The Courier of Caswell Hall (American tapestries)

by Dobson, Melanie

  Nothing would deter these mosquitoes, just as nothing would deter him from finding where the Continental Army had gone so he could deliver Lydia’s message. When he last left the army, soldiers were encamped in Connecticut, but in the tavern last night, he learned they were rumored to be along the shores of the Potomac River. He must deliver this message before they marched farther south.

  He was tired of tramping across the colonies with no knowledge of where he would spend the night. He couldn’t imagine going back to his job as a business manager, but he would never again take for granted the benefit of a full stomach and a feather bed. One day he would like to have a home of his own and a family to return to at night. Perhaps even a wife like Lydia Caswell.

  He never should have kissed Lydia in her garden three weeks past, even if it had only been on the cheek. It had been impulsive, and a man in his position couldn’t afford to be impulsive. Instead of clandestine meetings in the cornstalks, he wished he could return to her home in proper form and knock on the front door. If only she weren’t planning to marry Seth, he would wait until the end of this war and then ask her father for her hand in marriage.

  With a quick slap, he killed a mosquito on his neck.

  These long nights alone were clouding his heart and his mind. Once he was back among the officers and soldiers, surely his longing for Lydia would diminish.

  He unrolled his blanket and settled under a tree for the night. At first light, he would continue his search for the army. If they marched south and attacked the British now, they would surely be defeated. He must stop them until they were able to wait for more soldiers and ammunition. The supplies he had stashed at the Hammonds’ would help, but there weren’t enough to defeat the army that was accumulating in Virginia.

  After he built a small fire to ward off the mosquitoes, he pulled a linen cloth out of his haversack and ate a piece of salted beef and one of his hard biscuits.

  His stomach rumbled.

  When he found the army, the first thing he would request was fresh meat and some coffee. And perhaps he could purchase some fresh bread from one of the women.

  Trying to deter his thoughts from Lydia and his own hunger, he pulled out his prayer book and began to read how the Lord brought the Israelites out of Egypt: “But made his own people to go forth like sheep, and guided them in the wilderness like a flock. And he led them on safely, so that they feared not: but the sea overwhelmed their enemies.”

  Even when the Lord delivered His people, they disobeyed His laws and grumbled in the wilderness. Nathan prayed that when this was over—if they were victorious—they would not dishonor the God who had rescued them, as the Israelites had done.

  Leaves rustled behind him, and he took a stick and held it over the fire until it started to burn. He knew little about fighting men with anything except wit, but he could ward off a bear or a cougar.

  He stepped forward, facing the unknown with as much courage as he could muster. “Who’s there?”

  The shadow of a man stepped out, and Nathan held out his torch.

  “’Tis I, Master Nathan.”

  He squinted again. “Elisha?”

  “It is.”

  Nathan slowly lowered his knife. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve been watching out for you.”

  “You followed me all the way here?”

  Elisha sat on a log. “’Twasn’t easy.”

  “But I was on a wagon—”

  Elisha shrugged. “The wagon didn’t move very fast.”

  Nathan threw the stick into the fire. He was impressed by Elisha’s ability to track him, but he would have to be more careful. He hadn’t even an inkling that someone had been trailing him.

  Nathan nodded at the blaze. “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Nathan opened up the linen cloth. “I’ve got some lousy-tasting biscuits and a little pork fat left.”

  Elisha took what Nathan offered and ate quickly. “I could catch us some squirrel or perhaps a deer in the morning.”

  “My stomach would thank you.” An owl hooted in the tree above him. “I thought you had run off with the British.”

  Elisha shook his head, grief heavy in his voice. “I can’t join them. They took away my wife and son.”

  “But you cannot return to the Caswells, either.”

  “I must find Morah and Alden.”

  “You trust the Patriots?” Nathan asked.

  “I don’t believe I trust either army, sir. But I trust you.”

  The weight of his words settled on Nathan. “We would have to wait until after the war.”

  Elisha rubbed his hands together. “Hope can propel a man like me forward for a long time.”

  Nathan threw his stick into the fire. It was hope that kept him fighting for freedom. “Are you going to ask where I am going?”

  Elisha brushed a small pile of leaves together and lay down on them. “It don’t matter much to me.”

  Perhaps it didn’t matter because Elisha believed Nathan could keep him safe.

  Nathan wished he believed it as well.

  Lydia heard laughter coming out of the great hall and looked in to see if her sister was among the officers. She didn’t see Hannah or Major Reed, but several men swam like fish around her pianoforte, lifting their mugs and singing a song about the Yankees and their Italian finery.

  She wasn’t certain if she was more angered or saddened by their display. The officers were mocking brave men like Seth and Nathan, men who might not dress as finely as the British but who had courageous hearts and lives they were willing to sacrifice to free others from oppression.

  The smell of her father’s ale wafted into the hall. There couldn’t be much of his drink left in the basement.

  One of the officers motioned to her. “Come and join us.”

  She shook her head. “I am too tired.”

  Mother stepped up next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “They will leave soon,” she whispered.

  “Not until Father’s ale is gone.”

