CHAPTER XIX--HARRIET AT LAST
"Awake on your hills, on your islands awake, Brave sons of the mountain, the frith, and the lake. Be the brand of each chieftain like Fin's in his ire. May the blood through his veins flow like currents of fire. Burst the base foreign yoke as your sires did of yore, Or die like your sires, and endure it no more."
--"Battle Song," Scott.
With the courage born of the desperateness of the situation the citizensof Williamsburg set about repairing the devastation wrought by theinvader. Wrecked homes and desolated families followed fast in the wakeof the British army. From field and hills the militia assembled to repeltheir approach, leaving the crops to the care of the men too old forservice, the women who bravely shouldered tasks too heavy for delicateframes, and the few negroes who remained faithful to their owners.Patiently demolished gardens were replanted, poultry yards restocked,depleted larders replenished in order that want, stark and gaunt, mightnot be added to other foes.
And the sunny days of April became the brighter ones of May, and theforests about the city blossomed into riotous greens, starred by thewhite of dogwood, or the purplish-pink mist of the Judas-tree. Themulberries and sycamores were haunts of song. Out of the cerulean skythe sun shone brilliantly upon the leaf-strewn earth. All Naturerejoiced, and sent forth a profusion of bloom and verdure as though tocompensate the land for the bloody war waged throughout its length andbreadth. For that great game, whose moves and counter-moves were toterminate so soon in the cul-de-sac of Yorktown, had begun. From theseacoast where Greene had sent him Cornwallis, recovered at last fromthe dearly bought victory of Guilford Court House, was moving rapidlyacross North Carolina for a junction with the forces in Virginia. Therewas no longer a doubt but that the subjugation of the state was the aimof the British.
An empty treasury, a scarcity of arms, a formidable combination tooppose in the West, a continual demand upon her resources to answer forthe army in the North, with all these contingencies to face Virginia hadnow to prepare to meet this new foe advancing from the South.
Late one afternoon in the latter part of May Peggy and her cousin sat inthe palace grounds under the shade of a large oak tree. The girl hadbeen reading aloud, but now the book lay closed upon the grass besideher, and she sat regarding the youth who lay sprawled full length uponthe grass.
"And so thee is going back to the army?" she asked. "Is thee sure thatthee is strong enough?"
"Yes; I tire of inaction. I told General Phillips when he passed throughtwo weeks ago on his way to Petersburg that I would join him when thecombined army reached Richmond. I would have gone with him then but thatI hoped Harriet might still come here. I do not understand why I havenot heard from her, if she is, as you say, in New York."
"I wish thee could hear, my cousin," said Peggy patiently. "I would thatthee might hear from her for my own sake as well as thine. It vexes mefor thee to doubt my word, and thee will never believe that I havespoken truth until thee hears from her."
"But consider," he said. "It hath been more than a month since you came.When you first came you said that she was in New York. If so, why hathshe not written? Ships pass to and from there with supplies and messagesfor the forces here. 'Twould have been easy to hear."
"I am sorry that I cannot relieve thy uneasiness," Peggy made answer."It is not in my power to do so, Clifford."
"I am uneasy," he admitted, sitting upright. "Sometimes I am minded toset forth to see what hath become of her."
Peggy looked at him with quick eagerness.
"Why not?" she asked. "My cousin, why should we two not go toPhiladelphia? Then thee could go on from there to New York to thysister. Why not, Clifford? My mother----" Her voice broke.
"You want to go home?" he asserted.
"Yes; oh, yes!" she answered yearningly. "Thee is well now. There isnaught to do but to amuse thee by reading or by conversation. The troopsare now all on the south side of the James River with thy general, LordCornwallis. 'Twould be a most excellent time, Clifford, for a starttoward Philadelphia. We would have none but our own soldiers to meet."
"'Our own soldiers' mean my foes, Mistress Peggy," he rejoined with ahalf smile. "You forget that I am an Englishman. We would never reachyour home were we to start. I am not going to risk my new-found freedomby venturing among the rebels."
"But I am a patriot, and thou art a Britisher, as thou say'st. Why notdepend upon me when we are among the Americans, and upon thee when withthy forces?" asked the maiden ingenuously.
The lad laughed.
