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Did he say aught to you, sir, of the terms he would grant?"
"I am no longer on General Washington's staff" answered Brereton, "so I know not his expectations."
"From all I hear of him," said the general, "he is not a man to use a triumph ungenerously. He fought bravely under the British standards, and surely will not now seek to bring unnecessary shame on them." Seating himself at the table, he wrote a few lines, which he folded and sealed. "Will you not, use your influence with him to grant us the customary honours, and spare the officers from the disgrace of giving up their side arms?"
"I no longer possess influence with or the confidence of his Excellency," replied Brereton, gravely; "but he is a generous man, and I predict will not push his advantage merely for your humiliation."
"Will he not forbear making our surrender a spectacle?"
"If the talk of the camp be of value, my Lord, 't is said you are to be granted the exact terms you allowed to General Lincoln at Savannah; and you yourself cannot but acknowledge the justice of such treatment."
"'T was not I who dictated the terms of that surrender."
"Your observation, my Lord, forces the reply that 't is a nation, not an individual, we are fighting."
The proud face of the British general worked for a moment in the intensity of his emotion. "We have no right to complain that we receive measure for measure," he said; "and yet sir, though the lex talionis may be justified, it makes it none the less bitter."
Colonel Brereton took the letter, his eyes were blindfolded again, and he was led back beyond the lines.
With the expiration of the two hours, the firing was not resumed; and all that day and the next flags were pa.s.sing and repa.s.sing between the lines, with the result that on the afternoon of the latter, commissioners met at the Moore house and drew up the terms of capitulation, which were signed that evening.
At twelve o'clock on the 19th, the English colours were struck on the redoubts, and the American were hoisted in their stead. Two hours later the armies of the allies took up position opposite each other on the level ground outside the town, and the British troops, with shouldered arms, cased colours, and bands playing, as stipulated, an English air, "The World Turned Upside Down," came marching out of their lines. As they advanced, Washington turned to an officer behind him and ordered, "Let the word be pa.s.sed that the troops are not to cheer. They have fought too well for us to triumph over them." In consequence not a sound came from the American ranks as the British regiments marched up and with tears in many a brave man's eyes grounded their arms and colours. But the officers, through Washington's generosity, were allowed to retain their swords, sparing Cornwallis the mortification of having to be present in person; and it was General O'Hara who spoke the formal words of surrender, and who led the disarmed and flagless regiments back into the town, once the formalities had been completed. By nightfall twenty-four standards and over eight thousand prisoners were in the possession of the allied forces.
But one had escaped them, for in a cellar, hidden behind a heap of refuse and boxes, his body already stripped of its clothes by pilfering negroes, his face horribly distorted, and with froth yet on his lips, lay the commissary, dead.
And at the very moment the next day that two companies, one of British Fusileers, and one of New Jersey Continentals, were firing a volley over a new-made grave, in which, wrapped in the flag of his country, and buried with every military honor, had been deposited the body of him who had been Sir Frederick Mobray, a fatigue party were rolling into a trench, and carelessly covering with earth from the battered redoubts, along with the bodies of negroes and horses, and of barrels of spoiled pork and beef, the naked corpse of him who had been John Ombrey, Baron Clowes.
LXIII ON BRUNSWICK GREEN
On a pleasant June afternoon in the year 1782, the loungers about the Continental Tavern in the village of Brunswick were discussing the recent proclamations of the governor and commander-in-chief forbidding illicit trading with New York, both of which called forth general condemnation, well voiced by Bagby, when he remarked:--
"A man with half an eye can see what they are working for, and that their objections to our supplying the Yorkers is only a blind. What they really wants is that we patriots, who don't spend our days idling about in camp all winter at Rocky-Hill and now at Middle-Brook, doing nothing except eat the people's food, and spend the people's money, but who earn a living by hard work, sha' n't have no market but the continental commissaries, and so will have to take whatever they allow to offer us for our crops."
"'T aint the proclamations ez duz the rale injoory,"
a.s.serted Squire Hennion; "fer printed orders duz n't hurt n.o.body, but when the gin'ral sends a hull brigade of sogers ter pervent us sellin' our c.r.a.ps then I consarned ef it aint tyranny ez every freeman is baound ter resist, jest ez we did in '65 an' '74."
Bagby, with a sour look at Hennion, said: "That 's one of the biggest grievances, but not the way some pretended friends of the people would have us think. What do your fellows say to officers having been fixed, so that pickets are only put where they'll stop us from sending boats to New York, while there 's one right here is allowed to send cargoes just when he likes?"
"Does yer mean that, Joe?" demanded a farmer.
"That I does," a.s.serted Bagby, looking meaningly at Hennion. "I was told as a chance was given to the army to catch the man deepest in the business--and in worse--red handed. But what 's done? Instead of laying a trap, and catching him, they don't stir a finger, but wait ten months and then sends the very officer who did n't do nothing to put a stop to it. For weeks that high c.o.c.k-a-lorum Brereton 's been smelling about this town, and lining the river at night with his pickets, when all the time he could have come here any afternoon, and arrested the traitor."