  Mother scanned the room. “Where is Hannah?”

  “I do not know.”

  One of the men held up his glass and shouted, “Long live King George!”

  Everyone lifted a cup.

  The keys from the pianoforte banged again, and one of the men set his glass on a pedestal. Another man knocked it off, but the crash was muffled by the music. The player paused and turned to look at the shards of glass on the floor. Then he continued playing and the others returned to their singing.

  They didn’t seem to care one bit what they destroyed.

  Mother clutched her hands together. “I lost track long ago of how many glasses they have broken.”

  “We will replace them,” Lydia said.

  “I am not certain that we will.”

  No matter how hard her parents tried to cling to the security of the past, nothing would be the same after this war, and Lydia feared the damage the major and his men inflicted on their family would last long after the war as well.

  “There’s Hannah,” Mother said, and Lydia turned to look.

  Her sister’s hand clutched the major’s arm, and she giggled as they strolled through the entry toward the great hall. Hannah would not make a good governor’s wife, at least not until she matured, but she would dote on this man as Lydia never could.

  As they drew closer to the hall, Hannah glanced over and flashed a victorious smile at Lydia.

  Major Reed didn’t seem to notice her at all.

  Continental guards found Nathan and Elisha before they found the Patriots’ encampment. The sun had just begun to rise as the three soldiers questioned Nathan and the man he brought into camp. Finally one of the men escorted them toward the general’s tent.

  As they walked, Nathan searched the rows of men cooking their salted pork over small fires and making ash cakes from the flour provided by the military. The aroma of coffee mixed with smoke, and Nathan wished he could have just o
ne cup. It would help him shake off the webs in his body and mind.

  But first he had to deliver Lydia’s letter to his uncle.

  The guards outside the tent recognized him immediately. They eyed Elisha, but neither of them made any effort to question him. They probably thought he was Nathan’s slave. What would they think if he told them that Elisha was his friend?

  General Washington stood with two officers from his elite General’s Guard, hovering over a portable writing desk. He was a tall man who demanded the respect of both colonists and the British with whom he came in contact. He wore the dark-blue wool uniform of the Continentals with scarlet facings and white stockings under his buckled shoes. His hair was powdered white and pulled back with a blue ribbon.

  Washington looked up. “Nathan—why are you here?”

  “Hello, General Washington.” He’d stopped calling him “Uncle George” when he started working as a courier and spy.

  The advisors simply nodded at Nathan. They tolerated him as General Washington’s nephew, but they thought he would be better used as an officer. His uncle, however, believed that as long as their network didn’t falter, the intelligence his spies gathered would win this war.

  Washington looked over at Elisha. “Who is your companion?”

  “A friend to whom I owe my life.”

  “You shall tell me about this later.”

  Nathan nodded and looked down at the map of Virginia spread out on the desk. Then he handed Lydia’s letter to the general. “I have news you must see.”

  A solution revealed what had been written in invisible ink, and General Washington slowly read the words.

  Lydia confirmed what other spies had been reporting: although the Americans believed they had enough soldiers with the French recruits to defeat Benedict Arnold’s troops, they did not have enough soldiers to defeat the troops led by Cornwallis. They needed to send for reinforcements before they engaged their enemy.

  General Washington looked up again. “Whoever wins the colony of Virginia may very well win this war.”

  “Aye,” Nathan said. “And there are too many British soldiers for us to fight right now.”

  “Too many soldiers,” another officer said, “and not enough food for our men.”

  While the Patriots had recovered tons of much-needed ammunition from the shipyard, there was very little food among the supplies. General Washington had mandated that his army would not plunder the colonists as their opponent did.

  “We have sent for supplies from our man in Philadelphia,” the officer said. “They will be delivered to a hiding place near the town called York, at the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay.”

  His uncle turned back to Nathan. “You must go to York to oversee the delivery of these supplies.”

  “But I have established an invaluable source near Williamsburg.” He hesitated. “This person can deliver information we need to recover Virginia.”

  “I shall send someone else to check for messages.” He paused. “Captain Hammond knows that area well.”

  Nathan cringed. “I fear he would be recognized.”

  General Washington considered his words before he spoke again. “Then you will go straight from York to Williamsburg.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Nathan searched the camp until he found Seth drinking coffee over a small fire while he and his men waited for direction. His friend was almost as tall as Washington, and he looked a lot like Sarah with his blond hair and light-green eyes. Nathan glanced down at his own ragged trousers and attire. Seth outranked him in multiple ways.

  He reached for Seth’s hand and shook it. “How are you?”

  Seth handed him a tin cup with coffee. “We have been worried about you,” he said. “Do you have news of home?”

  “Unfortunately, the news is not good.”

  Seth’s eyebrows furrowed. “What happened?”

  Nathan swallowed. “I regret to say that the British have burned down your house.”

  “What of my sister?” Seth begged.

  “She went to your aunt’s home in Philadelphia.”

  Seth swirled the coffee in his cup. Nathan couldn’t imagine all the emotions that must be warring inside him.

  “And our Negroes?”

