SCENE 112 - Battle field of the Neutral Ground
(While DUNWOODIE had been thus engaged, the body of LAWTON lay in
open view of the whole squadron. He was a universal favorite, and the sight
inflames the men to the utmost; neither officers nor soldiers possess that
coolness which is necessary to ensure success in military operations; but
they spur ardently after their enemies, burning with a wish for vengeance.)
(The English are formed in a hollow square, which contains their wounded,
who are far from numerous, and are marching steadily across a very uneven
country as the dragoons approach. The horse charges in column, and are led
by DUNWOODIE, who, burning with revenge, thinks to ride through their ranks
and scatter them at a blow. But the enemy knows their own strength too well,
and standing firm, they receive the charge on the points of their bayonets.)
(The horses of the Virginians recoil, and the rear rank of the foot
throw in a close fire, the Major, with a few men, fall. The English continue
their retreat the moment they are extricated from their assailants; and
DUNWOODIE, who is severely, but not dangerously wounded, recalls his men
from further attempts, which, in that stony country, must necessarily be
fruitless.)
SCENE 113 - Late morning on hillsides of the Highlands
(A sad duty remains to be filled. The dragoons retire slowly through
the hills, conveying their wounded commander, and the body of LAWTON. The
latter they inter under the ramparts of one of the Highland forts, and the
former they consign to the tender care of his afflicted bride.)
SCENE 114 - Weeks later on DUNWOODIE's plantation
(Many weeks are gone before the Major is restored to sufficient strength
to be removed. During those weeks, how often does he bless the moment that
gave him the right to the services of his beautiful nurse! She hangs around
his couch with fond attention; administering with her own hands every prescription
of the indefatigable SITGREAVES, and grows each hour in the affections and
esteem of her husband.)
(An order from Washington soon sends the troops into winter quarters,
and permission is given to DUNWOODIE to repair to his own plantation, with
the rank of Lieutenant-colonel, in order to complete the restoration of
his health. Captain SINGLETON makes one of the party; and the whole family
retires from the active scenes of the war, to the ease and plenty of the
Major's own estate.)
(Before leaving Fishkill, however, letters are conveyed to them, through
an unknown hand, acquainting them with HENRY's safety and good health; and
also that Colonel WELLMEYER has left the continent for his native island,
lowered in the estimation of every honest man in the royal army.)
(It is a happy winter for DUNWOODIE, and smiles once more begin to
play around the lovely mouth of FRANCES.
SCENE 115 - A stormy day in Jersey late September 1781, outside
headquarters of American army post
( Americans are making great preparations, in conjunction with their
allies, to bring the war to a close. In the south, Greene and Rawdon make
a bloody campaign, that is highly honorable to the troops of the latter,
but which, by terminating entirely to the advantage of the former, proves
him to be the better general of the two.)
(New York is the point that is threatened by the allied armies; and Washington,
by exciting a constant apprehension for the safety of that city, prevents
such reinforcements from being sent to Cornwallis as would have enabled
him to improve his success.)
(At length as autumn approaches, every indication is given that the
final moment has arrived. The French forces draw near to the royal lines,
passing through the Neutral Ground, and threaten an attack in the direction
of Kingsbridge, while large bodies of Americans are acting in concert. By
hovering around the British posts, and drawing nigh in the Jersey, they
seem to threaten the royal forces from that quarter, also.)
(The preparations partake of the nature of both a siege and a storm.
But Sir Henry Clinton, in the possession of intercepted letters from Washington,
rested securely within his lines, and cautiously disregarded the solicitations
of Cornwallis for succour.)
(It is at the close of a stormy day in the month of September, that
a large assemblage of officers is collected near the door of a building
that is situated in the heart of the American troops, who hold the Jerseys.
The age, the dress, and the dignity of deportment of most of these warriors,
indicates them to be of high rank; but to one in particular is paid a deference
and obedience that announces him to be of the highest.)
(His dress is plain, but it bears the usual military distinctions
of command. He is mounted on a noble animal, of deep bay; and a group of
young men, in gayer attire, evidently await his pleasure, and do his bidding.
Many a hat is lifted as its owner addresses his officer; and when he speaks,
a profound attention, exceeding the respect of mere professional etiquette,
is exhibited on every countenance.)
