The Amorous Intrigues and Adventures of Aaron Burr/Chapter 12
CHAPTER XII.
Miss Moncrieffe's night adventure.—Her removal to Kingsbridge at the instance of Burr.—Her return to her father, and subsequent course.—Battle of Long Island.—Retreat from New York.—Love adventures on the banks of the Hudson.
When Sunday came, the lovers rode out again, and once more they were in Paradise. On the very next night, Miss Moncrieffe came to the chamber of the young soldier, at the great risk of discovery, for she passed the sentinel while on duty, and if he had chosen to mention the fact, her reputation would have been compromised.
Burr felt that she had acted imprudently, but he took "the good the gods provided him," and she spent a glorious night. But she became in cautious even in the day time, and addressed Burr at the table in such gentle and affectionate accents, that even General Putnam observed it, and looked up in some surprise. Her visits to Burr's chamber became frequent, and, in short, she evinced a recklessness of consequence which warned him that the time had come for them to separate.
Burr took an early opportunity to confer with General Putnam in regard to Miss Moncrieffe, and represented to him that she was well calculated for a spy; that notwithstanding her youth, she was very intelligent and observing; that she listened intently to all that was said in regard to the present difficulties between Great Britain and the Colonies and asked many questions about the plans, opinions, and intentions of the commander-in-chief. Such a person, he suggested, ought not to be permitted to remain at head-quarters, or in the family of Gen. Putnam.
Putnam spoke to Washington on the subject, and he suggested that Miss Moncrieffe should be sent to Kingsbridge, where General Mifflin commanded.
After a brief stay at Kingsbridge, leave was granted for Miss Moncrieffe to depart to Staten Island. An American officer took her in charge, and they set out for the British head-quarters in a boat.
When they had come within a short distance of the English fleet, they were met by a boat from the latter, and the British officer commanding gave them to understand that they could go no farther; that he would take charge of the young lady and convey her in safety to her father, who was six or eight miles in the country with Lord Percy. In her Memoirs, she adds:
"I then entered the British barge, and bidding an eternal farewell to my dear American friends, turned my back on liberty."
The Memoirs also contain the following rhapsody, in relation to a young American officer, meaning Aaron Burr:
"May these pages one day meet the eye of him who subdued my virgin heart. * * * * To him I plighted my virgin vow. * * * With this conqueror of my soul, how happy should I now have been! What storms and tempests should I have avoided (at least I am pleased to think so) if I had been allowed to follow the bent of my inclinations. Ten thousand times happier should I have been with him in the wildest desert of our native country, the woods affording us our only shelter, and their fruits our only repast, than under the canopy of costly state, with all the refinements of courts, with the royal warrior (the Duke of York), who would have fain proved himself the conqueror of France. My conqueror was engaged in another cause; he was ambitious to obtain other laurels. He was a colonel in the American army, and high in the estimation of his country. His victories were never accompanied with one gloomy, relenting thought. They shone as bright as the cause which achieved them."
After Miss Moncrieffe's return to her father, she married, and took her husband's name, which was Coghlan. Her conduct towards her husband proved but too plainly that her heart was elsewhere. She became widely known as a gay woman, and the name of Margaret Coghlan was frequently mentioned in the court and fashionable circles of Great Britain and France. Lords, dukes, and members of Parliament sought her acquaintance, and she was alternately reveling in wealth and sunken in poverty. But through all the changes, adventures, and vicissitudes of her varied and inconstant life, she appears to have entertained for Burr, "the conqueror of her soul," the most ardent respect and admiration.
Soon after the departure of Miss Moncrieffe, Burr was called into active service.
Putnam was on Long Island with Major Burr as his aid-de-camp, when the British landed near Utrecht and Gravesend, on the south-west end of the island. This was on the 22d of August 1776.
The battle was fought on the 27th, in which the Americans lost, in killed and wounded, and prisoners, one thousand men. The loss of the British was little more than a third of that number.
