adorning it.
“My dear Captain, when did you arrive?”
“About an hour ago, Sir.”
“I see. Well, you must stay and take refreshment. But first of all let me see the documents.”
The Captain reached into his leather belt, undid a pocket and drew out sealed papers. These he handed to Thomas, giving a little bow.
The Governor paused, feeling the weight of destiny on his shoulders, putting off the moment when he would finally know the wish of the British government. The other two men were silent as if they sensed something of what he was feeling. Then Lord Percy said, “Best open them, Sir.”
Gage nodded and broke the seal, briefly scanning the contents. Then he picked up a pair of spectacles that were lying on the desk and read the papers through thoroughly.
“It’s war, gentlemen,” he said without looking up.
Captain De Lancey squared his shoulders and said, “Good.” But Hugh Percy turned away and wiped his glasses with his handkerchief, silently.
Gage continued to read, then finally, sighing, he put the letter down. “It’s from the Earl of Dartmouth,” he said.
“Saying?” prompted Hugh.
“That the rebels of Massachusetts are…” Gage picked the letter up and read, “…a rude rabble without plan, without concert, and without conduct.”
“How easy,” said the Earl, “for men over three thousand miles away to make pronouncements.”
“Easy indeed,” the Governor answered, and sighed once more. “None the less, they make themselves abundantly clear. In the name of the King we are required to arrest the leaders of the rebellion, disarm their followers, and impose order on the Province of Massachusetts by martial law if necessary.”
“I see,” said Hugh, and put his spectacles back on.
Captain De Lancey, meanwhile, had been standing rigid, waiting to see how his superiors were going to take the news. Now he moulded his rubicund features into an expression vaguely resembling sympathy.
“Not quite what you wanted to hear, Sir?” he ventured.
“Not quite,” Gage answered without cynicism. He turned to the young man, “Why don’t you go and seek your cousin? I believe she’s in. You must be so tired from travelling.” He could simply have said ‘Dismissed’ and had done with it but politeness, as was customary with him, ruled.
Captain De Lancey came smartly to the salute, “Thank you, Sir,” and turning on his heel, he marched from the room.
Gage shook his head. “Strange how the bearer of ill tidings comes in many guises.”
“Yes indeed. We have no option but to obey, I suppose?”
“Oh yes, we have the final choice. Listen to this.” He read from the letter once more. “It must be understood, however, after all I have said, that this is a matter for discretion.”
“How sickening,” exclaimed Hugh. “In other words, whatever happens, they can lay the blame on us.”
“On me, you
mean,” Tom replied drily.
“Yes, probably.”
There was silence for a few moments, then the Earl said briskly, “So what’s your plan, Sir?”
“How many of the revolutionaries are still in town?”
“Dr. Warren’s here but he’s sent his children and housekeeper away, and Paul Revere is around. Samuel Adams and John Hancock have left.”
“I see.” Tom paused, then said, “I suppose that it was inevitable that we march on them. They’ve been behaving insufferably.”
Percy nodded. “Indeed they have.”
“But…” said Tom, and the word was weighted, “…they may have an argument.”
“Argument or not, we have our orders and now it is up to us to carry them out.”
“Indeed, indeed,” said the Governor, and for the third time during that meeting, sighed.
*
Margaret had been on the point of going out for her walk when Robin came to her and breathlessly announced that Captain De Lancey awaited her pleasure in the withdrawing room. Surprised and pleased, she hurried in, arms outstretched.
“Cousin Oliver, how good to see you.”
“Margaret, my dear. You look radiant.”
And she did, lit by some inner fire, her luminous eyes alive with a secret she did not intend to share with anybody.
Oliver stood a moment, thinking that of all his cousins Margaret Gage was truly the most spectacular, still dressed to the inch despite all the shortages in Boston, more beautiful than ever now that she had become a mother several times. At that moment he fell a little in love with her and accordingly embraced her with enthusiasm.
“Tell me, how is England?” she asked, drawing him to sit beside her on the sofa.
“Tolerably fine, Madam. I called to see your children before I set sail, by the way.”
“Did you?” she asked breathlessly. “Oh, tell me how they are?”
“Fit as little fleas.” His face changed. “I was sorry to hear about young William though.”
Margaret’s entire demeanour suddenly changed. “The Governor…” She used the phrase quite unconsciously. “…wrote to England and both my brother and sister-in-law were with him when he died. There is some comfort in that.”
“Indeed there is. Now…” Oliver altered his voice to sound cheerful once more. “I come with many reinforcements for General Gage.”
“Really?”
“Yes, seven hundred marines, three regiments of foot and De Lancey’s dragoons – a company belonging to my father of course.”
“Those last have a fearsome reputation.”
“They certainly do, Ma’am. They are particularly effective in the suppression of civil disturbances.”
Margaret gave a small shudder. “I suppose that is what you would call this situation – a civil disturbance.”
“Yes, Ma’am, it certainly is.”
The door opened and Thomas stood there, looking partly excited and partly very weary. He crossed to the wine cooler.
“Would you like a drink, Captain De Lancey?”
“Yes please, Sir.”
“The only thing that is plentiful is rum – that’s because the Yankees drink it.”
“That would be fine, Your Excellency.”
Thomas nodded silently and poured Margaret’s cousin a neat shot and a brandy for himself.
“To success,” he said, raising his glass.
“To success,” echoed Oliver De Lancey.
*
As she left the house, accepted the salute of the guards and turned left down Marlborough Street, Margaret thought about that toast and wondered what its actual meaning might be. One reason suggested itself but was too horrible to contemplate.
