“I am very pleased to see you again Adam. I was with Reverend Pence and his family in Hackensack until the General sent word he would be at his winter camp here and required my services.”
He sensed she was distraught and there was more to tell. “Were you mistreated by the Reverend?” Adam inquired, the concern evident in his voice.
“No. Not that. The Reverend is a gentleman. I was welcome at their home and well provided for.” She sighed. “Oh, Adam. I see no end to my miserable situation.”
He tried to reassure her. “I promised to help you purchase your freedom and I will. Some of my friends are officers who may be willing to lend me some sums which they know I will repay.” Adam regretted blurting out the thought. His officer friends, even if inclined to do so, had no money for their own families and certainly no excess funds to lend him.
Sarah’s shoulders sagged and she began to sob. He tried to console her, putting his arm around her and was pleased when she leaned her head against him. He let her cry, thinking of where else he could obtain the money. Fifty-three pounds was not an exorbitant sum.
“Adam,” she said. “You are most kind and generous and I know you would do your utmost for me. It is that,” she paused dabbing at her eyes, “it is no longer possible.”
“What is not possible?” he demanded angrily.
“Reverend Pence. He has taken note that I serve as cook to General Washington and have even worked for the Marquis de Lafayette.” Adam smiled as the title rolled easily from her lips. “I have learned more French and am adept enough to converse, which I did with Mrs. Pence. The Reverend overheard.”
“I do not understand,” Adam said.
“Reverend Pence believes I am now more valuable. I heard him say to his wife that after we win the war, many people in New Jersey and even New York, would pay top dollar to have as their cook a woman who prepared meals for General Washington or could teach their children French.” She started to cry again. “He is proud of my accomplishments. By my own efforts, I have increased my worth as his property. He now states he will not grant me my freedom for less than two hundred pounds and believes he could sell me to some fine gentle family for at least that amount.”
Adam clenched his fists. “That greedy sanctimonious scoundrel. I would grab him by the throat and shake him until he begged for his life.”
“No, Adam. Violence is not the answer. I will continue to work for General Washington. We must trust somehow my situation will improve.”
“Improve?” he shouted. “How may it improve? Your good Reverend most likely will raise the price of your freedom again. And then again. You are his property Sarah. No matter how kindly he treats you.” Adam saw a few of the Lifeguards on sentry duty turn and stare at them.
“There is a way,” Adam said, lowering his voice. “There has to be. I will find it and you will be free forever. I promise you that upon my life.”
They walked back toward the Wallace House, the building looming ahead in the dark, the windows cheerily lit with candles.
“Sarah,” he said taking her hands in his. “Remember my promise. And promise me in return your trust in me will endure and you will wait for me.”
“Adam. What will you do? What will happen to you?”
“Promise me Sarah. Please promise me.”
“I promise you.” And the look of concern in her green eyes and what he took as love was enough to assure him she meant it.
Will, mounted on Big Red, felt a surge of elation as he came upon the familiar road to Pluckemin. The horse seemed as exhilarated as his rider, this clear cold February afternoon, splashing across the shallows of the Raritan River. Ahead of them, twenty dragoons trotted along in pairs, assigned by General Knox to escort his family from Philadelphia. Will recognized the terrain and knew they were close. Behind him in the first carriage were Elisabeth, Mrs. Knox and her two children, newly born Julia and little Lucy. The second carriage contained Catherine Greene, wife of General Nathaniel Greene, now Quartermaster General of the Army, and two of her lady friends. And bringing up the rear were three wagons, piled with trunks containing clothes, household goods, dishes, glasses and silver, foodstuffs, casks of ale and bottles of wine for the General’s table.
