Peggy Owen and Liberty

by Lucy Foster Madison

  CHAPTER I

  A SMALL DINNER BECOMES A PARTY

  "At Delaware's broad stream, the view begin Where jutting wharfs, food-freighted boats take in; Then, with the advancing sun direct your eye Wide opes the street with firm brick buildings high; Step, gently rising, over the pebbly way, And see the shops their tempting wares display."

  --_"Description of Philadelphia," Breitnal, 1729._

  It was the first of March, 1782, and over the city of Philadelphia asevere storm was raging. A stiff wind, that lashed the black waters ofthe Delaware into sullen fury and sent the snow whirling and eddyingbefore it, blew savagely from the northeast. The snow, which had begunfalling the day before, had continued all night with such rigorous,relentless persistence that by the noon hour the whole city wassheeted with a soft white blanket that spread abroad a solemnstillness. The rolling wheels of the few vehicles in the streets werenoiseless, and the sharp ring and clatter of horses' hoofs became adull muffled tramp. High up overhead the snow settled on the churchspires, clothing them in a garb of pure cold white, and drifted amongthe niches of the State House Tower, until the face of the great clockwas hidden, and could scarce be told for what it was.

  Just across from the State House, in the midst of extensive grounds,stood a large double brick house which was taking its share of thestorm. There were piles of snow on the steps and broad piazzas, hugedrifts against the fences, and great banks on the terraces of thegardens. The wind lashed the lithe limbs of the leafless trees of theorchard, shrieked through the sooty caverns of the wide chimneys,whistled merrily as it drove the snow against the windows, and rattledthe casements with howls of glee as it went whirling by.

  Storm-bound the mansion seemed, but its cold and wintry appearance waswholly on the outside, for within its walls there was no lack ofcheerfulness and warmth. Great fires blazed on every hearth and puffedclouds of smoke through the broad chimneys, in defiance of the windwhich strove there for the mastery. Between the heavy gusts of windcame gleeful bursts of laughter from the sitting-room as though theinmates were too happy to heed the driving storm without, and from thekitchen arose savory odors that spoke of tempting preparations for abounteous meal, which further enhanced the air of geniality thatpervaded the dwelling.

  In this latter apartment were two persons: one, a serene faced womanof middle age who was busily engaged at the kneading board; the other,a slender maiden well covered by a huge apron and with sleeves rolledback, stood before a deal table reducing loaf sugar to usable shape.They were Mistress David Owen and her daughter Peggy.

  "How it blows!" exclaimed the girl, looking up from her task as asudden gust of wind flung the outside door wide, and sent the snowscurrying across the sanded floor of the kitchen. "What shall be doneanent that door, mother?"

  "Tell Sukey to bring a large stick of wood and put against it,"returned the lady. "Then look to the oven, Peggy. 'Tis hard to get aclear fire with so much wind."

  "I do believe that everything is going to be done to a turn in spiteof it," remarked Peggy, a little frown of anxiety which had puckeredher brow disappearing as she glanced into the great oven.

  "Then as soon as thou hast set the table the dinner will be ready totake up. I make no doubt but that thy friends are hungry. And what atime they seem to be having," Mrs. Owen added as a merry peal oflaughter came from the sitting-room.

  "Are they not?" Peggy smiled in sympathy. "I am so glad they cameyesterday. I fear me that they could not have reached here to-day inthis dreadful storm. 'Tis too bad to have such weather now when 'tisRobert's first home leave in three years."

  "Methinks that 'twould better come when one is on a furlough than incamp," remarked her mother gravely. "It must be terrible for thesoldiers who lack so much to keep them comfortable."

  "True," assented the girl soberly. "Would that the war were at an end,and the peace we long for had come in very truth."

  "And so do we all, my daughter. 'Tis weary waiting, but we must ofnecessity possess ourselves with patience. But there! let not thethought of it sadden thee to-day. 'Tis long since thou hast had thyfriends together. Enjoy the present, for we know not what the morrowmay bring. And now----"

  "Set the table," added Peggy with a laugh, as she rolled down hersleeves. "And don't thee dally too long talking with thy friends,Peggy. Thee didn't add that, mother."

  "As thee knows thy weakness it might be well to bear it in mind,"commented her mother with a smile.

  The kitchen was the principal apartment of a long low buildingattached to the main dwelling by a covered entry way. Through thisPeggy went to the hall and on to the dining-room, where she beganlaying the table. This room adjoined the sitting-room, and, as thebursts of merriment became more and more frequent, the maiden softlyopened the connecting door and peeped in.

