Dorothy's Spy/Chapter 8
CHAPTER VIII
THE CONFLAGRATION
When the two girls awakened next morning they had a very well-defined idea that the part played by them during the previous night would serve as a text for a severe lecture, and neither felt inclined to descend the stairs to the living room.
"Your father and mine will scold, I expect," Dorothy said with a sigh, as she halted near the kitchen door, "and then our mothers are almost certain to blame us, therefore this won't be a very pleasant day."
But young Mistress Dean was happily mistaken, for stirring news came so thick and fast that the gentlemen could spend no time on two children, however much the latter were at fault.
First, one of the neighbors came in while the family and the guests were at breakfast, to say that the statue of King George which had been pulled down the evening previous, was at that moment being carried into Connecticut on an ox cart, and the citizens had decided it should be melted into bullets for the use of the American army. That Master Oliver Wolcott had been given charge of the transportation and transformation, was sufficient guarantee the work would be done without loss of time.
Hardly had this information been given, when a messenger from the president of the Sons of Liberty arrived, with orders for Masters Dean and Lamb to join their associates at the regular meeting place, to the end that all, or as many as could be spared from their business, should take coaches for White Plains, where the Provincial Congress was assembled, because on this same afternoon the Declaration would be read to the members of that body for their approval.
Although the Congress at Philadelphia had adopted the resolutions of independence, it was necessary that the legislative body of each colony should pass upon it, and the members of the association to which Masters Dean and Lamb belonged, were determined that the law-makers of New York should be emphatic in their expressions of sympathy with the sentiments contained therein.
Mistress Lamb and Sarah remained guests in the Dean household until the maker of mathematical instruments returned to his home, and the ladies had but little time to reprove the girls for what had been done in aid of the spy, since all the women of the neighborhood called to sympathize with Mistress Dean because of the invasion by the mob.
Next day, when Sarah's father was ready to take her home, the children learned that the Provincial Congress at White Plains had listened to the reading of the Declaration with great interest, and, at the close pledged themselves to "sustain it at the risk of their lives and fortunes."
This pledge was proclaimed in White Plains by the beating of drums, and the members of the Congress ordered that the Declaration should be publicly read from the steps of the City Hall[1] in New York.
On the day following, which is to say on the twelfth of July, the frigates Rose and the Phoenix, from my lord Howe's fleet, sailed boldly up to the city, firing into the town and being fired upon as they entered the Hudson and anchored a a short distance above the town, to the alarm of all patriots and the joy of the Tories.
With so much of import happening, and the knowledge that the king's troops would soon make an attack, it is little wonder that the adventure with the spy was so nearly forgotten by the heads of the two families concerned, as hardly to be mentioned; but the girls spent many hours talking over the events of that evening, and wondering whether Lieutenant Oakman had any difficulty in finding the boat which he believed would be in waiting for him.
Then came the day of the second celebration of the adoption of the Declaration, which is to say, the eighteenth of July, and despite the disagreeable ending, so far as concerned the Dean and Lamb families, of the first celebration, it was resolved that the ladies, with the children, should be present.
The new costumes which Dorothy and Sarah had worn, much to the detriment of the garments, were cleansed, in so far as was possible, and while the girls did not present quite so brave an appearance as before, they were fully conscious of being well and becomingly dressed.
Of that day it has been written:[2]
"The public reading of the Declaration in New York, on July 18th, was one of the great events of the day. Almost the whole city came together and received each noble sentiment with resounding cheers, and on its conclusion a few daring spirits entered the court-room, brought out the royal coat of arms, and burned it in the street. All this was done, it must be remembered, in the face of a powerful enemy, for at that moment Putnam's vedettes might have counted, from their post on Columbia Heights, one hundred and thirty enemy sails, whitening the Narrows—the fleet of Sir William Howe from Halifax, with the Boston veterans and reinforcements."
From this day on, during many weeks, there was so much of excitement and fear for those who favored the Cause, that even the girls ceased to speak of the man whose life they had saved.
That the city would be attacked soon, every one understood, and there seemed but little hope the American forces could successfully oppose the king's army and navy combined.
There were no longer any Tory-rides to be seen, and now it was the Whigs, or those who had celebrated the adoption of the Declaration, who were obliged to speak with caution.
Then came the battle on Long Island, in which both Master Dean and Master Lamb took part, although not regularly enlisted men, and Mistress Lamb and Sarah came to make a long visit to the family on Hanover square.
As a matter of fact, during all this while Dorothy and Sarah were not allowed on the streets even in the daytime; but old Scip came and went at his own sweet will, and, as may be supposed, brought all the news that could be gathered at the taverns or market-places.
