Henry’s good feelings were enhanced by the return of some of the officers from Providence. Lieutenant Tew brought with him a letter from Gillet’s wife, two pairs of new stockings, a piece of lye and a small strip of pale blue linen. She had made a dress for their six-year old daughter from the same material. She wrote that she wished him to imagine their little Sally wearing it now that spring was approaching. He brought the narrow blue band to his lips, seeing Judith seated by the small square table near the kitchen hearth, sewing by candle light, and imagining the delight in Sally’s eyes as she whirled around their dining room in her new dress.
The thought of his fear of dying in the wretched hospital and being buried where Judith would never find him seemed so long ago. If he died in battle, true, he would never see Judith again. His soldier brothers would know where he had fallen and she would find him. Her love expressed in the letter assured him of that. He fingered the fabric again before placing it between the folds of Judith’s letter and storing it in his haversack.
The news was almost all good for Oliver as well. Whipple’s daughter had recovered from the cough, his family was managing, although money was scarce, and his brother had not yet returned from privateering. There was no information as to his ship being captured or wrecked so all were hoping for the best. It was dated March 4th, so perhaps his brother had already returned. “He is a good seaman and no news of a battle or capture is in his favor,” Henry told him to assuage his friend’s anxiety. Still, he knew from his own experience, the agony of awaiting news from home and the fear that some misfortune had already befallen a loved one; and all that remained was to receive the dreaded news weeks after the event had occurred.
Mary Lewis sat on the crimson cushioned seat of the Drinker family’s carriage, squeezed between Elizabeth Drinker and Susanna Jones. Opposite her were Phebe Pemberton and Mary Pleasants, the five of them being driven to Valley Forge to meet with General Washington. They had a pass issued by Lord Cornwallis to cross the lines and plead for the release of their husbands and others, imprisoned because they, as Quakers, had refused to sign an oath of allegiance to the patriotic cause. Only Mary of the group had been to Valley Forge, but she said nothing about her prior dangerous journey. The stark barren landscape she had traveled through the past winter, to warn of the cavalry raid on the hospital at Princeton, was blushing green with grass and blossoming dogwoods. 9
The women had labored for weeks drafting a paper arguing for the release of their husbands and other prominent Philadelphia Quakers. The twenty men had been detained since the past September, through the winter under harsh conditions in Winchester, Virginia. Although it was penned by Elizabeth Drinker, all five women had a part in its formulation. The paper began with the argument that the men had not been formally charged, only accused and such accusations were baseless. They were no threat to the Whig cause but instead remained steadfastly neutral in the ongoing brutal struggle, as required by their beliefs. The letter was addressed to the Congress then sitting in Lancaster. The women decided to make their case to General Washington at Valley Forge and hoped, with his support, the Congress would respond favorably.
At the last picket post, as at the preceding ones, they had once again explained the purpose of their visit and received a pass from the Colonel in charge to proceed. The five women collectively breathed a sigh of relief as they now approached General Washington’s headquarters at Valley Forge, with their escort of six cavalry.
“It is past noon and it has been almost twenty-four hours since we left Philadelphia,” Susanna observed. “Although the distance is short, the numerous delays were inevitable, but at last we are here.”
Mary was nervous. She wished she could meet separately with General Knox, or at least his brother Billy, and seek the General’s assistance in pleading their case to General Washington. They were the only two who knew of her secret role in preventing Dr. Rush and Reverend Witherspoon from being captured by British dragoons. Yet, she could not leave as soon as they arrived without arousing the suspicions of the other ladies.
The coachman and the two Negroes who had ridden postilion helped them down from the carriage. As they passed the uniformed headquarters guards, they were met in the hallway by a Colonel who informed them that General Washington was unable to see them immediately. However, Mrs. Washington had invited the ladies to join her in the sitting room. Upstairs, waiting to be announced, Phebe whispered “We should presume upon the good lady to intercede with her husband for the welfare of ours. Her influence may be substantial.”
Susanna nodded in agreement. “She must be extremely devoted to him to have wintered at Valley Forge.”
Once introductions had been made and courtesies exchanged, Elizabeth Drinker, being from the most prominent and affluent Philadelphia Quaker family, assumed the role of leader of the group. She described her long marriage to her husband, the hardship she and her young children suffered in his absence and her anxiety for his wellbeing. Shrewdly, she asked each of them in turn to relate their own trying circumstances. Following her lead, Mary Pleasants, Phebe, and Susanna emphasized the love they had for their missing men, and the difficulties of hiding from their children the overwhelming insecurity they felt for their dear little ones who may never see their fathers again.
While the four women sipped tea and urged the release of their husbands, Mary Lewis observed Martha Washington. She seemed a gracious and sympathetic woman. But there was an air of practicality to her and Mary sensed the General’s wife thought more broadly than the situation of twenty Quaker prisoners. She decided to try a different approach. She would advocate that those in power should display a modicum of justice that in turn would persuade Quakers they would fare better under the Patriots than the Loyalists. They would be inclined to be less neutral and more supportive. That could cause her trouble when they returned to Philadelphia and when Elizabeth Drinker reported to the Assembly on their meetings.