Today the town was very crowded but she scarcely noticed the other pedestrians as she made her way along, heading for no particular reason towards the harbour, where, it seemed, there was great activity. The Nautilus, the ship which had brought her cousin into port, was moored up and troops were still disembarking. Knowing nothing of the secret documents or their great importance in determining the future of the Colonies, Margaret slowed her pace and stared.
At the back of her mind, as it always was when she went out alone, was the thought that she might meet Dr. Warren, accidentally of course. Today she would have something to tell him, that more troops had arrived to protect the colony. Sheltering in the doorway of the Fanueil Hall, staring down the length of the Long Wharf, Margaret felt herself grow cold with anticipation. And then there was an unexpected but so welcome touch on her elbow, and she turned to see Joseph, removing his hat and giving a small bow before her.
“Madam,” he said, and the smile that lit his face told her everything. “Oh, Joseph,” she said, inexplicably glad to see him, and she gave him a hasty kiss on the cheek.
He was embarrassed, that was certain, but also pleased. For he put his hand up, pulling off his glove and touched the place where her lips had rested momentarily.
“How are you faring, my dear?” she asked.
“The better now that I have seen you, Madam.” And he offered her his arm that they might walk together.
“You know that more troops have arrived?”
“Oh yes. I’ve been watching them most of the morning.”
“Oliver De Lancey is here with his father’s dragoons.”
Dr. Warren nodded and smiled but said nothing, then suddenly turned away and fiddled with something in his mouth. Margaret stared.
“What’s the matter?”
Joseph grinned carefully. “Truth to tell, Paul Revere has made me a couple of false teeth, carved them from ivory and fitted them on a silver wire.”
“Gracious. Why?”
Joseph smiled ruefully. “Vanity I guess.”
Margaret knew, as clearly as if he had told her that she was the reason why Joseph had decided to have them.
“Let me see,” she said now.
“There.” Joseph pointed to an eye tooth and the one beside it.
“How very clever. I wouldn’t have been able to tell.” She leaned closer, peering into Joseph’s mouth in a very intimate way. And it was at that moment that her eye was drawn to a figure standing quite close behind him and staring at her, wide-eyed.
“Damn that girl,” she muttered.
“What is it?” asked Joseph, and turned round.
Sara stood there, dropping her eyes as soon as she realised she had been observed. Margaret was just able to note that she wore a simple but good muslin gown, before Sara turned on her heel and started to walk away.
“Who was that?” Joseph said.
“A slave who once used to work in Province House.”
Jospeh nodded. “I see.” He tucked her arm through his once more and started to walk towards the Long Wharf. “Listen, I can’t stay long.
I have a patient to attend to. But, Mrs. Gage, I feel a sense of impending danger. I think the British are going to make a move against us.”
Margaret grew pale. “Oh don’t say those dread words. I simply could not bear it if my husband became the instrument of shedding Yankee blood.”
Joseph looked grim. “Do you mean that?”
“You know I do.”
“Then you haven’t forgotten your promise to help me should I ever need it?”
“Your signal will be a letter apparently written by Quincy the glove-maker. If –when – it arrives I am to expect you after dark. We will meet in the stables of Province House.”
“If I am not there by midnight then you are to retire to bed. You know I won’t be comng.”
Margaret turned to him. “Joseph, won’t it be a terrible betrayal of my husband if I do this thing?”
“Madam,” he answered her seriously, “it will be a choice between him and the country into which you were born. Certain matters transcend family loyalty.”
“Do you believe that?”
“Sincerely,” he said, and put his hand on his heart.
Looking back, Margaret could see tha
t Sara had vanished and she breathed a little more freely. None the less she had the feeling that this day she and the physician were being watched.
“I think I’d better go,” she said. “It seems there’s too much activity today.”
Dr. Warren reached beneath his greatcoat to look at his pocket watch and Margaret saw the gleam of pistol butts in his pocket.
“You’re armed,” she said.
“I have to be,” he answered unsmilingly. “I’m known as a dangerous man.”
“Joseph, be careful. Don’t let anything happen to you.”
“Why? Would it bother you?”
“You know it would.”
They had reached the beginning of the Long Wharf and the numbers of people out and about had started to lessen. Joseph leaned forward and did something he had never done before. He kissed her swiftly, full on the lips. Just for a second his mouth lingered on hers and then he withdrew it as quickly, bowed, and turning on his heel hurried off in the direction of the town. Margaret, staring as his figure grew distant, raised her hand to her mouth – just as he had done earlier to his cheek – then thoughtfully made her way home again.
*
“Christ Almighty!” exclaimed the Governor in a fury, “the bastards know what we’re up to.”
A letter had arrived that very afternoon, brought by a special mounted messenger, and yet again it was from Calico Joel so its authenticity could not be doubted. It said very simply, “…last Saturday the 7th of April P— R— toward evening arrived at Concord, carrying a letter that was said to be from Mr. W—n.”
“Telling him, no doubt, that we are going on stand-by.”
“But we weren’t then.”
“You must admit, Sir, that that was the day when Admiral Graves ordered every ship in the harbour to lower their longboats and have them at the ready.”
The Governor quite literally ground his teeth. “That idiot. I order him to do something, but can he be subtle? No. Blatant as you please he just does it, in full view of the passing populace. Small wonder they warned Concord where they’ve got so much stuff hidden.”
“Quite right,” said Hugh Percy sympathetically.