Valley Forge

by David Garland

  "There's no chance of that," Featherstone put in. "Skoyles will already have warned his friend to make himself scarce."

  "Then why should I even mention that he was there?" said Skoyles. "I came back to the city at a gallop to report his whereabouts."

  "You were not in any hurry when we arrested you."

  "My horse needed to be rested."

  "Why did you return to your lodging at all? If you had such important news, you should have come straight here with it."

  "I intended to do so, Major."

  "After you'd rested your horse?"

  "I'd only have been a relatively short walk away."

  "Nevertheless," said Howe suspiciously, "the major's point is a telling one. Speed was vital in this instance. What made you delay?"

  "Was it to give Proudfoot time to escape?" Featherstone pressed him.

  "Or did you have some other reason?"

  "Are you working in collusion with your friend?"

  "How did he come to be present at that attack in the first place?"

  "Did you tell him that it was imminent?" said Featherstone.

  "Have you known all along that Proudfoot was in Germantown?"

  Jamie Skoyles remained silent. He had run out of answers.

  Ezekiel Proudfoot had moved swiftly. Having warned the printer that redcoats would soon be searching the town, he gathered up his things and rode back to Valley Forge. The mood there was almost festive for once. A successful attack on a British camp had helped the beleaguered soldiers to forget their woes for a while. Proudfoot reported at once to General Washington, who was in his headquarters with Major Clark. Both men listened with disquiet to what they were told. They had lost yet another means of printing The Pennsylvania Patriot.

  Washington decided to confide something to the silversmith.

  "Jamie Skoyles is working for us?" said Proudfoot in amazement. "Why didn't he tell me that?"

  "Because you probably wouldn't have believed him," said Clark. "He wanted the news to come from us. Until today, I own, I had a few doubts about Captain Skoyles, but not any more. He's demonstrated that he's truly on our side."

  "You and Raphael Dyer would otherwise have been hanged," said Washington. "The captain saved your lives."

  "I'm well aware of that, General," said Proudfoot. "That's the second time I've had a noose lifted from around my neck, and I don't think the trick will work a third time somehow."

  "We'll keep you safe in Valley Forge for a while."

  "Thank you. But I still find it hard to believe that Jamie Skoyles has volunteered to help us. I know that he had sympathy with our aims, but he's a British officer with a remarkable record of service."

  "I sounded him out," said Washington, "and thought him sincere. Major Clark was less easily persuaded."

  "I felt that he had to be put on trial first," said Clark, "so I watched him carefully for weeks. The way he helped Ezekiel has convinced me that he's trustworthy."

  "We could not have found a better man."

  "I agree," said Proudfoot. "Jamie is a huge asset for us. The wonder is that you didn't tell me he was providing us with intelligence, Major."

  "How was I to know that the two of you were friends?" asked Clark. "In any case, my policy is simple. I prefer to keep my agents largely ignorant of each other's identities. That way, if they are caught, there's only a limited amount of information that can be wrung from them."

  "Major Clark believes in being cautious," noted Washington.

  "Then why does he visit Philadelphia so often?"

  "Sheer bravado."

  "Necessity," Clark corrected him. "Intelligence is being gathered every day. I like to be on the spot to be able to assess its value to us."

  "And how do you assess Jamie Skoyles's value?" said Proudfoot.

  "It's immense. We finally have someone inside the British army."

  "Yes," added Washington, "and we can only hope that he stays there. Captain Skoyles is playing with fire. If he slips up, the consequences will be disastrous for him."

  A whole day had passed since his arrest, and Elizabeth Rainham had still not been allowed to see him. For information about Skoyles, she had to rely, for the most part, on a succession of rumors that were coming out of headquarters. None of them was in any way reassuring. Captain Tillman tried to find out more detail, but Elizabeth had the impression that he was holding things back out of consideration for her feelings. At first, Lucy Tillman was very supportive, insisting that Skoyles was the victim of some dreadful mistake. When her friend's manner became more reserved, Elizabeth feared that she, too, was hiding something.

