Time Enough for Drums (18 page)

But it was his helmet that frightened me the most. It was made of black leather with red horsehair streaming out from a silver comb on top. On the front plate was the letter
C
and underneath it was written “The Queen’s.”

He bowed when he saw us and took his helmet off in one sweeping gesture. He was very blond. But before he got a chance to talk, Lucy ran and knelt at his feet.

“Sir, we are two women alone. The Hessians have terrorized us and frightened this poor child, who so recently lost her father. I ask you, sir, I beg you, if you consider
yourself civilized, to have mercy on two women whose men have been taken by the war. Restore civility to this Christian home. Allow us to conduct ourselves in a dignified manner and proceed unharmed, and your stay will be most comfortable.”

I couldn’t believe those words were coming out of Lucy! The sun streamed in on the fair hair of the handsome young British officer as he looked down on her. He reached out and touched her shoulder. “Where is your mistress?”

“She is with friends, sir. She is bereaved and in shock after the death of her husband. But I am a free woman.”

“Get on your feet. I want no woman kneeling before me, free or otherwise.”

Lucy stood.

“Who, then, is the mistress of this house?”

“Jemima Emerson.” Lucy turned toward me. “I am in her employ.”

He drew himself to attention, with his strange black helmet tucked under one arm. “Miss, may I present myself. I am Captain Andrew Bygrave of the Sixteenth Light Dragoons. I apologize for the intrusion and offer condolences for the death of your father and for the wanton destruction of your house. I shall have the Hessians come back to restore it to its former condition. We are stationed at the Friends Meeting House, but my commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel William Harcourt, requests the use of your home for a day and a night. He needs a warm fire, some decent food, and a place of quietude to confer with his officers. In return, on my word as an officer in His Majesty’s army, I promise you the right to move about freely. You and your maidservant shall be accorded the utmost respect and protection.”

He finished his speech and waited. I studied the handsome
face, but his feelings were well concealed.

“You can’t be more than twenty,” I said.

“I was at Brooklyn Heights and White Plains, miss. I’ve seen my share of fighting.”

“I have a brother your age. He’s away fighting. But the last I saw him, he looked very ragged. You have fine clothes and boots. I have a dear friend who is close to death in north Jersey, who was on the retreat with Washington.”

“I’m deeply sorry for that, miss.”

“How can you be? How can you know how it feels to have someone you have cared about and grown up with, dying?”

“I believe I do somewhat, miss. I lost my brother at Breed’s Hill.”

I didn’t know what to say then. And for the first time I saw a flicker of emotion in his face.

“You may stay,” I said. “You’re probably better than the Hessians. Although that remains to be seen.”

He bowed again and relaxed. “Do you have any food, miss? Could your maidservant fetch me a bit of breakfast? And perhaps, later, some supper for my commanding officer? We’re a long way from home, and it is Christmas Day.”

I had forgotten that it was Christmas Day! Had my family been home we would have gone to church and had a fine feast afterward. I couldn’t help remembering last Christmas when Mama and Lucy had prepared food for days and Raymond Moore had asked me to write to him and John Reid had toasted me. How long ago it seemed!

At ten that morning, after he had breakfasted, our young captain was about to leave for parade-and-inspection when there was a knock on the door. He answered it. I heard him talking for a moment; then he came to the kitchen, where
I was helping Lucy with the cooking.

“A note for you, miss. Delivered by Mr. Potts’s servant.”

I stared at it, shaking. From John? Impossible! Who, then? I accepted the note, and he stood and waited while I read it.

It was from the Moores. They had received word that Raymond had died. Mr. Moore was on his way north to bring home the body. My mother was doing fine, they wrote, and soon I would be able to come and see her. Ruth and Betsy would care for the place until Mr. Moore returned.

I crumpled it up, the tears coming down my face. The young captain stepped forward. “May I be of help?”

“What is it, child?” Lucy asked. I gave the note to her.

“I’m all right,” I told Captain Bygrave. “My friend, the one I told you about, has died.”

