Ten Girls from History Part 5

"Not waiting for a second word, Tilly darted like lightning out at the front door, through the yard, bolted o'er the fence. Swamps, fences, thorn-hedges and ploughed fields no way impeded his retreat. He was soon out of hearing.

"The woods echoed with, 'Which way did he go? Stop him! Surround the house!' Lips...o...b..had his hand on the latch, intending to attempt his escape. Stoddard, acquainted him with the deceit.

"'Major Stoddard,' said I, 'Go call Tilly back. He will lose himself,--indeed he will.' Every word interrupted with a Ha! Ha!

"At last he rose and went to the door and what a loud voice could avail in bringing him back, he tried.

"Figure to thyself this Tilly, of a snowy evening, no hat, shoes down at the heel, hair unty'd, flying across meadows, creeks and mud holes.

Flying from what? Why, a bit of painted wood.

"After a while our bursts of laughter being less frequent yet by no means subsided; in full a.s.sembly of girls and officers, Tilly entered.

"The greatest part of my responsibility turned to pity. Inexpressible confusion had taken entire possession of his countenance, his fine hair hanging dishevelled down his shoulders, all splashed with mud, yet his fright, confusion and race had not divested him of his beauty. He smiles as he trips up the steps, briskly walked five or six steps, then stopped and took a general survey of us all.

"'Where have you been, Mr. Tilly?' asked one officer. (We girls were silent.)

"'I really imagined,' said Stoddard, 'that you were gone for your pistols. I follow'd you to prevent danger,' an excessive laugh at each question, which it was impossible to restrain.

"'Pray, where are your pistols, Tilly?'

"He broke his silence by the following expression, 'You may all go to the devil!'" In recording this, Sally somewhat shocked says, "I never heard him utter an indecent expression before."

"At last his good nature gained a complete ascendance over his anger, and he joined heartily in the laugh. Stoddard caught hold of his coat.

'Come, look at what you ran from,' he exclaimed, and dragged him to the door.

"Tilly gave it a look, said it was very natural, and by the singularity of his expression gave fresh cause for diversion. We all retired,--for to rest our faces,--if I may say so.

"Well, certainly these military folk will laugh all night. Such screaming I never did hear. Adieu to-night."

Such incidents as that did good service in giving a touch of humour to the soldiers' duller duties when in camp, and the vivid picture of Tilly and the grenadier comes down to us through the years as a refreshing incident of Revolutionary days.

On the next day Sally writes, "I am afraid they will yet carry the joke too far. Tilly certainly possesses an uncommon share of good nature or he could not tolerate these frequent teasings." Then she adds what is most important of all,--

"Ah, Deborah, the Major is going to leave us entirely, just going. I will see him first."

And on the next day, "He has gone. I saw him pa.s.s the bridge. The woods hindered us from following him farther. I seem to fancy he will return in the evening."

But he never did, and it is left to our imagining how much of her heart the gallant young officer took away with him. Whether much or little, there was no evidence of her loss of spirits, and other admirers came and went, in quick succession and apparently entirely engaged her attention.

On the 20th of December, she writes, "General Washington's army have gone into winter quarters at Valley Forge.

"We shall not see so many of the military now. We shall be very intimate with solitude. I am afraid stupidity will be a frequent guest," and again, "A dull round of the same thing. I shall hang up my pen till something happens worth relating."

There being such a lack of diversion at the farm, Sally gladly went to spend a week with her friend Polly Fishbourn at Whitemarsh, where she had an opportunity to climb the barren hills and from their tops saw an extended view of the surrounding country. She says, "The traces of the Army which encamped on these hills are very visible,--ragged huts, imitations of chimneys, and many other ruinous objects which plainly showed that they had been there."

Again back at the farm she had long weeks without any other real adventures,--a real one where Sally was concerned, being always one with an officer in the foreground, but when June came again there arrived at the farm the Virginian captain, Dandridge, who seems to have effectually displaced Major Stoddard in the fickle little lady's graces, and she described him in glowing terms to Debby, giving very diverting accounts of the spicy conversations they had together, for Captain Dandridge was famous at repartee, and Sally never at a loss for words to answer back.

