Peggy Owen at Yorktown Part 14

At this moment a pleasant-faced, plump little woman came bustling into the hall, and hastened to greet them.

"I could not come sooner, Hannah," she said. "I was making a lettuce tart which we are to have for supper. Come right up-stairs, both of you, and change that wet clothing. Nay, my child," as Peggy mindful of her dripping garments hesitated. "It doth not matter about the dripping. All that concerns us is to get you both into dry garments."

With such a welcome Peggy felt at home at once, and followed the overseer's wife obediently up the broad stairway to one of the chambers above. Mrs. Washington went to a chest of drawers and drew forth some folded garments.

"These are just the things for you, my dear," she said. "They were Martha's, and will fit you exceedingly well."

"I thank thee," said Peggy taking them reverently, for Martha had been Lady Washington's only daughter, and she had been told of her early death.

"I see you are a Quakeress," said Mrs. Washington pleasantly. "We have many such down here, though not so many as are in your state. How vastly the frock becomes her. Doth it not, Hannah?"

"It does indeed," replied Nurse Johnson glancing at the girl with approval. "Child, you should never wear aught but colors. You were never made for the quiet garb of your sect."

"Some of our Society are not so strict anent such matters as they might be," Peggy told them, a smile coming to her lips as she recalled the numerous rebukes concerning gay apparel given by the elders at the meetings. "'Tis only of late that I have dressed so quietly."

"Now, my dear," spoke Mrs. Washington, setting a dainty lace cap on the maiden's dark hair, "look in the mirror, and see if the result doth not please you."

"It pleases me well," answered Peggy surveying her reflection with a smile. "In truth it hath been long since I have been arrayed so gayly.

Mother doth not approve of much dressing while the war lasts."

"Your mother is right," concurred the lady with warmth. "Mrs. Washington feels just the same about the matter. Still, I doubt if your mother would remain of that opinion were she to see you now. Would that she could, or that a limner[[6]] were here to depict your likeness."

In truth the girl made a charming picture in the dainty frock of dove-colored Persian flowered with roses of cherry hue, and finished with a frill of soft lace from which her white throat rose fair and girlish. A pair of high-heeled red slippers completed the costume, and Peggy would have been more than human if her eyes had not brightened, and her cheeks flushed at her image in the mirror.

Mrs. Washington led them at once to the great dining-room, where they found Mr. Washington, and young Fairfax Johnson who had arrived a short time after them. The storm had ceased, but the clouds still hung dark and lowering, producing an early twilight. A house servant was just lighting the myrtle-berry candles in the l.u.s.ters as they entered the room, and the light glinted from the floor, scoured to a shining whiteness. The blacks brought in the supper immediately, and the little party gathered about the table informally. Peggy found herself seated beside Fairfax Johnson.

A spirit of mischief seized her, and made her sit silent, waiting for him to speak.

"For," she thought roguishly, "'twill never do in the world to have naught to record for the girls but those two remarks, 'It looks like rain,' and 'It is raining.' If I do not speak he must, or else be guilty of discourtesy."

Her patience was soon rewarded. The youth struggled bravely with his bashfulness, and presently turned to her.

"It hath stopped raining," he said.

Peggy's dimples came suddenly, and her eyes twinkled, but she answered demurely:

"It hath, Friend Fairfax, for which I am glad. It was a severe storm.

Did thee get very wet?"

"Yes," he answered. "It rained hard."

"Oh, dear!" thought the girl. "Will he never have anything to say except about that rain? I wonder what Betty would do? Such a nice lad should be broken of his shyness." Then aloud: "And Star, friend? Is she all right?"

"Yes. Didn't seem to mind it a bit, after the first scare. Did you get wet?"

"Yes. Monstrously so," replied Peggy, surprised that he was doing so well. "He won't need any help if this continues," was her mental comment. Then, "Mrs. Washington gave me some of Lady Washington's daughter's clothes to wear. They just fit me. Was she not kind?"

"Very," he answered briefly. "If-if getting wet always makes you look like you do to-night you had better get wet every day," he blurted out abruptly, and then turned from her decidedly, blushing furiously.

Peggy caught her breath at the suddenness of the thing, and colored also.

"Peggy, Peggy," she chided herself reproachfully. "Thee should not have spoke about thy frock. No doubt the lad deemed it duty to say something of the kind to thee. 'Twas not seemly in thee. And how shall I answer him?"