“I’m so very sorry. If there is anything I can do …”

“Do?” I stared at him. “You’ve done it all! You have done all you can do. To all of us!”

He stepped back, white-faced, as if I had struck him. He turned on his heel and walked out.

True to his word, the Hessians returned and straightened the house while he was gone. When he came back at two with his commanding officer and two brother officers, the house was in order and the Hessians were gone. The officers went straight to the parlor, where Lucy had a fire laid. When she went in to bring brandy and a light repast, I followed and got a glimpse of them lounging on our chairs, their fine red coats open in front.

“God, this is a finely appointed house,” I heard one of them say. “Makes one feel almost civilized again.”

I ran back to the kitchen and kneaded my dough. Tears
were falling from my face a few moments later when the captain appeared.

“I wish to speak to Miss Emerson.”

Lucy nodded, and he came to the table. “You’re crying. I’ll leave if my presence so distresses you.”

“It isn’t you. I mean, not you yourself. It’s just …”

“I understand. I came to ask if you would sup with us this evening. My commanding officer wishes me to ask.”

“I think not.”

“It is Christmas Day. You would honor us.”

“I don’t wish to honor you, sir.”

I saw him quickly conceal the disappointment in his face. He bowed slightly. “If there is anything I can do for you, please let me know.” He started to walk away.

“Captain.”

“Yes?”

“You could. A little matter. But it would mean much to me.”

“Well?”

“You have a horse in our barn.”

“We took the freedom of stabling our horses in your barn, yes.”

“If I could pay him a visit.”

He frowned.

“I had a horse and we had to send him away. I miss him dearly. We have our carriage horses but they aren’t the same. I could bring yours some dried apple.”

I saw the hint of a smile in his face. “My horse is in the last stall,” he said. Then he turned and left.

His horse was black, and I was surprised to see that it was fully harnessed. It whinnied and nuzzled me as I approached, grateful for companionship. I gave it dried apple and patted its silken head.

“Where did you come from?” I murmured. The closeness of it, its sounds and smells, all reminded me of Bleu. I stood patting it, letting the hot tears come down my face. From where I stood, I could see the officers having their after-supper coffee in the light of the oil lamps in our parlor.

I wanted my father to be in the parlor. I wanted to go in and find him there with my mother and John Reid.

“Did you come all the way across the sea to visit me?” Talking to the horse eased my misery.

“He came on a horse boat. The trip took four months. And the rotting transport I came over on was not much better.”

The young British officer was standing, hatless, his coat open, a glass of wine in his hand, watching me rather unsteadily. I felt a shiver of fear. He was not yet drunk but had a pleasant sort of haziness about him. He moved closer.

“We’re both here only since July, in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t.”

“I’ve been drinking, yes. It eases my misery, but you needn’t be afraid. I’ve no intention of harming you.”

“I wasn’t afraid.”

“Yes, you were. I saw it in your eyes a moment ago. You’re heard stories about us ravishing women. Don’t you think, if I were going to ravish you, I would have tried it already?”

I said nothing.

“I’m not the kind who ravishes women. Anyway, I’ve a sister your age. She’s a dear child, and I hadn’t realized how much I missed her until I met you.”

“I have two brothers. And I miss them every day.”

We fell silent.

“What’s your horse’s name?” I asked.

“Cicero.”

“Why do you keep him fully harnessed?”

“Orders. We must be in readiness at all times. Colonel Rall has been advised that the Americans might attack, but he considers it old women’s talk. Still, we must be in readiness.”

The Americans attack! I felt a thrill, but I kept my voice normal. “His blanket is very handsome.”

“Did you ride your horse much when you had him?”

“Every day. My grandfather gave him to me. He’s away now, helping to put down an Indian uprising.”

“This is a strange and wild country. Sometimes I wonder what in God’s name I’m doing here, thousands of miles from home.”

“It’s a fine country. It’s ours and we … we mean to keep it,” I told him firmly. “You’ll find that out.”

“My, you’re a dyed-in-the-wool Rebel, aren’t you?”

“I just wanted to tell you what to expect.”

