Time Enough for Drums (16 page)

He turned. “Jem? Is it really you?”

I ran to him, slipping on the frozen ground.

“Be careful, Jem. Don’t fall.” His voice was older, huskier, more confident. Oh, how could he be confident in the middle of all this?

I ran across the frozen ground into his arms.

Both of my brothers crossed the river within the next hour. There was scarcely time for Dan and Betsy to have a few moments together and for him to visit with Mother and Father.

Scarcely time for him to tell the Moores that he’d had to leave Raymond north of New Brunswick at the house of a farmer and his wife, for Raymond had fallen ill with dysentery and fever. He gave the Moores the name of the farmer and told them where he lived.

Mother and Lucy gave him the bread and meat they had brought, and he shared it with his men, along with the blankets and blanket coats. Father’s voice was low and sad when he told Dan that there hadn’t been any shoes in his shop to bring. I know he considered it a personal failure.

The crossings continued far into the night and the afternoon of the next day while we stayed in our house. Father closed his shop, the first time I ever remember him doing so.

“What good is a shop,” he said, “when I couldn’t supply my son and his men with what they needed?”

At supper that night there was a knock on the door. Father went to answer it and came back to the dining room with Stacy Potts.

“Did thee not hear the music?” Mr. Potts asked.

“No,” Mother answered, “we have been in the house all day.”

“Oh yes,” he said, “the British and Hessians came into town with much music and display. They came shortly after the last of the Americans crossed the river a few hours ago.”

Hessians! Paid soldiers from Germany hired by George the Third! I drew in my breath. Lucy had told me stories about the Hessians. She said that Hessian grenadiers had killed more American soldiers than any other Hessian unit on American soil!

“Would you sit and sup with us, Mr. Potts?” Mother asked calmly.

“Thank thee, no, ma’am. It has been a tiring day.” He
smiled and winked at my father. “The Americans, James, met them with a shower of grapeshot from across the river.”

My father nodded in solemn approval.

“But I will not keep thee from thy supper.” He hesitated. Then, “James, these will be difficult days for us all when the town is occupied.”

“I’ve given it much thought, Stacy.”

“I know my Patriotism has been in question since I refused to take the oath to the Cause.”

“I know your Quaker faith forbids oaths, Stacy. We have no doubts as to your Patriotism.”

“Thee is kind. I would hope thee has no doubts in the days to come.”

“And why should I, Stacy?”

“My house has already been inspected as a possible headquarters for the Hessian commander, Johann Gottlieb Rall. If he chooses to occupy it, I will be an impartial and gracious host.”

“There is nothing else you can do, Stacy.”

He nodded, bowed to my mother, and went with my father to the door. When my father came back he looked at us. “Stacy Potts is one of the most prosperous and decent men in town. His house is probably the most commodious. I know him to be a true friend and Patriot. I’ll hear nothing in the way of disparaging remarks about him if they occupy his house.”

“We’ll include him in our evening prayers, James,” Mother said.

Colonel Johann Rall rode into town on the twelfth with his five hundred grenadiers. They had fierce mustaches and arrived marching to a brass band. From our windows I could see Hessians in the street, going in and out of the houses on Queen, houses that had belonged to our friends. It made me angry seeing these black-uniformed men in our town. Father, who went to his shop that morning, said they called themselves Knyphausen and that they were in the village school and Presbyterian church. He told me I was not to go out of the house.

I did not see why I should be a prisoner in my own town. So when he went back to the shop after his noon meal and Mama and Lucy were busy, I slipped out. No one bothered me as I ventured forth, and so I went on and before I knew it I was strolling through most of the town. When I got back, it was almost suppertime and Father met me in the hall. “Where have you been?”

“I just went for a little walk, Father.”

“Didn’t I tell you not to go out?” He looked so fierce, his face was flushed. His hair nearly stood on end.

“But this is our town. We can’t let—”

Before I had finished he was grasping my shoulders with both hands, shaking me roughly. “If you go outside this house again without permission, I’ll take a birch rod to you! I’ve half a mind to do it now! When will you learn to obey?”

I saw more fear than anger in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Father,” I said. “I won’t do it again.” Mother and Lucy hovered behind him.