  Out of desperation, she elected to challenge Harry Featherstone. Elizabeth knew that he was involved in the arrest, and that he would be aware of any charges brought against Skoyles. When she found out where it was, she visited Featherstone's lodging.

  "Come in, come in," he said, shepherding her into his room. "This is an unexpected pleasure, Elizabeth."

  "It's not a social call."

  "What a pity!"

  "I need your help, Major."

  "Won't you at least sit down?"

  He offered to take her cloak and hat. After some hesitation, she agreed. While she sat down, he hung the items on a door peg. The room was large enough to contain a table, two chairs, and a sofa, as well as a wardrobe and a chest of drawers. What worried Elizabeth was the proximity of the bed in the corner. She was grateful that Featherstone did not try to sit beside her on the sofa. He selected one of the chairs. She blurted out her request at once.

  "Tell me what's happened to Jamie," she said.

  "He'll appear before a court-martial in a couple of days."

  "But he's done nothing wrong."

  "General Howe thinks otherwise."

  "On what possible grounds can he be charged?"

  "I'm not at liberty to divulge all of the details," said Featherstone, "but I can give you a general impression of what occurred—on one condition, that is."

  "Condition?"

  "That you don't interrupt me."

  "Very well," she conceded. "All I want is the truth."

  "Then you shall have it," he promised.

  Doing his best to conceal his deep hatred of Skoyles, he gave her an abbreviated version of the interrogation, the previous day, in General Howe's office. Elizabeth was increasingly distressed, unsure if she was hearing the full facts or only those detrimental to the prisoner. Of one thing, she was absolutely certain.

  "Jamie Skoyles is no spy!" she argued.

  "I found it difficult to believe myself."

  "He would never betray anyone."

  "He's been engaged in nothing but betrayal since he's been here," Featherstone told her. "General Howe asked him to court the enemy so that he could get behind the lines at Valley Forge. That's what he did, Elizabeth. He was there solely to betray the Continental Army. It now appears that he preferred to play false with us."

  "No, Major!"

  "The evidence against him is overwhelming."

  "I refuse to accept that he's guilty," she said loyally.

  "Then why will he not disclose the means by which he passed on information to the rebels?"

  "I'm sure that he has a perfectly good reason."

  "Yes," said Featherstone tartly. "It's to protect his friends. He claims that the people to whom he delivers his intelligence are quite unaware of what he gives them, and have absolutely no connection with the rebels. If that's the case, he has no need to conceal their identity." He leaned forward. "I don't suppose that he confided in you, did he?"

  "Jamie is very discreet. I never press him about army business."

  "So you have no idea where he delivers his correspondence?"

  "None at all."

  "I'm sorry to hear that," he said. "We've already exposed some of the lies he's told. Holding back information the way he does is merely another means of deception. Skoyles is not helping himself, Elizabeth."

  "Let me see him."

  "Tha
t decision is not mine to make."

  "Then speak up on my behalf to General Howe."

  "I can't guarantee that he'd listen to me."

  "But you'll be called as a witness at the court-martial."

  "It's my duty to appear," he said with a touch of pomposity. "Skoyles may have forgotten the meaning of that particular word, but I haven't. Duty is paramount."

  Elizabeth was disconcerted. Although he tried to suppress it, she could sense the delight he was taking in the whole affair. It was nauseating to see him gloat. What she really wanted to do was to walk out of the room in disgust, but she could not do that. The only way she could find out about the man she loved was to humor one whom she loathed. She kept her poise with difficulty.

  "What will happen at the court-martial?" she asked.

  "Captain Skoyles will be cross-examined, then certain witnesses will be called to give their testimony."

  "Will any of them speak in favor of Jamie?"

  "No, Elizabeth. This is not a regimental court-martial. There's nobody here from the 24th Foot who can attest that he's a man of good character."