The Knox family was staying at the Vanderveer House, Mr. Vanderveer having graciously agreed to rent most of his home to the Knoxes for the General’s Headquarters and residence. Captain Samuel Hadley and Mercy had leased a nearby stone building from Vanderveer. It had one fireplace in the kitchen for warmth and cooking and two bedrooms upstairs. Will and Elisabeth were sharing the house with the Hadleys. They were compatible with each other, an important matter in close quarters. Since joining the Army in April of ‘76, with few exceptions, Will had never lived anywhere other than a barracks filled with soldiers or out in the open, or if he was lucky, in a white canvas tent. And certainly never with women. He permitted himself a smile that turned into a broad grin. Sharing meals with Elisabeth at his side, seeing her when he returned to the Lewises, and lying together in bed at night no longer seemed strange but a source of constant pleasure and even wonder. He could not imagine himself being any happier than he was now. And this being February, they would remain together at least through May or even June before the Army took to the field again.
The location of their snug quarters was within the fences of the Vandeveer property and adjacent to the Dutch Reformed Church. Hadley mirthfully had named it the Hadley-Stoner Mansion. Its proximity to the Knoxes allowed Elisabeth to easily assist Mrs. Knox with the children at any time of day or night. The General had ridden on ahead of his family to consult with General Washington at Middlebrook on some matter involving the Congress.
However, Mercy was there to greet them, and while she showed Elisabeth to their new home, Will together with the wagon drivers unloaded the trunks of clothing and necessaries, transporting them up the central wood stairway and depositing them as directed by Mrs. Knox. The barrels were stored in the cellar and two filled with wine were driven off to General Washington’s headquarters at Middlebrook, a gift from General Knox to his Commander. Samuel Hadley joined them after his session at the Academy, and together they enjoyed a late but plain dinner with Mrs. Knox in the Vanderveer dining room.
The following morning, despite the drizzle, Will commanded a three gun battery in the standard drills for maneuvering field artillery. Inside the Academy’s classroom, with the odor of the officers’ uniforms smelling like wet sheep, he tried to follow the Preceptor’s lecture on geometric concepts of gunnery and gun quadrants. The dry New England accent of Mr. Colles reminded Will of Sergeant Merriam. His mind wandered to the promontory below Dorchester Heights where Merriam had fired a ball from The Albany that had disabled a floating British battery. As he left the Academy in a crowd of officers he was lost in his memories of the good Sergeant and his frequent quoting of bible verses. We went through much together, Will thought, smiling at the image of his old Sergeant lecturing him after he had attacked that foppish Captain for insulting Elisabeth. And now, Elisabeth was his wife. He smiled. What a joy for him every day.
The sentry outside the Vanderveer House saw Will heading to his quarters and hailed him. “Sir. General Knox has given orders for you to attend to him the moment you return.”
Puzzled by the need for urgency, Will scraped the mud off his boots on the iron wedge and waited in the alcove off the center hall, together with others seeking a meeting. He gazed out of the window at the Hadley-Stoner Mansion and thought how pleasant it was to know that Elisabeth was inside, or perhaps in this same building, upstairs with Mrs. Knox, and, they would share their meal together.
When he entered the General’s office, Knox did not greet him jovially as he usually did and Hadley stood leaning grimly against the mantle.
“Captain Hadley has conveyed to me most distressing news, so painful as to cause me to question my judgment of men. One who was attached to my Regiment and performed all tasks assigned to him in good soldierly fashion.” He
nodded to Samuel who straightened his back as if to deliver a death sentence to a condemned man.
“Private Cooper has deserted.”
“Adam?” Will said incredulously. “It is not possible.” “Two nights ago, he was arrested by the General’s Lifeguards
for causing a disturbance outside of Headquarters. At first the Guard thought he was only drunk,” Hadley added. “Adam persisted in calling on His Excellency to free the slaves in his employ, and when he refused to be silent, he was placed in the prison hut.”
Will turned pale, recalling Adam’s confession to him that one day he would run away with Sarah and kill anyone who tried to stop them, even General Washington himself.
“Yesterday,” Hadley continued, “he was no better, refusing an offer of release for his promise to cease these unseemly disturbances before Wallace House.”
“Even worse, ” Knox continued in his deep voice, for once low in tone in light of the gravity of the matter. “Last night, he overpowered the two guards when they brought him his food. I am told he broke the arm of one, took a musket and knife, eluded the sentries’ challenge and has disappeared.”
