My Lady of Doubt | Page 4

the river bank, riding steadily southeast through the night, every
nerve alert. An hour's riding found me well beyond our outermost
pickets, yet, in fear that I might encounter some body of irregulars,
scouting the neutral ground, I held on to my passport until I perceived
the first flush of dawn in the east. Then, convinced of close proximity
to the British guard-lines, I tore the paper into fragments. Avoiding all
roads, and seeking every bit of concealment possible, it was already
sunrise before I plunged suddenly into a Hessian picket-post, the
distant smoke of the Philadelphia chimneys darkening the sky ahead.
Unable to speak German, my uniform won sufficient courtesy, so that I
was escorted back under guard to an outpost of the Queen's Rangers,
where I explained my presence and rank to a red-faced Captain in Tory
green, so insolent in manner as to be insulting, until I exhibited the
sealed despatch, and demanded to be escorted at once to Sir William
Howe. This brought results, and I entered the city under escort of a
dozen horsemen, their green coats faced with dingy white, cocked hats
flapping as they rode.
It was thus we came to Callowhill, and the encampment of British
grenadiers, an officer of the 55th Regiment volunteering to guide me to
Howe's quarters in High Street. He was a genial fellow, and pointed out
various places of interest, as we rode more slowly through the streets

close along the river-side, questioning me often upon affairs in New
York, to which I returned such vague answers as pleased me, paying
small heed to the truth. I had never known Philadelphia well, but now it
was so strange as to be peculiarly interesting, many of the houses
deserted, with doors and windows boarded; several of the churches
made over into barracks, or riding-schools; the market closed; the State
House filled with lounging officers; and the streets thronged, even at
this early hour, by a varied uniformed soldiery, speaking Cockney
English, the jargon of the counties, Scottish Gaelic, or guttural German,
as they elbowed their passage, the many scarlet jackets interspersed
with the blue of artillery and cavalry, the Hessian red and yellow, the
green of the rifle-corps, or the kilts of the Highlanders. Lancers and
Huzzars, Grenadiers, Light Dragoons and Queen's Rangers mixed, and
commingled, apparently enjoying holiday. There was scarcely a woman
to be seen; the few who did appear being of the lower sort. All along
the river were redoubts, well garrisoned, with black gun muzzles
pointing out across the water. Many houses had been razed, and their
débris, together with the fire ruin of the past winter, gave to everything
a look of desolation. Much artillery was parked in the State House yard,
and several vessels of war were lying at anchor in the stream, while the
entire shore line was filled with barges, decorated as for a fête, a large
force of men laboring about them. My companion, observing my
interest attracted in that direction, reined up his horse to explain.
"Those are the galleys being made ready for the Mischianza,
Fortesque," he said, waving his hand. "You came to us at a lucky hour."
"The Mischianza?" I asked, puzzled by the strange term. "Some festival,
you mean?--some gala day?"
"'Tis an Italian word, they tell me, signifying medley. The officers give
it in farewell to Sir William, who will sail to-morrow. A pretty penny it
costs. See, there is Major O'Hara now, one of the managers; there are
three others, Sir John Wrottlesly, Major Gardiner, and the chief
engineer, Montresor. Do you know them? No? Oh, I had forgotten you
have only just arrived. You will know them 'ere long, however, for they
are the leaders in such affairs. That is Captain André there with

O'Hara." He waved his hand, and the younger officer lifted his cocked
hat in acknowledgment. "Let us spur over there, Lieutenant, until I get
you a ticket of invitation."
I followed, careless of the loss of time so I could both see and hear.
"André, this is Lieutenant Fortesque just in from New York with
despatches for Howe. I have promised him a ticket for to-night."
The young officer laughingly extended a hand.
"The more the merrier, Craig. With the 42nd I see, sir; knew your
Colonel well. You'll find America isn't so bad, after you get used to it.
We've had a gay time here, eh, O'Hara? The best of liquor, and the
prettiest of girls, and now we'll show the town something it won't forget
in a hurry." He held out a card to me. "Rather ornate, considering the
printers in these colonies; designed it myself."
It was certainly a handsome souvenir, perhaps six inches by four in size,
engraved as in a shield, yielding a view