  A tall youth of soldierly bearing, in the uniform of the LightInfantry, his epaulettes denoting the rank of major, leaned carelesslyagainst one end of the mantelpiece. On a settle drawn up before thefire sat two girls. One held a book from which she was reading aloud,and both the other girl and the youth were so intent upon herutterances that they did not notice Peggy's entrance. They turnedtoward her eagerly as she spoke:

  "Aren't you getting hungry, or are you too interested to stop fordinner?"

  "'Tis quite time thee was coming, Peggy," cried the girl who had beenreading, tossing back her curly locks that, innocent of powder, hungin picturesque confusion about her face. "I really don't know what weare to do with Betty here. Since she hath taken to young lady waysthere's no living with her."

  "What has thee been doing, Betty Williams?" queried Peggy with mockgravity, turning toward the other girl. Her hair was done high over acushion, profusely powdered, and she waved a large fan languidly.

  "Sally is just talking, Peggy," she said. "She and Robert seem to findmuch amusement in some of my remarks. 'Tis just nothing at all. SallyEvans is the one that needs to be dealt with."

  "Sally hath been reading to us from your diary, which you kept for theSocial Select Circle while you were in Virginia," explained RobertDale. "We were much entertained anent the account of your bashfulfriend, Fairfax Johnson. Betty amused us by telling just what shewould have done with him had she been in your place."

  "I often wished for her," declared Peggy, smiling. "Poor Fairfax wouldmantle did a girl but speak to him. And yet he was so brave!"

  "He was indeed," assented the youth with warm admiration. "Sally hathjust read where he went to warn the Legislature of Virginia ofTarleton's coming despite the fact that he was ill. But, Peggy, wecould not help but laugh over what he said to you. Read his words,Sally."

  "'I said,'" read Sally picking up the book again, "'Friend Fairfax,thee always seems so afraid of us females, yet thee can do this, oraught else that is for thy country. Why is it?' And he replied:

  "'To defend the country from the invader, to do anything that can bedone to thwart the enemy's designs, is man's duty. But to face abattery of bright eyes requires courage, Mistress Peggy. And that Ihave not.'"

  "Wasn't that fine?" cried Betty with animation. "I adore bravery andshyness combined. Methinks 'twould be delightsome to be the woman whocould teach him how to face such a battery. Thee didn't live up to thyopportunity, Peggy. It was thy duty to cure such a fine fellow ofbashfulness. It was thy duty, I say. Would I could take him in hand."

  "Would that thee might, Betty," answered Peggy. "But I fear thee wouldhave thy hands full."

  "I wonder if thee has heard the latest concerning Betty's doings,"broke in Sally. "Mr. Deering told me of it. Betty was dancing ameasure with Colonel Middleton at the last Assembly when Mr. Deeringcame up to her and said:

  "'I see that you are dancing with a man of war, Miss Betty.'

  "'Yes, sir,' says Betty, 'but I think a tender would be preferable.'"

  "Oh, Betty! Betty!" gasped Peggy when the merriment that greeted thishad subsided. "How did thee dare?"

  "La!" spoke Betty, arranging the folds of her paduaso
y gowncomplacently, "when a man is so remiss as to forget the refreshmentsone must dare."

  "I verily believe that she could manage your friend, Fairfax,"commented Robert Dale laughing. "Would that I might be there to seeit."

  "I kept an account of everything he said for Betty's especialdelectation," said Peggy. "She named him the 'Silent Knight,' and itwas very appropriate."

  "Now why for my delectation instead of thine, or Sally's?" queriedBetty.

  "Why, Sally and I are such workaday damsels that we are not accustomedto handling such problems," explained Peggy demurely. "Thou art theonly belle in the Social Select Circle, and having been instructed inFrench, I hear very thoroughly, thou hast waxed proficient in mattersregarding the sterner sex."

  "Nonsense! Nonsense!" ejaculated Betty. She sat up quickly, andsniffed the air daintily. "Peggy Owen," she cried, "do I in verytruth smell pepper-pot?"

  "Thee does. I thought that would please thee. And Sally, too, butRobert----" She glanced at the lad inquiringly.

  "Robert is enough of a Quaker to enjoy pepper-pot," answered heemphatically. "This weather is the very time for it too."

  "We'll forgive thy desertion of us so long as thee was makingpepper-pot," declared Sally.

  "Well, Robert hath not had leave for three years, so mother and Ithought we must do what we could to give him a good dinner."

  "Does she mean by that that thee has not eaten in all that time,Robert?" demanded Betty slyly. "In truth 'twould seem so. I do believethat she hath done naught but move betwixt spit and oven this wholemorning."