The rumble of heavy guns might have been heard almost continuously from early morning until late in the afternoon of the twenty-seventh of August, and in the living room of Master Dean's home two women and two children sat silent, save at rare intervals when Scip brought rumors of American defeat, and well-nigh motionless in the agony of suspense.
During the forenoon the old darkey brought the cheering information that the patriot army was holding the Britishers in check; but shortly after noon stragglers came across from Brooklyn declaring that the day had been lost, and the last proved to be the fact.
Then eight and forty long, dreary hours of anxious waiting, without word from the two men who had left the little party alone in that house on Hanover square, that they might battle for the freedom of their country, and then Scip came with the information that every boat or vessel on the New York side of the harbor had been seized by orders of the Commander-in-chief, and drawn up at the ferry[3] on the Long Island shore. "It was an odd fleet—sloops, sail-boats, galleys, periaugers,[4] flat-boats, row-boats and whale-boats."
All this could only point to the retreat of the American forces, and it can be partially understood in what condition of mind were these two women, wives of prominent Sons of Liberty.
There were good reasons for fearing, not only the excesses of the British soldiers; but ill-treatment from the Tories, who would most likely wreak revenge for the abuse received while the Americans were in undisturbed possession of the city.
During the second night after the battle the women and children did not indulge in sleep, for the patriot soldiers were being ferried across the river, the first to arrive on the New York side receiving orders to bivouac in Hanover square.
It was possible, during many hours, for the frightened ones to hear the tramp of men and rumble of wheels, and while listening to the sinister sounds they watched eagerly and fearfully for the coming of their loved ones.
Not until the sun had risen, disclosing tents, clothing, baggage and all manner of camp equipage, soaked with rain, encumbering the square, did Masters Dean and Lamb present themselves to those who had waited so long and anxiously.
They had passed through the battle uninjured; but presented the appearance of men on the verge of exhaustion, and only after their wants had been ministered to by all in the house, was it possible for them to relate the sad story of honest defeat and some mistakes.
"Our army can no longer hold the city," Master Dean said as he concluded his story in detail of the battle of Long Island. "Already are the people fleeing in every direction, and Tories stand on the street corners flaunting their loyalty to the king unrebuked; they have even begun to threaten us, and I was told not an hour since, that this house is to be burned within eight and forty hours after Howe takes possession of the town, because, as that reptile, St. John Newcomb, said, I am a viper, who, with all my brood, must be smoked out."
"If there is yet time, why do we not join those who are fleeing from the trouble to come?" Mistress Dean asked quickly, and her husband gave vent to a groan as he replied:
"Because all the property I own is in the shop, and here, in addition to which, I am owing more bills than can be paid at once. It is with the hope of saving something out of the wreck that I remain; but there is nothing to prevent you and Dorothy from leaving this very day."
Mistress Dean looked thoughtful, as if undecided whether she should take advantage of her husband's permission, when Mistress Lamb asked sharply:
"Do you intend to remain, Anthony?"
"I must, my dear, and for the same reason friend Dean has given; but I will say as does he, that both you and the child may go."
"Sarah and I will stay with you, Anthony Lamb, and if disaster overtakes one, all three shall share equally in it," Mistress Lamb said in a tone of determination, and her hostess could do no less than echo the words.
During the sad conference which followed, it was decided that since the Lamb residence, being near the water front and likely to be visited by the land as well as the seaward approaches, was less secure than that on Hanover square, it would therefore be well for the families to live together until some better arrangement could be made.
In addition, the two merchants were resolved to store the most valuable of their goods in the dwelling, and keep at their shops only such articles as would fail to tempt the cupidity of the mob.
It seemed necessary to set about the work of removal at once, and Scipio was sent out to engage, if indeed that might be possible, a force of laborers to perform the work.
That they were not to be separated immediately was a sad happiness to Dorothy and Sarah; but they made no plans for the future, because of Master Newcomb's threat, which still rang in their ears, and they were old enough to realize that within a very few days both might be homeless.
Within eight and forty hours the plan as suggested by Master Dean had been carried into effect, by arduous and continuous labor. The goods were stored in attic and cellar, and from the house on Old Slip the more precious of Mistress Lamb's belongings were added to the collection.
"It is sink or swim with us now, friend Lamb," Master Dean said, when, the heavy task having been accomplished, the two men were taking that repose which by this time had become absolutely necessary. "If it so be the Tories burn this house, and I do not question their will to do so, we are paupers in our old age, without so much as a shelter."
"True, and we must be prepared for whatever may come. Our only hope is that General Howe may use his efforts to preserve the city for the king, and to fire a building in this dry season would be highly dangerous."