She was saved the necessity of a reply, however, by Mr. Washington, who said:

"You are quite well acquainted with the general and his wife, Hannah tells me, Miss Peggy. If 'twould please you to see something of the estate I will take you about a little in the morning before you start.

You should see something of the place while you are in these parts."

"Oh, I should be pleased," cried Peggy her animation returning at this.

"Thee is very kind, sir."

"The pleasure will be mine," was the courteous reply.

And so it happened that Peggy rose betimes the next morning, but early as she deemed it Mr. Washington was awaiting her. He had a little pony saddled and bridled ready for her to mount.

"We will have time for a short look about before breakfast," he said kindly. "'Tis my custom to ride to all the farms through the day, as the general does when he is home. 'Twould take too long for us to do that, but you can form an idea of the extent of the plantation by this detour."

Thanking him Peggy mounted, and they set off at a brisk pace. All trace of the storm had pa.s.sed save a dewy freshness of the air, and the wetness of the gra.s.s. The sun was shining with all the warmth and brightness of an April day in Virginia. The birds were twittering amid the new-born leaves, and the hyacinths and tulips were coming to their glory in the gardens. The smiles of cultivation were on every hand, and the air was heavy with the perfume of growing things after a rain.

The grounds in the immediate vicinity of the mansion were laid out in the English taste, Mr. Washington told her. The estate itself consisted of ten thousand acres which were apportioned into farms, devoted to different kinds of culture, each having its allotted laborers. Much, however, was still wild woodland, seamed with deep dells and runs of water, and indentured with inlets; haunts of deer and lurking places of foxes. The whole woody region along the Potomac with its forest and range of hills afforded sports of various kinds, and was a n.o.ble hunting ground.

The girl found that the plantation was a little empire in itself. The mansion house was the seat of government, with dependencies, such as kitchens, smoke-houses, work-shops and stables. There were numerous house servants for domestic service, and a host of field negroes for the culture of the crops. Their quarters formed a kind of hamlet apart, composed of various huts with little gardens and poultry yards, all well stocked, and swarming with little darkies gamboling in the sunshine.

Among the slaves were artificers of all kinds: tailors, shoemakers, carpenters, wheelwrights, smiths, and so on; so that the plantation produced everything within itself for ordinary use. The time was too short to permit of Peggy's seeing more than a small part of the whole, but she saw enough to permit of an estimate of the estate. As they returned to the mansion Mr. Washington a.s.sisted her to dismount, saying as he did so:

"No view of Mount Vernon is complete without a look at the Potomac from the wharf, Miss Peggy. You will just have time for that before the call comes for breakfast. Be quick; for yonder comes Mrs. Washington, and she won't want the cakes to cool."

"I will be back in a minute," cried Peggy catching his mood. Laughing gayly she ran swiftly across the sward under the trees and on to the wharf, which lay a little below the mansion, in front of the deer park.

"This is the place in truth for a fine view," commented the girl as she reached the extreme end of the wharf. "Peggy, take a good long look.

Thee will never have another chance, I fear. Heigh-ho! what will the girls say to this? 'Twill take the most of three pages in the diary to transcribe the half of this momentous day. It is a beautiful river, though of course I am partial to my own Delaware. No wonder the general loves his home. How the river winds and curves--Why!"

Peggy stopped short in her musings, and opened her eyes wide in surprise; for a large ship was bearing directly toward the wharf. For a moment she gazed, and then, as the ship veered slightly in her course, she caught sight of the flag at the taffrail. And at sight of that flag every drop of color left her face. For the flag was the emblem of England, and the ship was headed for Mount Vernon.

----- [6] Portrait-painter.

CHAPTER XIII-THE APPEARANCE OF THE ENEMY

"The word went forth from the throne: 'Reap down their crops with your swords!

Harry! ravage!

Hound on the rage of your hireling hordes, Hessian and savage!'"

-Leonard Woolsey Bacon.

For one long moment the girl stood staring at that flag, so stricken with terror as to be incapable of motion. Too well she knew the meanings of its presence. The descent of a British ship upon any part of the coast at this time brought destruction and ruin to all that lay in its path. Fire and sword, ravage and waste followed in its wake. And this was a British cruiser, and it was headed for Mount Vernon. Peggy wrung her hands in anguish and a sob broke from her lips.