Before it was her turn to speak, there was a polite knock on the door and General Washington joined them. He bowed slightly when introduced to each of them, apologized for having kept them waiting, and seated himself next to Martha on a brocaded settee. He listened politely to Elizabeth Drinker’s summary of what four of the five of them had stated to his wife. The General, while extremely courteous, almost immediately responded that this was a civilian matter. He could do no more than grant them a pass to travel to Lancaster. There they would have to plead for their husbands’ release, not with the Congress but before the Council. 10
A sharp knock on the door brought the disappointing one-sided meeting to an end. An orderly entered and announced dinner was ready. Mary wondered, although it was the customary mid-afternoon time, whether the announcement was fortuitous or pre-arranged. At Martha’s suggestion, the five Quaker ladies joined the General and his wife. They were escorted to a newly constructed single room wooden building behind the stone house kitchen, with its smell of freshly cut pine of the walls, wide planked floor and rafters. After some initial confusion the ladies were seated at a long Damask-covered table. Mary counted seventeen officers present. Elizabeth Drinker was close to the General and Mrs. Washington near the head of the table. To her delight, Mary found herself at the middle across from Captain Samuel Hadley.
“Mary Lewis. I state with all sincerity how delightful it is to see you at our Commander’s table.” At the mention of her name, a heavyset General closer to the end, turned and smiled warmly at her. He was a large man, well over six feet, she guessed, and more than two hundred and sixty pounds, judging by what she could see of him. From Elisabeth’s description, she knew it was General Knox. Hadley introduced her to the younger officers seated nearby.
The officers peppered her with questions about the British in Philadelphia. In between the main courses of marinated roast chicken, a veal pie with savory, and planked shad surrounded by parsnips, Mary related her visits to the hospitals and the general condition of the troops about town. 11 She noted the fluctuations in
the numbers of sick and incapacitated Hessians, the recent arrival of newly recruited Loyalist militias and the departure of some troops by ship. She realized she had acquired Elizabeth van Hooten’s eye for detail and acute memory and was able to designate Hessian regiments and name individual officers.
The second course of crusted baked apples, potato pie and carrot pudding arrived as she lowered her voice and spoke of the abysmal conditions she had seen at the State House, where American officers were held prisoner. There was a general grumbling around her part of the long table at such shameful treatment, amidst suggestions to either hasten prisoner exchanges or threaten to treat the British prisoners in the same manner, if conditions did not improve.
Although she was not accustomed to dining with military officers, Mary was impressed by their good manners and amused that they first deferred to her and Susanna nearby, before helping themselves from the common platters. Clearly, she thought, the hard times of starvation when she had been at Valley Forge in January were past, although this was General Washington’s table.
After dinner, Martha Washington again invited the ladies to her sitting room. Mary politely declined, stating that Captain Hadley, an old acquaintance from the first Independence Day celebration in Philadelphia, wished to pay her a courtesy call. As the other guests drifted into the main house, Hadley escorted Mary to a wagon waiting outside and helped her up on to the seat. Taking the reins from the stable hand, he urged the horse up the Valley Road, away from Washington’s headquarters.
“We are going to General Knox’s house. He will meet us there. Until he does my new bride, Mercy, who I am sure you remember, will be your hostess.”
“I knew you were married and I am very pleased for the two of you.”
Hadley seemed surprised. “Will wrote of your betrothal and wedding in his last letter to Elisabeth,” she explained. “You know she is living with me?” Hadley shook his head. “I must see Will before I leave. Elisabeth asked me to personally reassure him of her safety. Could you arrange for him to meet with me?”
“That will not be possible. He is somewhere west of Lancaster with the rest of the artillery regiment.”
“Oh dear,” Mary sighed. “Elisabeth will be greatly disappointed that we have not met. She is anxious for me to return to Philadelphia with an exact account of his health and well-being.”
They turned off the Valley Road and up a short tree-lined way. Two sentries flanked the steps to the narrow porch, and inside an orderly directed them to a small private sitting room off the central hall. Hadley beamed as his wife entered and embraced Mary warmly.
“How is our mutual friend Elisabeth? ” Mercy asked. “When I last saw Will at Princeton, he could speak of nothing but her.”
“Will was at Princeton? Not ill with any fever, I pray.”
Hadley explained how Will had been one of the soldiers transporting the sick from Valley Forge to the newly established hospital and had been there when the British dragoons had attacked. “I was there, too. Indeed, we were staying with Reverend Witherspoon.” He glanced at Mercy who nodded in agreement.
Mary clasped her hands to her mouth. “Gracious me,” she said. “I had no idea until now, the information Elisabeth learned about the imminent raid . . .” she let her words trail off.
Hadley recounted the arrival of their cavalry and the successful ambush and rout of the dragoons. “It was all over shortly after dawn and the survivors fled down the Princeton Trenton turnpike. It seems that unwittingly, in addition to saving Reverend Witherspoon and Dr. Rush, Elisabeth also protected Will from harm. General Knox himself told me of your arrival and marveled at the coincidence. He attributed it as a sign that Providence had intervened. But why,” he asked “did Elisabeth not send a message or come herself?”