"It is more likely that he will give his men permission to pillage the homes of the Whigs, in which case the Tories can take such part as will satisfy their desire for revenge. How many of the association will remain, do you know?"
"Not above six, as I have heard. It is rumored that our troops will evacuate the city to-night. The enemy has seized the islands in Harlem river, which shows that an immediate attack is to be expected."
"Then may God have mercy on us, for we can hope for but little from our new masters," and the worthy silversmith bowed his head on his hands in an agony of despair.
The two merchants made no effort to carry on their business during this time of suspense. In the first place it would have been dangerous, for the rough element of the city, knowing the American soldiers were powerless to prevent them, were already beginning to rob and ill-treat the better classes. Again, had Masters Dean and Lamb owned the most tempting goods to be found in all the colonies, they would have had no customers, since the greater majority of the Whigs had fled, and the Tories would not deal with them.
Then came the hour when all the wagons and transports at the command of the Americans were employed in removing the sick and wounded to King's Bridge, and it was confidently announced that the able-bodied men would begin the retreat on the following day.
When the Sunday morning came that they were to be left in New York without semblance of protection, the family in the house on Hanover square gathered at the breakfast table silent and sorrowful, to be aroused before the meal was finished, by the entrance of old Scip, who, with terror written on every feature of his face, shouted:
"De Britishers am pilin' up 'roun' Kip's bay,[5] Massa Dean? Dere's five frigates, an' more boats filled wid sojers dan you could count. Its gwine ter be mighty hot 'fore long!"
This startling announcement had hardly been made, when the roar of heavy guns broke the stillness, and in an instant it was as if the earth literally trembled under the detonations.
The second battle was on, and with the Americans ready for retreat, the result could not long be in doubt.
As every reader knows, the British force drove our people like sheep. Before the sun set on that night the enemy was in possession of the city, and concerning the commencement of British rule in New York, the following brief but graphic account has been given:[6]
"It bore much the appearance of a dismantled town. Houses and stores were closed, bells removed from churches and public buildings, brass knockers from houses, everything portable and of value the flying people had taken with them. On Saturday, the 21st (September), at midnight, a fire broke out in a low groggery near Whitehall street, in the southeastern part of the town, and fanned by a strong south wind, swept like a prairie fire through the city. It ran up Whitehall to Broadway, and up the east side of that thoroughfare to Beaver, where with a change of wind it leaped the street and sped on up the west side, sweeping everything clean to the North river. Trinity church, with its rectory and charity school, and the Lutheran church, were soon blackened heaps of ruins. St. Paul's was saved only by the desperate efforts of citizens, who climbed out upon its flat roof and quenched live embers as they fell. The flames were only checked by the open grounds and stone buildings of King's college.
"'This fire was so furious and so violently hot that no person could go near it,' wrote an eyewitness. 'If one was in one street and looked about, the fire broke out already in another street above, and thus it raged all night, and till about noon.' ... Four hundred and ninety-three houses and several churches were destroyed. The British jumped to the conclusion that the Americans were burning the town to prevent its serving them as winter quarters, and they bayoneted several worthy citizens who were putting out the fire, and threw others into the flames under the impression that they were the incendiaries."
From the hour the British took possession of the city, until the fire, which has just been described, broke out, Masters Dean and Lamb remained in the house, believing it best not to show themselves publicly until after the first rejoicings of the Tories had come to an end.
During this time the two merchants remained unmolested; but this happy fact they attributed to the precautions taken; the dwelling, being closely shuttered on the front and sides, gave curious ones the impression that its owner had fled when the majority of the Whigs sought safety elsewhere. Scipio was the only inmate who ventured abroad, and he was instructed to be particularly careful when departing from, or approaching the building, not to allow himself to be seen by such of the neighbors as yet remained in New York.
Thus it was that when nearly a week had passed in safety to them, Masters Dean and Lamb had no hesitation in saying that there was good reason to believe they had acted wisely in staying to care for their property.
"If we continue to be as cautious a week or so longer, there is little question but that we can open our shops with a prospect of doing sufficient business to keep our families from actual want," the silversmith said on this evening before the fire broke out, and his friend replied:
"I have misjudged some whom I had good reason to believe were my enemies, and particularly Master Newcomb. He has been so bitter, even when it was dangerous to show hatred of Whigs, that I felt positive he would lose no time in paying off what he fancies are old scores."
"We have very much to be thankful for," Master Dean said devoutly. "Of a verity God has been good to us, and we should not neglect to give Him thanks."