  "You could," she challenged. He smirked. "No, that would be asking too much, wouldn't it? Jamie once rescued you from being shot by one of your own men. Anyone else would feel indebted to him."

  He jumped up. "Indebted—to a man who stole you away from me?"

  "You drove me away."

  "That's not how I remember it."

  "Well, that's what happened," she said forcefully. "No woman could be expected to put up with such atrocious behavior. A moment ago, you talked about the importance of duty. Jamie saved your life, Harry. Did you conceive it as part of your duty to thank him by trying to kill him during the battle at Bemis Heights?"

  "No," he replied unashamedly, "but I can now have the satisfaction of achieving the same end by legal means. Skoyles is a traitor. He should be condemned to death."

  "Not if he proves his innocence."

  "What chance is there of that?"

  "There's every chance—if he's given a fair hearing."

  "General Howe will grant him that," said Featherstone, "and he'll probe into every lie that Skoyles has told him. Our men were betrayed yesterday, Elizabeth, and lives were sacrificed as a result. Do not look for any mercy from our commander in chief."

  "Would I be permitted to speak up in Jamie's defense?"

  "Your testimony would not be considered relevant."

  "But I know what a decent and honorable man he is."

  "He's forfeited any claim to honor."

  "Is there nothing that could save him?"

  Featherstone gazed at her intently. He had once loved her enough to want to marry her. In his eyes, the fact that she had spurned him for another man only made her more desirable. A thought stirred in his brain. He would never get such an opportunity again. Elizabeth was close to despair. He was in a position to relieve her anxiety, and to exercise power over her at the same time. Of her own volition, she had come to his room. The bed was yards away.

  "There is one possibility," he said artlessly.

  "And what's that?"

  "I could speak to Brigadier General Malloby."

  "Why should you do that?"

  "Because he'll be sitting in judgement with General Howe and the others at the court-martial."

  "Do you know this brigadier general?"

  "Very well," said Featherstone. "He's my uncle. It's always a sensible idea for an officer to have at least one relation in the high command. I'm Uncle Arthur's favorite nephew."

  "How could that help Jamie?"

  "I could take my uncle aside beforehand, and tell him what a fine career Captain Skoyles has had in our regiment, and how highly General Burgoyne thought of him. Uncle Arthur is an old friend of Gentleman Johnny's," he confided, "so that will influence his view of the prisoner. I could also withdraw my accusation that Skoyles aided the escape that Ezekiel Proudfoot made from our camp in Skenesborough."

  "But it's a false accusation in the first place."

  "That's a matter of opinion."

  "Jamie did nothing at all to assist his friend's escape."

  "I'm prepared to make that very point, Elizabeth," he went on, "but not for his benefit. If Skoyles had turned to me, I'd not lift a finger to help him. Since the request comes from you, it's a different matter."

  "What do you mean?" she said, becoming unsettled.

  "In token of my admiration, I'm ready to do what I can."

  "And what would you expect in return?"

  "A sign of affection, that's all."

  When he glanced toward the bed, she gave a shudder. Elizabeth was horrified at what he was suggesting. Blushing deeply, she rose to her feet. He took her by the shoulders.

  "Let go of me, please."

  "Not until you give me your answer."

  "Let go of me, Harry!"

  He released her but continued to stand uncomfortably close. She could feel his breath on her face. She could see the lust dancing in his eyes. Elizabeth was so outraged that he should suggest such a foul notion that she not could find words to express her revulsion.

  "What's the matter?" he taunted her. "Don't you love him enough?"

  She slapped his face hard. Then, without even bothering to grab her hat and cloak, she fled in panic from the room.

  Though he was given the privilege of a cell on his own, Jamie Skoyles was very much aware of the other prisoners in the overcrowded jail. He could hear them coughing, spitting, arguing, and complaining about the lack of food or, in some cases, simply groaning in pain. Disease haunted the building. Its stink was in the air. During the night, a man had died of cholera and been dragged out of his cell. Skoyles was restless. He was locked up in the same jail as deserters, prisoners of war, common criminals, and disobedient redcoats who had transgressed once too often. He did not belong there.