In fact there is no more charming bit of writing in the journal than the account of her intimacy with the Captain whom she speaks of as the "handsomest man in existence."

In one of Sally's conversations with Dandridge, an interesting light is thrown on the att.i.tude of the Wisters in the struggle for independence.

As Quakers, they professed to be in a neutral position, taking a firm stand against war, and preferring not to be drawn into discussions on political questions, which is shown by Sally's account of an evening when some officers having taken tea in the Wister parlour, she says, "the conversation turned on politicks, a subject to avoid. I gave Betsey a hint," she adds; "I rose, she followed, and we went out of the room."

But although theoretically opposed to war, the Wisters, like a majority of the Quakers, were at heart friends of liberty. There is no doubt that Sally's sympathy was with the American cause, she was quick to deny Dandridge's accusation that she was a Tory.

All too soon, Captain Dandridge, like the other officers, rode away from the farm after a gallant leave-taking, but Sally's thoughts were soon otherwise engrossed. She wrote, "We have had strange reports about the British being about to leave Philadelphia. I can't believe it."

And on the following day, "We have heard an astonishing piece of news--that the English have entirely left the city. It is almost impossible! Stay--I shall hear further," and then on the next, "A light horseman has just confirmed the above intelligence! This is _charmante_!

They decamped yesterday. He (the horseman) was in Philadelphia. It is true! They have gone! Past a doubt. I can't help forbear exclaiming to the girls, 'Now are you sure the news is true? Now are you _sure_ they have gone?'

"'Yes, yes, yes!' they all cry, 'and may they never, never return!'

"Dr. Gould came here to-night. Our army are about six miles off, on their march to the Jerseys."

On the next day she adds, "The army began their march at six this morning. Our brave, our heroic General Washington was escorted by fifty of the Life Guards with drawn swords. Each day he acquires an addition to his goodness."

A fine tribute, indeed, to the moving spirit of American Independence, and with it let us close Sally Wister's journal, sure that with the retreat of the British from Philadelphia, she will soon be able to return to the friends from whom she has had such a long separation, and so will have no further need to record happenings at the farm as she has been doing so faithfully, but can presently relate them not to Debby alone, but to the whole "Social Circle," and we may be sure from what we know of Mistress Sally that her stories will lose no spice in the telling.

If there are those who are reluctant to part with pretty Sally, let them turn to the little journal and read it in its spicy entirety for themselves, and it were well also after reading this chronicle of a girl of the Revolution, to turn to the pages of history and paint in more accurate detail the background of our vivid picture of Sally, for only a short distance from the farm, across the hills of Gwynedd, the greatest actors in the Revolutionary drama were playing their parts--Washington, Lafayette, Wayne, Steuben, Greene, and many others--playing the hero's part at the battle of Germantown, at the battle of Burgoyne, in the skirmishes before Washington's encampment at Whitemarsh, suffering silently in a winter at Valley Forge.

Turn to the pages of history for the sombre background and glance once again at the piquant face and merry eyes of Sally Wister, half hidden under her demure Quaker bonnet, with her snowy kerchief crossed so smoothly over her tempestuous young heart, as she looked when soldiers and officers fell under the charm of her bewitching personality!

COFACHIQUI:

An Indian Princess of Historic Legend

IT was a day in late April. In the flourishing Indian town of Yupaha, a town lying on the east bank of the Savannah River, in what is now the State of South Carolina, an unusual commotion was evident. An Indian on the river bank had noticed with his far-seeing eyes a strange sight on the opposite side of the river. The sunshine was flashing on glinting bra.s.s and steel implements upheld by a host of strange foreigners who were ma.s.sed near the river, some on foot and others mounted on such animals as the Indian had never before seen. What was to be the next move of these strangers? Were they planning to cross the river and invade the Red Man's stronghold? Quickly the Indian called around him the princ.i.p.al men of the village, sent a message also to the young and beautiful princess who had recently been made Queen of the province of Cofachiqui and of many neighbouring provinces. This princess was so just and loyal and honest in dealing with her people that they loved her as though she had been a wise man instead of a young girl. Now she was quickly told of the strange spectacle across the water and came herself to view it. Then her councillors gathered around her to receive her commands, and several Indians hurrying to the river, hastily embarked in their canoes, the rhythmic sound of their paddles echoing on the still air.