Then the entire family, even including Scipio, knelt at prayer, and when the devotions had come to an end, and the children were in bed, Sarah said in a tone of relief:
"How good it seems not to be frightened all the time!"
"Indeed it does, and perhaps now we can go out of doors once in a while, or, at least, have the shutters open," Dorothy replied with a laugh of content, and then the two tiny maids who had saved the life of Lieutenant Oakman, turned their entire attention to crossing the borders of dreamland.
Half an hour after midnight the children awakened in terror as Master Dean cried shrilly:
"It appears as if the entire city was on fire! Awaken, Anthony Lamb, for now has come our time of trial, if I mistake not! The Britishers count on smoking us out like rats!"
Hardly more than sixty seconds elapsed before the occupants of the house, only partially clad, were standing at the window through which the spy had been allowed to escape, gazing in fear and trembling at the leaping tongues of flame not many squares away, as they darted here and there with gigantic leaps and bounds.
"Think you this is the work of Howe's men, or the Tories?" Master Lamb asked, and the silversmith replied bitterly;
"The Britishers couldn't have done this wickedness, for they need the town. It must have been the work of those whom we have met again and again as fellow citizens."
"They have performed the task too well, for while the fire is raging so fiercely it will be impossible for them to save their own dwellings. We yet have much to be thankful for, friend Dean. The flames are extending up Broad Way, and this building is like to escape destruction, unless other fires are kindled."
The cries of the people could be heard as they worked to save the doomed structures, or ran hither and thither with their portable property; but in the vicinity of Hanover square the utmost silence reigned until after the conflagration had been in progress an hour or more, when voices were suddenly heard near by, as if the speakers were approaching.
"It is the Tories who have done this dreadful thing! "Master Lamb said in a low tone to the silversmith, as he clasped him by the hand. "I doubt not but that Colonel Willett's property was the first to feel the torch, and now our time has come. That is Newcomb's voice, and we know he would not be in this quarter of the city unless to do us harm."
Master Dean leaned far out of the window and listened. In a few seconds it was possible to hear his own name spoken, and he, as his companion had done, recognized the voice.
"That scoundrelly Tory shall pay dearly for his mischief!" the silversmith cried in a rage. "I may not be able to save my house, for doubtless he comes with a large crew of ruffians; but this shall be the last building to which he will apply the torch!"
He turned to go down-stairs; but Anthony Lamb stopped him by clutching his coat-collar.
"What would you do?" he asked sternly.
"Get the same weapons I used when we stood against the Britishers on Long Island, and shoot him down as I would a cur!"
Dorothy and Sarah clung to their mothers' dresses, terrified by the tone as well as the words, and the two women came forward as if to lay violent hands upon the angry silversmith; but Master Lamb was before them.
"You shall not do that thing, Jacob Dean!" he cried sternly. "If it so be that these kindly neighbors of ours deprive us of a shelter, we will stand by and see it done, rejoicing that we are free and in each other's company. To kill a Tory would be the same as signing your own death warrant, whatever might be the provocation, for my lord Howe would not scruple to hang every Whig in the colony." Then, seeing that Master Dean was not to be dissuaded because of possible danger to himself, he tried another line of argument. "Think you that your wife and child are not in sore straits enough already, that you must prepare your neck for a British rope so they may be left without a protector? Who would feed or shelter them after you were hanged? Life is not yours to throw away while you have a woman and a child dependent upon you!"
"Enough, Anthony Lamb! Enough! I am ever quick to speak without first weighing the cost. If it be that these scoundrelly Tories destroy our property without our striking a blow in self-defense, you shall see that I can look on as calmly as you, and when this dwelling has been burned, my shop and your buildings will be given over to the torch."
"Since we can do nothing to prevent it, save at the expense of leaving our families alone in this world, let it be done, and we will say to ourselves, even when all we own is in ashes, that God has been good because our dear ones are with us alive, and in health."
Then Master Lamb knelt down, his head resting on the window-ledge, and when the others had followed his example he prayed to that God who looks upon Whig and Tory alike, that they might have strength given them in the hour of their need.
And as he prayed Master Newcomb, at the head of a party of twenty Tories, was walking rapidly toward Jacob Dean's home, his small heart filled with the delight of wreaking vengeance for the harsh words which had been showered upon him in the past.
- ↑ Then on Wall street.
- ↑ Todd's "Story of New York."
- ↑ The present Fulton ferry.
- ↑ A canoe made from the trunk of a single tree hollowed out.—Cent. Dict.
- ↑ The cove that now sets in from the East river at the foot of East Thirty-fourth street, was then known as Kip's bay.
- ↑ Todd's "Story of New York."