“It cannot be,” Will stammered. “Adam has endured as much as I, we have fought alongside each other. He saved my life in Boston,” Will’s voice trailed off with incomprehension.
“A mounted patrol is in pursuit and if he is captured, he may very well be executed as an example to deter others who may be tempted to desert,” Knox said. “I will do my best to appeal for a lighter punishment but General Washington has expressed strong concern before about the rate of desertions and promised the severest penalties.”
“Sir. I do not believe that Adam deserted our cause to join the Loyalists. Until I hear his explanation from his own lips, I have faith there is another reason for his conduct.”
Knox scowled and then his expression softened. “It is an admirable human trait to remain loyally steadfast to one’s friends. One day we may learn his reasons. I hope they dispel the appearances of his desertion. However, for the moment we must assume he will relate to the British his knowledge of our camp, the guard and routine at the Wallace House, and the recent mission I assigned him with Captain Holmes to the ports in Southern New Jersey.”
Will shook his head vehemently. “He will not for a moment give up that information.” No, Will realized with dread, but he might accept payment for it from the British, money with which to buy Sarah’s freedom. He was no longer so certain of his friend’s motivations. Still, he secretly wished Adam well and hoped he escaped unharmed.
Chapter 13- Confidences in New York and Secrets at Pluckemin
During his first few weeks in New York City, John Stoner shared quarters on lower Broadway with Lieutenant Chatsworth and four other dragoon officers. Chatsworth, with the aid of Colonel Harcourt, had reasserted their claim on the merchant McDougall’s home, their previous quarters when the 16th Dragoons were in New York. In doing so, they made enemies of a few of the officers of the 42nd Highlanders, a Grenadier Regiment they displaced. John, along with Chatsworth and the dragoon officers, ignored the angry scowls of the grenadiers, when the two groups found themselves dining in the same long room at Fraunces Tavern.
With the influx of the British Army and the desperate Loyalists who had fled Philadelphia, New York City’s population had increased overnight by more than half. Over thirty thousand souls crowded its streets, the higher-ranking officers and their staff, the wealthy merchants, bankers and ship owners living in luxury at the tip of Manhattan Island in fine red brick Georgian mansions.
The less fortunate, newly arrived mechanics and tradesmen, the poorer sort of Loyalists, and former slaves attracted by the promise of freedom, were crammed into shanties and shacks on the City’s west side, shoddily rebuilt after the great fire of ‘76, ignited, as everyone knew, by the retreating Americans. These poor masses provided a cheap workforce for the wharves and shipyards on the East River, where the tall masts of frigates and ships of the line swayed above the smaller merchant vessels filled with all manner of cargo from the Caribbean and the latest luxury items from England. Coastal traders brought foodstuffs and live animals from the farms of southern New Jersey and Pennsylvania, preferring the hard currency of the British to feed its army in New York, to the worthless Continentals offered in Philadelphia.
With no specific duties or assignments, John spent time reacquainting himself with the city, prowling the streets, noting the ease with which people came across the East River from Brooklyn and beyond, the common laborers and tradesmen with unfettered access to lower Broadway and thus General Clinton’s own headquarters at No.1, and the nearby home of Mayor David Matthews. His instincts told him, while he was observing and gathering his own intelligence, this dross could be parlayed into the gold of a prominent inside position.
He cajoled Joseph Galloway to provide an entrée to the civilian authorities. That avenue seemed closed due to the ossified nature of the existing administration. John believed better opportunities lay with the military. Despite Galloway’s constant complaints about the injustice of the seizure of his home and personal property by the Pennsylvania Government, John coddled his injured ego and squeezed every favorable recommendation and introduction from his former superior. Finally, these efforts led to a meeting with Major Pritchard on General Clinton’s staff, who had expressed an interest in John’s experience in ferreting out spies and sympathizers in Philadelphia.
John, through Chatsworth, hired a tailor who let out a seam here and there, fitted his newly cleaned red jacket and polished the buttons that still indicated he was attached to General Ruggles’s Loyalist Associators. He would have preferred brass buttons with a more prestigious insignia but these would have to do.