  Yet he had brought it upon himself. He knew that. When he claimed that he had only seen Ezekiel Proudfoot once, he never imagined that his claim would ever be questioned. Instead, it had been revealed to be a downright lie. Major Harry Featherstone had been his nemesis. The one thing that Skoyles had not allowed for was the appearance of his old enemy from the 24th Foot. As a result, his life was in the balance. Until the court-martial, he was doomed to spend his time in a tiny cell with an armed guard on the other side of the bars at all times. Because he had shown his proficiency at escaping from custody, they were taking no chances with him. Skoyles was being carefully watched.

  The court-martial, he feared, would be a mere formality. While he had not betrayed his country, he was guilty of the lesser offense of helping an enemy, and that was enough to bring him down. Skoyles felt that he could have convinced Howe of his innocence, had Major Featherstone not already primed the general. No matter how eloquently he defended himself at the court-martial, Skoyles sensed that it would be in vain. The truth was painful. In saving Ezekiel Proudfoot, he had effectively signed his own death warrant.

  When he heard footsteps coming along the corridor, he thought at first that his guard was about to be exchanged. Then, incredibly, the face of Elizabeth Rainham appeared before him. Leaping up, he went over to welcome her, squeezing her hands through the bars. Skoyles looked at the guard who had accompanied her.

  "Is privacy too much to ask?" he said.

  "Yes, Captain," replied the man. "My orders are to remain with the lady. The visit will only last two minutes."

  "Do not waste a second of it by protesting," said Elizabeth as she saw him about to do so. "I'm here, Jamie. Make the most of it."

  "Major Featherstone swore that you'd not be allowed near me."

  "General Howe has the ultimate authority. On our behalf, Captain Tillman appealed to him, and he relented."

  "Thank him for me, Elizabeth."

  "I will. He and Lucy have been my only succor. But how are you?" she asked, looking with distaste around the cell. "Is this the best that they can provide for an officer?"

  "It will do."


  "How could they even dream that you'd commit treason?"

  "On my honor," he vowed, "I'm not guilty of the charge. But there's evidence of a sort against me and it may well bring me down."

  "Harry Featherstone is confident that it will."

  He was alarmed. "You've spoken to him?"

  "Nobody else would tell me what was going on."

  "Well, you'd be wrong to believe any account that he gave you. This is all his doing, Elizabeth—his opportunity for revenge."

  "He's evil."

  "Forget him."

  "How can I when he's helping to condemn you?"

  "It doesn't matter."

  "It does to me, Jamie."

  "No," he insisted, scratching the back of his neck. "If we have so little time together, I'd rather spend it in silence."

  "But there's so much to say."

  "It's too late, Elizabeth."

  When his hand touched hers again, she felt something being slipped into her palm and she realized why he had scratched his neck. Having extracted some notes, hidden in the collar of his shirt, he had passed them on to her. Words were pointless. With two guards standing behind her, she could not have a proper conversation with Skoyles. It was better simply to enjoy the feel of his hands and read the message in his eyes. The guard who had brought her was a stickler for punctuality.

  "Time's up, lady," he announced. "You must go."

  Pearsall Hughes was just about to close his bookshop for the day when he saw Major Clark coming toward him. The latter was dressed as a peddler and carried a pack on his back. Clark touched the brim of his hat deferentially.

  "Is the lady of the house in need of anything, sir?" he inquired.

  "Come inside and ask her, my friend."

  Clark stepped into the shop and Hughes locked the door behind him. They went to the back of the room so that they could not be seen from the street. Taking off his pack, Clark set it down on the floor.

  "It must be something important to bring you here," said Hughes.

  "It is, believe me." He took a letter from his pocket and gave it to the bookseller. "What do you make of this?"

  Hughes needed a little time to decipher the words. Clark did not hurry him. After a while, the bookseller looked up in surprise.