"Thet 'eres lucky fer yer," snarled Hennion viciously.
"yer ain't the only one ez kin tell tales, I warns yer."
"I have n't done no bribing, and it was n't me as the information was lodged against," retorted Joe, rancourously.
"You can't mean as General Brereton 's winking at the trade, when scarce a boat 's got out of the river since his brigade camped there," demanded one of the loungers, indicating with his thumb Brunswick Green, whitened by rows of tents.
"I mean as Brereton could lay hands any time he pleased on one traitor, and why he has n't done so is what I want to know. What 's more, I'd like to know, why Washington does n't take any notice of the charges that I've been told was preferred against Brereton nigh six months ago for this very matter. I tell you, fellows, that money 's being used, and that some of those who hold themselves highest, is taking it."
"Don't seem like his Excellency 'ud do anythin' ez sneaky ez that," observed the publican, glancing upwards with pride at his signboard, now restored to its former position. "Folks says he's a 'nation fine man."
I'm just sick of all this getting on the knees to a man,"
grumbled Joseph, "just because he went and captivated Cornwallis. Washington is n't a bit better than some of us right here and it won't be long before you'll find it out."
"How do you make that, Joe?"
"Is n't he trying to bully Congress into paying the army, just as if he was king, as I suppose he hopes to be some day.
You wait till he gets his way, and I guess the tax collectors will make the people sing a different tune about him. If I'm elected to the a.s.sembly this spring, I calculate to make some ears buzz and tingle a bit, once the legislature meets.
I'll teach some of these swaggering military chaps--who were n't nothing but bond-servants once yet who some of you fellows is fools enough now to talk of sending to Congress-- that this is a nation of freemen, and that now that the British is licked, we don't have no more use for them, and--"
"Waal, I declare, if thet don't favour Squire Meredith, an'
his darter," interjected a farmer, suddenly, pointing with his pipe to where an army waggon was approaching on the Princeton post-road.
"Swan, ef yer ain't right," cried Hennion. "I did hope we wuz quit of them fer good an' all."
"Wonder what the gal 's in black fer?" observed a lounger.
"My n.i.g.g.e.r cook Sukey," said the landlord, "told me that Gin'ral Brereton told her the ole lady wuz mortal sick o' the small-pox an' that when he went aboard the pest-ship, she wuz so weak it did n't seem like she could be moved, but he an' the doctor got her safe ash.o.r.e, an' when he last hearn, 'bout the first o' the year, she wuz gainin'."
The publican rose and went forward as the van stopped in front of his door. "Glad tew see yer, squire," he said, "an' yer, too, Miss Janice. Seems most like ole times.
Hope nuthin 's wrong with Miss Meredith?"
The squire slowly and heavily got down from the box seat.
"We have her body in the waggon," he said wearily and sadly.
"I vum, but that 's too bad!" exclaimed the landlord, and, for want of words of comfort, he hesitatingly held out his hand, but recollecting himself, he was drawing it back, when Mr. Meredith, forgetful of rank, caught and squeezed it.
"She never really rallied," went on the squire, with tears in his eyes, "and though she lived on through the winter, she did n't have the strength to mend. She died three weeks ago, and we have come back here to bury her."
"Naow yer an' Miss Janice come right intew my place, an I'll fix yer both ez comfortable ez I kin," invited the publican, warmly, once again forgetting himself so far as to pat Mr.
Meredith on the back. Then as he helped Janice down, he shouted, "Abram, mix a noggin o' sling, from the bestest, an' tell Sukey that she's wanted right off, no matter what she's doin'."
The last direction was needless, for the slave, in some way informed of the arrival, had Janice in her arms ere the landlord well completed his speech, and was carrying more than leading her into the hotel and up the stairs to the room reserved for people of quality only, where she lifted her on to the bed and with her arms still clasped about the girl wept over her, half in misery, and half in an almost savage joy, while repeating again and again, "Oh, my missy, my Missy Janice, my young missy, my pooty young missy, come back to ole Sukey."
"Oh, Sukey," sobbed Janice, "but mommy is dead."
"Doan young missy pine," begged the slave. "De Lord he know best, an' he bring my chile, dat I dun take care ob from de day he dun gib her, back to ole black Sukey."
Meantime, the squire, after a question as to where the coffin could be temporarily placed, and a direction to the driver of the wagon, asked the publican: "We had word in Virginia that Greenwood was sold by the state; is 't so?"
"Yes, squire, it wuz auctioned last August an' wuz bought by ole squire Hennion, an' jes naow his Excellency 's usin' it fer headquarters, till the army moves north'ard."
A sadder look came on Mr. Meredith's face. "That 's worse news yet," he grieved, with a shake of his head; "but perhaps he'll not carry his hatred into this." He walked over to where the all-attentive loungers were sitting, and going up to Hennion, said humbly: "We were once friends, Hennion, and I trust that such ill feeling as ye bear for me will not lead ye to refuse a request I have to make."
"An' what 'ere is thet?" inquired Hennion, suspiciously.