“I know what to expect. The Americans can fight. They’ve simply had a streak of bad luck. I heard what they did at Breed’s Hill. Anyone who underestimates them is a fool.”

“Have your superiors underestimated them?”

He drained his glass of wine. “General Howe was advised at Long Island that Washington was retreating, and he took his sweet time before giving orders to advance. And Cornwallis had orders from Howe not to advance beyond New Brunswick. Howe was content to keep East Jersey. Then Cornwallis delayed seventeen hours at Princeton when he should have been pursuing Washington. He took a whole day to march twelve hours to Trenton. Had he not delayed, we would have had the Americans before they crossed the river.”

He looked at me darkly, “Your precious army is safe across
the river, either because Howe is a fool or he takes special delight in allowing Washington to elude him. And Rall is an ass. Early this week he was told about the movements of the American army. He said, ‘Let them come.’ ”

I could scarcely breathe lest it break the spell. He was leaning against the stall, quite miserable.

“I don’t mind being here in a strange land. Even though I know I’ll probably die here as my brother did. I don’t mind that it’s an unpopular war at home, that you Americans have many sympathizers in Parliament. What I mind is fighting under commanders whose pride comes first, over common sense.”

He stood straight and looked at me. “I could be court-martialed for what I just said to you.”

“You could only be court-martialed if it’s repeated.”

“I’m loyal to my King.” There were tears in his eyes.

“I’m sure you are.”

He smiled at me and I smiled back. “I’m sorry for what I said about this being a strange and wild country.”

“And I’m sorry for how I offended you this morning when you offered me your sympathy.”

“We’re even, then.”

“It is a strange and wild country. But we are very civilized. You should meet my sister. She’s most proper. You’d like her.”

“I like you.” He said it so low that I could barely hear it. I was numb with shock. John Reid had known me over two years before he’d uttered those words.

“I’ve offended you.”

“You must understand. I have brothers and someone I care for, off fighting. My father was killed by the Hessians. I shouldn’t even be here talking to you.”

“But you are.”

Yes, I was. I thought of John and what he would say, how he would scold me for getting into something again. The thought of him made my head clear. The young captain had been kind. I didn’t hate him as I supposed I should. There was no sense in lying to myself. There for a moment I’d been drawn to him. How
could
I? How could I be so despicable? It made no sense.

But how could he be the enemy and be kind? That made less sense than anything. “I must go in,” I said.

“I’ve made you uncomfortable. But I wanted you to know that our being on opposite sides doesn’t preclude my having … feelings for you. I find American girls have a spirit and honesty about them that is most refreshing.”

“Then let me be honest, sir, and say that I appreciate your kindness and your decency and shall remember you always for it. But now I must go in.”

He bowed, took my arm, and walked me to the house.

I had just gone to my chamber at eight o’clock when there was a great commotion in the street, with men shouting and running. Someone pounded on our door. I ran into the hall to hear Lieutenant Colonel Harcourt and the British captain discussing it.

“… a raid at the picket post on Penny Town Road. Four wounded,” I heard Harcourt say.

Lucy came upstairs, shushing me and pushing me back into my chamber. “Could be an attack. Leastways that’s what they is sayin’. We stay in here.”

I looked out my window to see the British dragoons mounted on their horses. They conferred for a moment and rode off. The young captain rode his horse very well.

The street outside settled under the silence of thick, falling snow. I woke in a few hours to hear the British come back in with a clamor. One of them cursed. Another yelled. “By God, it’s still Christmas! Let’s have a toast!”

I lay in bed listening to them toast King George the
Third. Next they toasted the British Parliament. Then they toasted General Howe.

The attack must have been a false alarm, Lucy said. I could barely contain my disappointment. But I slept again. And this time I didn’t wake until an hour after dawn, when the real attack began.

I was awakened by the clock in the hall chiming and a cannon going off in the muffled distance. The clock stopped, but the cannon didn’t.

I jumped out of bed, half dazed. The cannon went off again, closer. I felt it sound in my bones.

Where was Lucy? The next thing I knew she was gliding toward me in the half light. “Get dressed.”