  “Some were taken by the British, and others seem to have run away.”

  “’Tis to be expected, I suppose.” Seth looked off into the forest. “I hope those who ran, ran far.”

  Nathan sipped the coffee. “Aye.”

  “I am glad Sarah is safe.”

  Nathan waited for a moment, expecting Seth to ask about Lydia and her family, but he didn’t. And he couldn’t tell Seth or anyone else what Lydia was doing.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Nathan found a cave in the bluffs north of the town called York. Two soldiers guided him and Elisha to York—Privates Lemuel and Benjamin from the First Virginia Regiment—and the four of them quickly unpacked their haversacks and settled inside the cave to watch the bay for the supplies.

  It had taken them four days of walking to locate the town, and then they had to sneak by several camps of British soldiers as they hiked up the coast to find the place where the supplies were supposed to arrive by tonight. He prayed they hadn’t missed the boat. If they didn’t secure these supplies, they wouldn’t be able to fight well for Virginia.

  Another soldier—a young New Jersey man named Micah—remained closer to the water with a wagon and a team of horses he’d secured from a trusted family in York. They would quickly transfer the supplies from the schooner to the cave, and then Nathan would leave behind the three soldiers who’d escorted him, to guard the supplies until they were needed. It was his responsibility to return to his uncle with the news that the supplies were ready.

  Clouds covered the stars as Nathan listened to the rain patter on the dark waters in front of him. A man known as Porter was supposed to meet them before dawn, and then they would secure the ammunition and weapons. Once the troops had the supplies, they could march on the thousands of British troops gathering on the east side of the colony.

  He balled up his blanket and leaned his head against it. The thought haunted him of Lydia in that big house with all those men, many who had no good intent. The war for Virginia had become personal to him. Lydia’s heart might belong to Seth, but Nathan’s heart belonged to her. He might not be able to do anything about her heart, but he could help the Patriots rid the colony of the enemy. And the sooner the better.

  When the world righted itself, he would return to Caswell Hall to thank her for her courage. The soldiers fought hard for freedom, but it was women like Sarah and Lydia who would win this war for them.

  Elisha sat down beside him. “Are you thinking about her?”

  He glanced over with surprise. “About whom?”

  “Miss Lydia, of course. Neither of you can fool me.”

  Elisha’s words dawned slowly on him. “How is Lydia fooling you?”

  “Seth Hammond is a good man, but he ain’t good for her.”

  Nathan looked back at the water. “I would not be good for her either.”

  “Now, I don’t know about that. It seems to me you got a heart about as big as she does.”

  A light blinked on the bay waters.

  He elbowed Elisha. “Did you see that?”

  “I believe I did.”

  They watched it blink again in the rain and then two more times.

  It was the signal that the boat had arrived.

  “Wait here,” Nathan told Elisha and the two privates. He had to make sure it was safe before he put all their lives in jeopardy.

  He scrambled from the cave and hurried down to the shore. With the tide lapping against the rocks, he couldn’t hear the rhythm of oars or the sound of voices, but his eyes searched the darkness over the water.

  The light blinked thrice again, but this time it was much closer.

  “Who are you?” he whispered into the darkness.

  “A friend of the great king,” a
voice replied. “And I hope your friend as well.”

  “Aye,” Nathan said. “I am your friend.”

  Then he heard the sharp swish of oars cutting through the bay waters and saw an outline of a rowboat pressing toward the sandy shore.

  The man at the helm of the boat wore a tricorn hat dipped low over his forehead, and the moment his boat ran ashore, he stepped onto the sand.

  Nathan held his musket at his side. “What is your name?”

  “Porter.” The man spoke so low that his voice blended in with the lapping of water. “And you are?”

  “Nathan.”

  Porter responded with a sharp nod. “We have a delivery for your men.”

  Elisha guarded the cave while he, Lemuel, and Benjamin retrieved the supplies conveyed from the schooner by the rowboat. In the darkness, they helped five of Porter’s men unload barrels of ammunition, crates with muskets, and bags with flour and coffee. Micah drove the wagon full of supplies up the hill, ten yards from the cave, and the team of men transported the supplies up to Elisha in the hiding place.

  They worked in silence for hours, the rain making mud out of their tracks as they loaded the wagon and then unloaded the supplies by a dim light in one of the cave’s side chambers. They each knew that they had to be finished before dawn, when the British could see their ship close to the shore. It wouldn’t be long now before Porter and his men would have to leave, under the cover of darkness and rain. They couldn’t risk being caught at dawn—for the sake of their ship and the supplies.

  Nathan took a damp crate from Lemuel, and it rattled as he hauled it to the room at the back of the cave. Elisha had stuffed supplies high against the wall—there were barrels of flour and salted meat alongside crates that carried bottles of cherries and drink. He knew the supplies would dwindle quickly once the army reached York, but it seemed to him that there was enough food and ammunition for ten thousand men.

  Nathan stepped back toward the mouth of the cave, and he heard someone shout down by the water. He cringed at the break in their silence. He had to quiet the man before the British heard them. Their lives—and the colony of Virginia—were relying on their stealth.