“I never was strict enough with you, Jemima Emerson,” he said, “and now I rue the day!” He released me. I ran to Mama, who put her arm around me. “She’ll obey you, James. Won’t you, Jem?”

I nodded, but he strode in to supper without looking at me. At the table he said that people who came into the shop had told him the Jaegers, who wore green uniforms trimmed with red, were at the old French and Indian War barracks down near the river. He would go to his shop every day, he said, for if he didn’t, they might ransack it. He had heard that the Knyphausen regiment was using the parsonage of Dr. Elihu Spencer and ripping into his book collection to light fires and clean their boots.

The next morning Father came in from milking Silly, our cow, whom Mother had originally named Priscilla. “Jemima, you’ve not fed the chickens yet.”

“I thought I’d do it after breakfast, Father.”

“Do it now. It’s a simple enough task, yet you can’t seem to remember to do it. Well, go on.”

It had been my job since David and Cornelius had left. I couldn’t see the fuss over a few straggly chickens. Yet he was determined not to let up on me, it seemed. “But Father—”

“Are you about to give me an argument?”

“No, sir.”

“Then go!”

I put on my blanket-coat and went out into the cold. I thought his anger was all out of proportion. Then I thought it was probably the news he’d received yesterday, that the Hessians had two brass three-pounder guns in the churchyard of St. Michael’s. I hated going into the barn without Bleu there and I sorely missed Chauncy the goat, who used to nibble at my petticoat in greeting. I squinted my eyes in the dimness. There were Romeo and Juliet, Father’s faithful carriage horses, and old Silly, all munching their breakfasts.

I was just about inside the door when I felt someone grab my wrist. I cried out, but a hand was clapped over my mouth. I thrashed my free arm around, but then both my wrists were secured behind my back.

Fear knifed through me. I kicked, but he was too strong for me. A Hessian! I screamed, but the sound died in my throat. I kicked again.

“Ow! You little devil! You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” He laughed his old familiar laugh, and a surge of relief went through me. John!

But I couldn’t say his name. His hand was still over my mouth, and with the other still gripping my wrists behind me he led me into the shadows. “Ssh. You must promise to speak in whispers before I release you.”

I nodded agreeably and he let me go. “John, what are you—”

“Shush. Must I shush you?” And he did then, by drawing me to him and kissing me. I shushed very nicely then for a few minutes, struck dumb by the wonder of his kisses, the look in his eyes, the wonder of
him
, standing there whole
and alive. Tears came as I reached up to touch his dear face. He looked drawn, tired, and lean. He had grown a beard, too.

“John, what are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to see you,” he teased maddeningly.

“You
know
what I mean!”

“I’m working.”

“Do be serious.”

“But I am. See?” And he motioned to a bundle at his feet. “I have my paper and supplies. I’m still writing for the Tory newspaper. And I peddle a little tobacco on the side. It’s an easy way to get into an enemy camp. The Hessians are always eager for a smoke. I have a letter of introduction and safe passage from the British authorities, along with a copy of my loyalty oath to the King. The American army has a price on my head.”

“John!”

He smiled. “It’s to complete my disguise. I’ve built a reputation as a fine writer for Tory newspapers. And I sell nothing but the best tobacco. Your father has promised to be out of it for the next day or so in his shop.”

“Father knows you are here?”

“Weren’t you told to come out and feed the chickens?” He smiled more widely now, flashing his fine white teeth. Oh Lord, how I’d missed him! “He was provoked when you hadn’t done so yet. I see they still need me to keep you in line.”

“Will you be serious?”

“All right. When he came out to milk Silly and found me, he went right back inside and got some fresh-baked bread and cured ham. While I ate, he told me what he knows of the troops in town.”

“You’re working for Washington.”

He made a deep bow. “He needed someone with a Tory reputation who knew the town. The Tories here would point out a stranger. But I’m well known. I left loyal to the Crown and I’ve come back the same way. Now you must recite some lessons for me.”

I gaped. “At a time like this?”

“Yes.” And he took my hands and led me to sit on a bale of hay. “Your father says you might add to what he told me. I understand you slipped out of the house against his wishes yesterday afternoon and took a nice long walk.” He was scowling, the way he used to do when I’d been naughty.