The result is not surprising when we consider the superiority of the enemy, who had a force of twenty thousand men—the Americans but twelve hundred.
The Americans were driven within the works which they had thrown up, and before the British had commenced their attack, a retreat was ordered.
A thick fog probably saved our army from distruction. Under cover of the heavy mist, the whole army, nine thousand in number, with all the field artillery, ordnance, and other paraphernalia, were safely landed in New York.
Burr was appointed a lieutenant-colonel in the Continental army in June, 1777, and on the 14th of July, he was sent by Gen. Putnam to Norwich and Fairfield, there to wacth watch the movements of the enemy, or any of their fleets.
On the 26th of July, Burr was officially notified that he was appointed lieutenant-colonel of Col. Malcolm's regiment, at that time stationed at Ramapo or the Clove in Orange county, New York. Burr was at that time twenty-one years of age, and appeared even younger than that.
Malcolm was a merchant of New York City, and had been appointed to office because he was a man of influence; but he relinquished the command to Burr, saying: "You shall have all the honor of disciplining and fighting the regiment, while I will be its father."
He then retired with his family about twenty miles distant, and never commanded his regiment in battle, during the war, although it was frequently engaged. That duty was performed by Burr.
While Burr's regiment was at Clove, the British came out of the city of New York, on the West side of the Hudson, about 2,000 strong, to plunder and devastate the country. Burr heard of the enemy at the distance of thirty miles, and was in their camp with his 300 men before morning, capturing and destroying their picket-guards and sentinels, which struck such consternation into their ranks that they fled with precipitation, leaving behind them their plunder and a part of their stores.
On the next day, Col. Burr received orders to join, without delay, the main army, then in Pennsylvania.
One little event occurred, during Burr's stay with his regiment at Clove, which, though it has no connection with the war, we hope our readers will pardon us for inserting.
Burr was walking out, one Sunday afternoon, near a wood on the banks of the Hudson, pondering on matters connected with his military duties, when he met, in an unfrequented place, a young lass some sixteen or seventeen years of age.
Her neat pink-spotted calico frock was tucked up around her waist, to avoid the briars, discovering a snow-white petticoat, and very neat feet and ankles. She wore a broad brimmed straw hat, tied with a wide green ribbon, and was otherwise dressed in the neat attire of a villager of the middling class.
The form of the young woman was admirable, and her countenance pleasing. She had large blue eyes of a peculiarly sweet expression, cheeks delicately tinged with red, and though the lips were full, the mouth was handsomely formed.
The young woman, perceiving that Burr was an officer of the army made him a low courtesy. He bowed and bade her "good afternoon," to which she responded as is usual in such cases.
"Pray my dear miss," said Burr, "have you seen anything of a hound during your walk?"
"I have not, sir," was the reply; "I met the large dog, near the corner of the wood, which belongs to the store, but he is not a hound, sir."
"I am sorry for having troubled you. You were in haste to get on, I believe, as I observed that you walked with great speed, and thought to myself that few young ladies could have got over the ground so quickly."
"Oh! I was only coming from a visit to my aunt, sir. But there are so many cow-boys and tories, that I was a little afraid."
The young officer laid his hand upon his sword, and said rather pompously, to produce an effect:
"Let me catch any of the rascals lurking about here, or following on your steps! It is the duty of a soldier to place his body as a wall of defence between danger and the fair sex: and where beauty like yours is periled—"
"Oh, sir!" cried she, blushing deeply, while admiration sparkled in her eyes.
Burr retarded their progress as much as possible by stopping occasionally to remark something on the Hudson, or in the wood, and then he made some observation to his companion, in which he contrived to throw in a spice of flattery.
Then he assisted the pretty girl to get upon a rock, to see some object he had pointed out to her, and while doing so, he would suffer her bosom to come in contact with himself, and so gradual was his progress, and so naturally did it all appear, that he was soon walking with his arm around the waist of his companion. Then he pressed her form rather abruptly, which caused her to turn her face towards him rather reproachfully.