  "I think I shall do justice to all such preparations," said the youthsmiling. "I fancy that the most of us in the army would find littledifficulty in keeping Peggy busy all the time."

  "Hark!" exclaimed Sally. "I thought I heard some one call."

  As the youth and the maidens assumed a listening attitude there came afaint "Hallo!" above the tumult of the wind. Sally ran to one of thewindows that faced Chestnut Street, and flattened her nose against theglass in the endeavor to see out.

  "'Tis a man on horseback," she cried. "He is stopping in front of thehouse. Now he is dismounting. Who can it be?"

  "Some traveler, I make no doubt," remarked Peggy, coming to her side."The storm hath forced him to stop for shelter. Ah! there is Tom readyto take his horse. He should have cleaned the steps, but he waited, Idare say, hoping that it would stop snow---- Why! it's father----" shebroke off abruptly, making a dash for the door. "Tell mother, Sally."

  "David, this is a surprise," exclaimed Mrs. Owen, coming quickly inanswer to Sally's call, and reaching the sitting-room just as a tallman, booted and spurred, entered it from the hall. "Thee must bealmost frozen after being exposed to the fury of such a storm."

  "'Tis good to be out of it, wife," answered Mr. Owen, greeting herwith affection. He stretched his hands luxuriantly toward the fire asPeggy relieved him of his hat and riding coat, and glanced aboutappreciatively. "How cozy and comfortable it is here! And what a merryparty! It puts new heart into a man just to see so much brightness."

  "We are to have pepper-pot, Mr. Owen," Betty informed him, drawingforward a large easy chair for his use while Sally ran to lay an extraplate on the table. "Doesn't it smell good?"

  "It does indeed, Betty. The odor is delectable enough to whet theappetite to as keen an edge as the wind hath. Robert, 'tis some timesince I have seen thee."

  "I am on my first leave in three years, Mr. Owen. Are you on afurlough too, sir?"

  "Nay, lad; I took one just after Yorktown, when I brought Peggy homefrom Virginia. General Washington, who, as thee doubtless knows, isstill here in Philadelphia perfecting plans with Congress for nextsummer's campaign, hath sent for me to confer with him regarding thebest means of putting down this illicit trade which hath sprung up oflate. I do not know how long the conference will last, but it comesvery pleasantly just now, as it enables me to have the comforts ofhome during this severe weather."

  "When did you leave the Highlands, sir?"

  "Four days since. The army had begun to hope that winter was over, asthe ice was beginning to come down the Hudson. This storm hath dashedour hopes of an early spring."

  "And must thee return there, David?" asked Mistress Owen.

  "No; I am to go to Lancaster. This trade seems to be flourishing amongthe British prisoners stationed there. Congress had granted permissionto England to keep them in supplies, and it seems that advantage istaken of this fact to include a great many contraband goods. These theprisoners, or their wives, are selling to the citizens of Lancasterand surrounding country. To such an extent hath the trade grown thatit threatens to ruin the merchants of the place, who cannot competewith the prices asked. I am to look into the matter, and to stop theimportation of such goods, if possible."

  "'Tis openly talked that England will defer coming to terms of peacebecause she hopes to conquer us by this same trade," observed RobertDale gravely.

  "And is like to succeed if it cannot be put down," commented DavidOwen shaking his head. "All along the coast the British cruiserspatrol to capture our merchantmen, and to obstruct our commerce. TheDelaware is watched, our coasts are watched that we may not get goodselsewhere, or have any market for our produce. Unable to get what theywant, our own people buy where they can without realizing the harm.'Tis estimated from forty to fifty thousand pounds have been drawn bythis means into New York in the past few months. If this continues theenemy will soon be possessed of all the hard money that hath come intothe country through the French, and without money we can do naught.Our resources and industries have been ruined by the long war, andthis latest scheme of England bids fair to undo what hath beenaccomplished by force of arms."

  "And after Yorktown every one thought that of course peace was just amatter of a few months. That it would be declared at once," sighedSally. "Oh, dear! It makes me sad to think the war is not over yet!"

  "And I have been the marplot to spoil this merry company," said Mr.Owen contritely. "Let's declare a truce to the matter for the timebeing, and discuss that pepper-pot. Is't ready, lass?"

  "Yes, father," answered Peggy rising. "And there is a good dinnerbeside. We will enjoy it the more for having thee with us."

  "Thee must be hungry, David," observed Mistress Owen rising also. "Thedinner is ready to put on the table, so thee is just in time. I----"

  She stopped abruptly as high above the noise of the wind the brassknocker sounded.

  "More company," exclaimed Betty gleefully as Peggy started for thehall. "Peggy, thy small dinner bids fair to become a party."