Peggy Owen Patriot Part 36

CHAPTER XXVIII-A TASTE OF PARTISAN WARFARE

"It was too late to check the wasting brand, And Desolation reap'd the famish'd land; The torch was lighted, and the flame was spread, And Carnage smiled upon her daily dead."

-"Count Lara," Byron.

While they were conversing the fisherman himself entered. He was a man of middle age, much bronzed by exposure to weather, but with a kindly gleam in his keen gray eyes. Peggy rose as he entered, and started forward to meet him.

"Thy wife tells me that I owe thee my life, sir," she said, extending her hand. "I don't know how to tell thee how much I thank thee."

"Then don't try," he replied, taking her little hand awkwardly. "Now don't stand up, my girl. You're like a ghost. Ain't she, Mandy?"

"Yes," responded his wife. "And what do you think, Henry? She was on one of the s.h.i.+ps that started from New York with Sir Henry Clinton for Georgia. They intend making another attempt to take Charleston."

The fisherman's brow contracted in a frown. "So they air a-going to bring the war down here?" he remarked thoughtfully. "That's bad news.

Was there many s.h.i.+ps?"

"Five of the line, and I don't know how many transports with men, ordnance and horses," answered Peggy.

"Mayhap they're all foundered by that storm," exclaimed the dame.

"'Twould be a mercy if they was."

"Mandy," spoke her husband, in a warning tone.

"She's a Whig, Henry Egan, and her father's in the Continental army,"

explained the good woman. "And what's more, she's a prisoner of war, too. Jest you tell him about it."

And Peggy told again all her little story. When she spoke of the time spent in the camp of the main army, the fisherman became intensely interested.

"And so you know General Was.h.i.+ngton?" he remarked smiling. "How does he look? We all air mighty proud of him down here. You see he comes from this part of the country. Jest over here in Virginny. A next door neighbor, you might call him."

And Peggy told all she could about General Was.h.i.+ngton, about such of his generals as she had met, the movements of the army, and everything connected with her stay in New York. Nor was this the last telling.

North Carolina, while intensely patriotic as a whole and responding liberally to the country's demand for troops and supplies, had heretofore had but one slight incursion from the British. For this reason they were eager to hear from one who had been in the midst of the main armies, and who seemed to come as a direct messenger from that far-off Congress whose efforts to sustain a central government were becoming so woefully weak.

So Peggy found herself the centre of a little circle, composed of true and tried Whigs whose leaning toward the cause had more than once brought them into conflict with neighboring Tories.

The cottage was situated on a small inlet of the ocean a few miles east of the Cape Fear River. A little distance from the main sh.o.r.e a low yellow ridge of sand hills stretched like a serpent, extending nearly the full length of the state on the ocean side, and making the coast the dread of mariners. These reefs were called "the banks." The cottage was an unpretentious structure, consisting of but three rooms: the living-room or kitchen, a little chamber for Peggy, and a larger one occupied by the fisherman and his wife. But the fisherman had grown rich from wreckage. He had a number of beef cattle, and herded "banker ponies" by the hundred.

Peggy grew fond of him and of the wife, and a.s.sisted in all the duties of the simple household. And so the time went by, and then there came to them rumors of the British fleet which had at last landed its forces for the besieging of Charleston.

Anxiously the result was awaited. North Carolina rushed men to the city to help in its defense, for if that fell it was but a question of time until their own state would suffer invasion. At last, Henry Egan betook himself to Wilmington, thirty miles distant, for news. On his return his brow was overcast with melancholy.

"Charleston is taken," he announced in gloomy tones. "The whole of General Lincoln's army air prisoners. The British air overrunning all South Carolina, plundering and burning the house of every Whig, and trying to force every man in the state to join their army. The Tories in both states air rising, and I tell you, wife, it won't be long until our time comes."

"I am afraid so," answered Mistress Egan, turning pale. "Oh, Henry, I wish we was up to mother's at Charlotte. We would be safe up there."