Meanwhile on the bank toward which they steered their canoes, there was an air of expectancy as the canoes came nearer, were grounded, as six stalwart Indian chiefs filed up the bank from the river, and stood before the foreigners, who were no other than Hernandez de Soto, the Spanish general, and his band of adventurers. The chiefs made three profound bows, one toward the East, to the Sun, one toward the West, to the moon, and one to De Soto himself. Then their spokesman asked:

"Do you wish peace or war?"

"Peace," answered De Soto promptly. "We ask only permission to pa.s.s through your province, transportation across the river, food while we are in your territory and the treatment of friends, not foes."

Gravely the Indian listened, gravely he answered. Peace, he said, could be a.s.sured, but for the other requests there must be time given to make answer. Cofachiqui, queen of the province bearing her name, must be consulted. Of food there was a scant supply because of a pestilence which had recently ravaged their land causing many natives to go into the forests, and preventing them from planting their fields as usual, but if the strangers would await Cofachiqui's response to their demands with what patience they could command, that patience would surely be rewarded.

The Indian ceased speaking and bowed. Gravely his companions also bowed.

The interview was over. With silent sinuous strides the chiefs retraced their steps to the river, and entered their canoes which soon shot through the water, homeward bound, watched by the eager eyes of the waiting Spaniards.

[Ill.u.s.tration: COFACHIQUI, THE INDIAN PRINCESS]

Now although De Soto had shown surprise at the news that the ruler of the neighbouring province was a young princess, the surprise was not genuine. Some months earlier in the season, while encamped in what is now the State of Florida, an Indian had been captured and brought into the Spanish camp. This youth had told thrilling tales to the Spaniards of the fascinating young Queen Cofachiqui and he related to a breathless audience how all the neighbouring chiefs paid tribute to her as to a great ruler, and sent her presents of magnificent clothing and provisions and gold. At the mention of gold which was the ruling pa.s.sion of De Soto and his followers, they plied the young Indian with further questions, and he, hoping for release as the price of his information, told in detail of the wonderful yellow metal which was found in such quant.i.ties in the province of Cofachiqui and neighbouring territories and how it was melted and refined, and as the Spaniards listened, they exchanged glances of joy that at last after all their weary wanderings, they were to find the long-looked-for treasure. At once they broke camp, robbing and plundering the Indians, without whose kindness and hospitality during the long Winter months they would have fared badly, but of that they were careless, and in every possible way drained the stores of the savages who had befriended them, in fitting themselves out for their expedition northward.

Then for long weeks they pressed onward through the trackless forest with no chart or compa.s.s, except such general directions as they received from the young Indian, to guide them, and as they travelled they left behind them a trail of theft and barbarous cruelty and murder in return for the kindness of the simple-minded natives whom they encountered in their march.

At last in late April they found themselves in the territory governed by Cofachiqui, the fair young girl who was ruler of many provinces and possessor of much gold, and their hopes of conquest were high. So, in accord with a hastily-laid plan, they ma.s.sed themselves on the east bank of the river, with the sunlight glinting through the great forest trees behind them, shining on their weapons and armour, and thus they received the visit of the Indians from the town of Yupaha, capital of Cofachiqui.

The interview was over--the Spaniards watched the chiefs as they disembarked on the opposite sh.o.r.e, saw a great crowd of natives gather around them, engaging in eager conversation, saw canoes being again made ready for use, one more showily ornamented than the others being filled with cushions and mats, over which a canopy was hastily raised. The eyes of the Spaniards were strained to lose no detail of the Indians'