“Yes,” I admitted.

“My ever-disobedient little pupil. This one time I’m grateful, but you mustn’t disobey your father again. Suppose I had been a Hessian grabbing you just now? Do you know what would have happened to you?”

I blushed but did not answer.

“Well? Do you?” he insisted.

“Yes, John. I won’t do it again. I promise.”

“Good. Now, can you tell me what you saw on that nice long walk? Are there any British in town?”

“Twenty of them at the Friends Meeting House on Third Street.”

“Good. Excellent. Any others?”

“No. Everyone else is Hessian. They’re horrible-looking, John.”

“Yes, they are. Where is the artillery? Can you remember?”

I thought for a moment. “At the Methodist church. And our own English church. The Hessians hold over a dozen buildings below the Assunpink Creek, and they’re even out on the Penny Town Road. I couldn’t help noticing things.”

“I’m glad you did. You always had a sharp mind, Jem.
But don’t let your curiosity or your sauciness get you into trouble. You’re in an occupied town now. You must be careful and mind your parents. One more thing. Have you noticed any of the enemy building boats?”

I shook my head firmly. “No, but yesterday Colonel Rail had a parade. He ordered the cannon to be drawn forth and his musicians played the French horns and trumpets and drums, and all his officers made a grand entrance. They say he’s quite mad over music and pomp. But oh, how long for the sound of our fifes and drums.”

He kissed my forehead tenderly. “You’ll hear them soon again, I promise.”

“John, David, and Cornelius have joined with Washington. And Raymond Moore is very ill and close to dying nan had to leave him north of New Brunswick.”

“Now aren’t you glad you wrote to him as long as you could?”

“Yes. If I could get a letter through, I’d write now. Would you mind terribly?”

“I would mind if you didn’t. Now listen to me. You are not to tell your mother or Lucy that I’m here. I’ll be in town today, then back across the river.”

“And will you be back?”

“I don’t know. I do as I’m told, as should you. I’m not the only agent working for Washington. Are you doing your reading?”

“Oh, John!” I giggled. He took my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You have done very well with your lessons today.”

Tears came to my eyes. He held me close. “Go inside now before your mother gets concerned. Or your father wonders why I’ve kept you for so long. I’ll continue to place ads in the
Gazette
so you’ll know I’m still alive.”

Saturday, the fourteenth, Sunday, and Monday were very quiet. Then on Tuesday the British sent a patrol out to Penny Town, north of Trenton. They were fired upon and one soldier was wounded. Father said it was General Philemon Dickinson’s militia who fired, Americans who lived in the area. They struck the British at random and disappeared again into the woods.

That same day the Pennsylvania militia landed thirty men at the ferry picket post Rall had set up south of town. They harassed the Hessians with gunfire and withdrew across the river.

“At least Washington isn’t just sitting there across the river,” Father said. He was elated.

Wednesday morning we were awakened by cannon fire at dawn. It echoed in the distance, carried on the brittle morning air. That evening Father came in from the shop to tell us a landing party of fifty men had attacked the Jaegers at the ferry picket post and withdrawn to the other side of the river.

Thursday morning dawned bright and clear. Father was
in a cheery mood. “Would you like to come with me to see the Moores today, Jem? I think we should pay a visit to our neighbors and see how they’re faring.”

Father and I had a nice visit at the Moores’, but I came home sneezing and with a raspy throat. Mother fussed over me and declared I was feverish. Father said I should have a bowl of Lucy’s soup and go right to bed. I protested, but he scowled sternly.

“I want to sup with your mama alone,” he said. “I have much to talk about.”

I heard him telling her that the Moores wanted to travel to find Raymond but could not leave their farm. But I thought there was some other matter pressing him, for I’d seen him and Mr. Moore huddled together before we left.

“I’m glad thee responded to my word to come,” Mr. Moore had said, “and I’m glad I could act as intermediary.”

Something sinister was going on, I was sure of it. Lucy fed me and gave me one of Mama’s concoctions for fever, although I had been in a state of fever since John Reid had shown up. But I couldn’t tell her that.