"Nay," he returned. "We should need a flag that would show that we werenon-combatants. No; 'twill not do. I shall go back to the army, andyou----"
"Yes?" she questioned. "And I, my cousin? What shall I do? Twice alreadyin the past month thy army hath visited this city. How often it willcome from now on none can tell. All tide-water Virginia seems swept bythem as by a pestilence. Get me a flag and let me pass to my home."
"'Tis not to be thought of for a moment," he answered quickly. "I willnot even consider the thing. I have deliberated the matter, and, as Ifeel to some extent responsible for your well-being, I have finallydecided what were best to be done. Know then, Mistress Peggy, that Ishall in a few days conduct you to Portsmouth, where the frigate 'Iris'lies preparing to return to New York. I shall send you on her to thatport."
Peggy was too astonished for a moment to speak. The youth spoke with thequiet assurance of one who expects no opposition to his decision. Thegirl chafed under his manner.
"Thee takes my submission to thy authority too much for granted, CousinClifford," she remarked presently, and her voice trembled slightly. "Iam not going to New York. I spent a year there among the British, and'tis an experience that I do not care to repeat. Thee does not choose tobe a prisoner, my cousin; neither do I."
"If you were ever a prisoner there I know naught concerning it," heanswered. "Surely if Harriet is there, as you would have me believe,'tis the place for you. If you are the friends you seem to be what wouldbe more natural than for you to go to her, since to return to your ownhome is out of the question? The vessel sails the first of June. I shallput you on her. There is naught else to do."
"I go not to New York," was all the girl said. She had not told Cliffordany of the unpleasant incidents connected with his father, or sister.She had been taught to speak only good, forgetting the evil. Now,however, she wondered if it would not have been better to haveenlightened him concerning some of the events.
"We will not discuss the matter further for the present," he saidstiffly. "I know best what to do in the matter, and you will have toabide by it. I see naught else for you to do."
Peggy's experience with boy cousins had been limited to this one, so shewas ignorant of the fact that they often arrogate to themselves as aright the privilege of ordering their girl relatives' affairs. She didnot know that these same masculine relatives often assumed moreauthority than father and brother rolled into one. She was ignorant ofthese things and so sat, a wave of indignant protest surging to herlips. Fearing to give utterance to the feeling that overwhelmed her sherose abruptly, and left the grounds.
"I will walk as far as the college and back," she concluded. "I must beby myself to think this over. What shall be done? Go to New York I willnot. And how determinedly my cousin speaks! Doth he think that I have nospirit that I will submit to him?"
And so musing she walked slowly down Palace Street, under the shade ofthe double row of catalpa trees which cast cooling shadows over thenarrow green. At length just as she turned to enter Duke of GloucesterStreet there came the sound of bugles. This was followed by the noise ofcountless hoof beats; then came the sharp tones of military command: alldenoting the approach of a body of mounted men.
The people began running hither and thither, and soon the street was sofilled with them that Peggy could not see what was coming. As quickly aspossible she made her way to the steps of the Capitol, and as
cended itssteps that she might have a good view of the approaching force. From theYorktown road another detachment of British filed into town. Thecitizens of the little city viewed their entrance with feelings in whichalarm predominated. What could they want in Williamsburg, they askedthemselves. Had they not been stripped of almost everything in the shapeof food that they should be compelled to support a third visit from theenemy? A flutter of skirts in the rear division of the cavalry drewattention to the fact that a girl rode among them and, surprised by thisunusual incident, Peggy leaned forward for a keener glance.
A cry of amazement broke from her lips as the girl drew near. For themaiden was Harriet Owen on her horse, Fleetwood.
Harriet herself, blooming and beautiful! Harriet, in joseph of green,with a gay plume of the same color nodding from her hat, smiling anddebonair, as though riding in the midst of cavalry were the mostenjoyable thing in the world. Peggy rubbed her eyes, and looked again.No; she was not dreaming. She saw aright. The vision on horseback was invery truth her cousin Harriet. With a little cry Peggy ran down thesteps, and pushed her way through the gaping crowd.
"Harriet," she called.
Harriet Owen turned, saw her, then drew rein and spoke to the officerwho rode by her side. He smiled, saluted her courteously as shedismounted lightly, and gave Fleetwood's bridle into the hand of anorderly. Quickly the English girl advanced to her cousin's side.
"Well, Peggy?" she said smilingly.