"Forgive me," said he; "but who could be so near these captivating graces without desiring to make the contact closer? Do you not know that you are very beautiful?"
"I do not know that I was every called so," said she looking down.
"It is then because you have not been with good judges. It is not every one who is capable of appreciating true beauty. We have many young ladies among us who are good looking, who have good hair, good teeth, or a handsome mouth and chin; but when all the graces have met in one, oh! there we look and worship!"
Burr did not say that in the young girl before him all the graces had met, but he looked it, and she felt that it was to her he alluded when he spoke of a perfectly beautiful young lady.
They passed on, Burr having taken her arm, which trembled very perceptibly. He lifted her over a brook, and perceived plain evidences of emotion.
By this time it was dusk, and a beautiful day in September. They were on a grassy path, with flowing banks on either side, Burr in the act of extolling the charms of the pretty rustic, at the same time gave her several kisses on the neck and bosom. This alarmed her some, but he followed up the first offence closely by another, till, finally, she sank into his arms. He then drew her to a little covert, and forced her down on the heather, her struglings strugglings becoming weaker and weaker. In another moment he had revealed all her charms—the taper legs, the round white thighs, and the beauteous spot which promised joys and raptures which cannot be described.
For a moment she was aroused to a sense of her condition, and repulsed the bold invador invader of her sanctum sanctorum; but he smothered her with kisses, and with an "oh!" and an "oh! dear!" she acknowledged that the Rubicon had been passed.
Untold pleasures followed. Streams of joy titillated and delighted her young and ardent womanhood, until rapture followed rapture in such quick succession that her sweet blue eyes rolled wildly in their sockets; she quivered from head to foot, she threw her legs over her lover, and exhibited all the proofs of pleasure and transport of which woman is capable on this side of the grave.
When the climax arrived, the sensation was so new and startling, that she uttered a scream, but there was nobody to hear it except Burr, and he was too experienced a veteran in the wars of Venus not to understand its meaning.
When the deed had been done, and the young girl realized the fact that she was no longer a maid, she looked first at Burr, and then on every side, as if a doubt of her personal identity had seized upon her. The idea of ever surrendering up her virginity to any man but her husband had probably never entered her head before. After thus testifying her wonder, remorse, and even dispair a moment, she sank panting at the feet of Burr.
He raised her up, and supported her in his arms. She looked in his face a moment, as if to chide, but changed her mind and let her head fall upon his shoulder, when she burst into loud weeping.
He tried to console her, by saying that no one would ever know what she had done; that many respectable young women even had children privately, and that their reputations never suffered in consequence of their false step; but he found that nothing else would answer the purpose, so he again had recourse to the never-failing cure all—in such cases
He caressed her anew, and soon aroused her passion again, when he found her even more excitable than on the first occasion. She experienced the keenest pleasure; and when all was over, she lavished the most affectionate words upon him. This led to a third and forth performance, by which time the young girl declared that she could delay her return home no longer, and that somebody would be sent by her friends if she did not go home immediately.
Accordingly, they set out, conversing very tenderly with each other, and the young girl giving her promise that she would meet Burr again.
The young soldier was somewhat surprised to find, on reaching the home of his companion, that she resided in a very large mansion, and that her father was a man of wealth and influence among the inhabitants of that part of the country.
Burr met this young girl several times afterwards, and found her pleased with his attentions until he left that post, and went to join the main army.
Col. Burr was sent for by Washington, to join the main army with his regiment, because the British army under General Howe had crossed the Schuylkill several miles below the place where the Americans were encamped.
Shortly after Burr's arrival with his regiment at head quarters, the army went into winter quarters at Valley Forge.
While at Valley Forge, Burr attended strictly to his military duties, but found some time to attend to the fair sex, who, like wild flowers entwining the rugged rocks, beautify and consecrate the hardships and dangers of a soldier's life.