"I don't know, Mandy. It seems as though there was no place safe from the British. It might be best to go up there, but I'd never reach there with the ponies. The people air a-hoping that Congress will send us some help from the main army. The state hasn't anything now but milish. 'Tis said in Wilmington that Sir Henry returns soon to New York, leaving Lord Cornwallis to complete the subjugation of the South. He publicly boasts that North Carolina will receive him with open arms."

"Belike the Tories will," remarked the good dame sarcastically. "I reckon he'll find a few that won't be so overjoyed. Mayhap too they'll give him a welcome of powder and ball."

But the reports that came to them from time to time of the atrocities committed by the British in the sister state were far from rea.s.suring.

Events followed each other in rapid succession. Georgetown, Charleston, Beaufort and Savannah were the British posts on the sea; while Augusta, Ninety-six, and Camden were those of the interior. From these points parties went forth, gathering about them profligate ruffians, and roamed the state indulging in rapine, and ready to put patriots to death as outlaws. The Tories in both the Carolinas rose with their masters, and followed their lead in plundering and arson.

"I do wish, Henry," said his wife, "that you would sell off all the beef cattle and marsh ponies that you have. We'll be getting a visit along with the rest of the folks. I reckon, if you don't."

"Everything is all right," cried Henry who had just returned from Wilmington. "Tidings jest come that Congress has sent General Gates to take command of the Southern army, and they say he's advancing as fast as he can."

"Well, it wouldn't do no hurt to get rid of the critters anyway,"

persisted his wife. "A lot of harm can be done before Gates gets here."

"I tell you everything is all right now," said Henry exultingly. "Just let Horatio Gates get a whack at Cornwallis, and he'll Burgoyne him jest as he did the army at Saratoga."

"I wish it was General Arnold who was coming," said Peggy. She had never felt confidence in General Gates since John Drayton had related his version of that battle. The exposure of the "Conway Cabal" had lessened her faith in him also, as it had that of many people. "General Arnold was the real hero of Saratoga. He and Daniel Morgan; so I've heard."

"Well, I ain't saying nothing against Arnold," was the fisherman's answer. "He's a brave man, das.h.i.+ng and brilliant; but if Congress hadn't thought that Gates was the man for us they wouldn't have sent him down."

Peggy said no more. The climax came in August when, utterly routed at Camden, Gates fled alone from his army into Charlotte. A few days later, Sumter, who now commanded the largest force that remained in the Carolinas, was surprised by Colonel Tarleton as he bivouacked on the Wateree, and put to rout by that officer. Elated by his success Cornwallis prepared for his northward march, and in furtherance of his plans inaugurated a reign of terror.

One night in the latter part of August Peggy could not sleep. It was very warm, and she rose and went out on the little porch where she stood trying to get a breath of air. The sea moved with a low murmur, the surf being very light.

"How warm it is," she mused. "Even the sea is quiet to-night. How different it is down here from my own Philadelphia. Is mother there now, I wonder? Or would she be at Strawberry Hill? I wish--"

She bent her head abruptly in a listening att.i.tude. The tramp of a horse approaching in a gallop was plainly heard. But a few moments elapsed before a man, who in the starlight she could see was armed, dashed up and drew rein before the cottage calling loudly:

"Awake! Awake, Henry Egan! The British and Tories are coming. Awake, man, awake!"

"Friend," called the girl excitedly, "who is thee?"

"A friend. Jack Simpson," he answered. "Is Egan dead, that he does not answer? He must awake."

Peggy ran to the door of the bedchamber, calling wildly:

"Friend Henry, Friend Mandy, awake, awake!"

"Who calls?" cried Egan, sitting up suddenly.

"'Tis Peggy," answered she quickly. "A friend is here who says the Tories are coming."

"The Lord have mercy on us," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mistress Egan springing out of bed. "Henry, Henry, get up! The British and Tories are upon us."

At last awake, the fisherman sprang from his bed, and rushed to the door.

"Get your wife and whatever you want to save," shouted the man outside.

"The British are out with Fanning's Tories burning every suspected house in the district. No time to lose, Henry. They're coming now."