Mary took a moment, still surprised at the information that Will had been at the hospital. Then, gathering her thoughts, she described the frantic meeting after Elisabeth had returned from Mrs. Bates’s shop and their decision the information must be delivered in person.
“As for her coming herself, that was her strong desire. It was fortunate that I prevailed upon her that I should come in her stead. We surmised correctly as it turned out, having seen the numerous local Tory patrols on the roads, it was unlikely she would pass through the lines without arousing suspicion.”
“I, too, am indebted to you for my husband’s safety,” Mercy said. “But what is the reason for this visit to Valley Forge in such an open manner?”
“None of my companions know of my prior traveling to this camp. And they must not. I would be condemned for violating the neutrality edict of the Assembly.” Mary explained the purpose of the Quaker ladies’ mission. “I intend to ask General Knox to intercede with General Washington and urge a favorable response to our plea. I have not seen my own husband for more than seven months and fear for his health and mental state.”
Mary’s obvious distress put a pall on the conversation, which did not dissipate with the arrival of tea. The heavy footfall of General Knox in the central hallway broke the mood. Mary jumped to her feet in anticipation.
“My dear courageous lady,” he boomed, closing the door behind him, as if the wood would preserve the secrets his words were revealing. “I am honored by your presence in my house. My beloved Lucy would join us,” he said pointing at the ceiling and the upstairs rooms, “but is indisposed at the moment.” Seeing the alarm in Mary’s eyes, he waved his hand to extinguish any thought of a serious illness. “Indisposed in a blessed way. We are expecting our second child and Lucy is experiencing some discomfort. Nothing more.”
He collapsed with a grateful groan into a large wooden wing backed chair and unbuttoned his vest. “Captain Hadley and his bride have been let into our confidence about Elisabeth and your role in conveying the vital information she had gleaned about the perfidious mission of the dragoons.” He bowed his head toward Mary in acknowledgment. “Which thankfully was unsuccessful due to your daring efforts in January.”
Emboldened by the knowledge she had proven her worth to the patriotic cause, Mary began before the General could resume. “Now, it is I who must ask for your assistance in fulfilling the purpose of this visit by myself and the others, all Quaker ladies whose husbands have been unjustly imprisoned these long winter months.” She made the case for why these prominent men were no threat and how, by acting toward them with decency and justice, it could enhance support for the cause among the Quaker community.
“Madam,” General Knox acknowledged when she had finished. “If it were in my power to do so, they would be freed immediately. However, they were arrested by a civilian authority and I doubt whether General Washington will usurp that authority.” He saw the look of disappointment on her face and leaned forward and grasped her two hands. “I acknowledge, we and many brave men at Princeton owe you a deep debt of gratitude. I will bring to General Washington’s attention your role. I am certain he will write a letter to the appropriate civilian authorities, in as strong terms as possible, urging they act as you so fervently desire.”
When they left the next morning, the other ladies were despondent.
“All we have achieved for our efforts is a pass from General Washington to journey the next fifty miles to Lancaster with no favorable word from him to the Supreme Executive Council,” Elizabeth Drinker said.
“I am fearful,” Phebe Pemberton added, “any words of kindness and sympathy we may receive from the members of the Council will be from their teeth outwards and all our travels will be for nought.”
Mary could not reveal the encouragement she had received from General Knox, nor the obligation she felt General Washington would recognize. “I advise us to remain of good cheer. There is no telling what correspondence General Washington has forwarded to the Council on our behalf.”
The women fell into easy conversation about their impressions of Martha Washington and the bearing and composure of the General himself. Every now and then, one of them would digress and discuss
the struggle in managing their husband’s business affairs, the recalcitrance of a warehouse tenant in timely paying the rent, or maintaining the household, and the atmosphere would become somber with the thought of facing these continuing difficulties without their spouses.
Their resolve was sorely tested after the second day. Their fourhorse coach became mired in mud. The ladies had to disembark and climb fences in their skirts to circumvent a particularly bad stretch. The delay caused them to spend the night in less than favorable circumstances at the home of a farm family. The coachman and two Negroes slept in the barn with the horses.
They arrived in Lancaster the following morning, not in the best of spirits. In the late afternoon they met with Timothy Matlock, who claimed to have the ear of the Council and was sympathetic to their request for a meeting. The following day, they met with one of the Councillors, and the day after with another. Both men uttered supportive words and expressed concern. They held out the possibility of an appearance before the entire Supreme Council.
Two more days passed and the women despaired. “I do believe the Council will not give us a hearing,” Elizabeth declared. “We must consider journeying on to York where the Congress sits and plead our case to them.”
“Those gentlemen may be engaged in more important matters and reluctant as well to interfere in a trouble within the jurisdiction of the Pennsylvania Council,” Phebe observed. “We should wait one more day at least, before embarking on such a venture.”
“Well, I for one, do not intend to sit idly in Lancaster where members of the Council are about. I will proceed to town after breakfast and scour the meeting places for them, in hope a chance encounter will prove fruitful.”
“I will go with you, Elizabeth,” Phebe said.
“And I, too,” Susanna chimed in.
Spies and Deserters Page 11