He and the Major met in a building on lower Broadway, not far from Clinton’s headquarters. Dust from the streets rose in clouds, churned up by marching patrols and carriages carrying well-turnedout ladies to their morning social engagements. John hastily brushed the front of his uniform with his palms and readjusted his jacket. He licked his lips nervously, thinking in a panic that if he were not retained in some capacity, he had no other attractive possibilities. After being announced by Pritchard’s orderly, he forced himself to calmly enter the room and took the seat the Major indicated. The desk between them was neat, with a stack of folders to one side, and a quill and inkwell, full John noted, in the middle. The Major was balding with his grey hair cut short on the top and curled over his ears. He had full almost feminine lips, a double chin and dark eyes, which, while not piercing, gazed at John intently. John wondered if the Major had obtained his position through family influence or merit. If I am to be assigned to his staff, he thought, he would find out more about him.
“Tell me of your achievements in Philadelphia, Lieutenant. I have heard reports from others but wish to hear from you directly.” Before John could utter a word, Pritchard added, “And no bragadaccio. Only fools engage in trumpeting their successes. My time is important and I do not wish to waste it on fools.”
John noted the accent of the British upper class and the patronizing tone. He smiled what he hoped was a relaxed grin and hoped his own accent had changed enough by mimicking Chatsworth and others to dispel any impression he was one of those uneducated Yankee Colonials.
“Yes sir. My initial activities when His Majesty’s troops occupied the Rebel capital were to improve the security around General Howe’s headquarters.” John described how he had created files on all who owned or lived in houses near the Commander, the Generals and their senior staff, created a network of informers to report any suspicious behavior and closely monitored those whose loyalties were suspect.
“I recognize the Army’s senior command has only recently arrived in the city. Without being critical of the efforts around His Excellency’s Headquarters and the other buildings on lower Broadway, permit me to say I personally have observed a certain laxness during the day, but especially at night, with all manner of ordinary people in
the vicinity.”
Pritchard shifted his portly figure in his chair, which creaked slightly. “Go on.”
“There have been whaleboats crossing the sound from Connecticut, seeking to capture prominent Loyalists. It would be an easy matter for some of these Rebel looters to disguise themselves as farmers, and on wagons come by ferry across the East River and attempt to kidnap, or worse, assassinate, the Army’s leaders.” John saw he had the Major’s attention.
“There are draymen, waggoners, carpenters and workmen of all sorts about day and night, unloading goods, doing this or that in the very buildings that house senior staff. They could be spies or sympathizers. Why yesterday, I even saw several Continental Officers on parole strolling up and down Broadway.”
“They have given their word they will neither attempt to escape nor engage in hostile acts.”
“Yes sir, but they have eyes and ears. Surely, when they are exchanged, they could report the routines of the guards outside General Clinton’s Headquarters, the entrances and exits to the building, vital information for raiders on a mission of kidnapping. Or assassination,” he added ominously.
“Gentlemen would not convey such information,” Pritchard said smugly. “Our own paroled officers when exchanged do no such thing. That is why we have spies.”
John sensed he had offended the Major’s sense of upper class superiority and quickly moved on.
“I have also employed spies to venture into the Rebel camp, then at Valley Forge, and used the intelligence I gathered for an attempted kidnapping of prominent Rebels at Princeton.” Both had ended in failure, but John was reasonably certain Pritchard would not know that.
“My charge is the security of General Clinton and others. External operations, as you have mentioned, are Major Drummond’s concern,” he said haughtily, inclining his head toward an adjacent office. Ah, John thought. That is a useful tidbit of information.
“I will ask General Ruggles to reassign you to my office,” Pritchard continued. “You will continue to draw your pay from his Regiment. Additional funds will be provided to you, as needed from this office. Present me with your plans with specificity both as to restricting access and this census, you mentioned, of owners and residents in the vicinity of the various headquarters. In four days time. I tolerate neither indolence nor excuses. Is that understood, Lieutenant Stoner?”
Spies and Deserters Page 24