(At length the GERENAL raises his own hat, and bows gravely to all
around him. The salute is returned, and the party disperses, leaving the
officer without a single attendant, except his body-servants and one aid-de-camp.
Dismounting, he steps back a few paces, and for a moment views the condition
of his horse with the eye of one who well understands the animal, and then,
casting a brief but expressive glance at his aid, he retires into the building,
followed by that gentleman.)
SCENE 116 - Moments later inside room of American headquarters
building
(On entering an apartment that is apparently fitted for his reception,
he takes a seat, and continues for a long time in a thoughtful attitude,
like one in the habit of communing much with himself. During this silence,
the aid-de-camp stands in expectation of his orders. At length the GENERAL
raises his eyes, and speaks in those low placid tones that seem natural
to him.)
GENERAL: Has the man whom I wished to see arrived, sir?
AID: He waits the pleasure of your excellency.
GENERAL: I will receive him here, and alone, if you please.
(The aid bows and withdraws. In a few minutes the door again opens, and
a figure, gliding into the apartment, stands modestly at a distance from
the GENERAL, without speaking. His entrance is unheard by the officer, who
sits gazing at the fire, still absorbed in his own meditations. Several
minutes pass, when he speaks to himself in an undertone -)
GENERAL: Tomorrow we raise the curtain, and expose our plans. may
heaven prosper them.
(A slight movement made by the stranger catches his ear, and the GENERAL
turns his head and sees that he is not alone. He points silently to the
fire, towards which the figure advances, although the multitude of his garments,
which seem more calculated for disguise than comfort, render its warmth
unnecessary.)
(A second and mild courteous gesture motions to a vacant chair, but the
stranger refuses it with a modest acknowledgment. Another pause follows,
and continues for some time. At length the officer rises, and opening a
desk that is laid upon the table near which he sits, takes from it a small,
but apparently heavy bag.
GENERAL (turning to the stranger): HARVEY BIRCH, the time has
arrived when our connection must cease; henceforth and forever we must be
strangers.
(The peddler drops the folds of the great-coat that conceal his features,
and gazes for a moment earnestly at the face of the speaker; then dropping
his head upon his bosom, he says meekly-)
HARVEY: If it be your excellency's pleasure.
GENERAL: It is necessary. Since I have filled the station which I
now hold, it has become my duty to know many men, who like yourself, have
been my instruments in procuring intelligence; I early saw in you a regard
to truth and principle, that I am pleased to say, has never deceived me.
You alone know my secret agents in the city, and on your fidelity depend,
not only their fortunes, but their lives.
(He pauses as if to reflect, in order that full justice might be done
to the peddler -)
GENERAL: I believe you are one of the very few that I have employed
who have acted faithfully to our cause; and, while you have passed as a
spy of the enemy, have never given intelligence that you were not permitted
to divulge. To me, and to me only of all the world, you seem to have acted
with a strong attachment to the liberties of America.
(During this address, HARVEY gradually raises his head from his bosom,
until it reaches the highest point of elevation; a faint tinge gathers in
his cheeks, and, as the officer concludes, it is diffused over his whole
countenance in a deep glow, while he stands proudly swelling with his emotions,
but with eyes that modestly seek the feet of the speaker.)
GENERAL sings THERE IS NO ONE:
"There is no one ... whose patri'tism ... and heroism
... I do not question ... more than you ... There is no one
... who placed his life ... in jeopardy ... so willingly .... more than
you."
BIRCH sings:
"There is no one ... who led his field ... when hopes
were down ... but did not yield .... more than you ...There is no one ...
who if he failed ... our goal could be ... to no avail ... more than you."
GENERAL and BIRCH sing together:
"There is no one ... I've trusted more ... to help make
our goal .... worth fighting for .... more than you.."
GENERAL and BIRCH sing IF NOT FOR
YOU:
(GENERAL sings:) "If not for you ... to provide me knowledge
... to continue to ... seek and dodge the enemy's next move ... I'd not
be here."
(BIRCH sings:) "If not for you ... causing great distraction
... to allow me to .... escape ... the fate ... of swinging from ... the
hangman's noose .... I'd not be here ... It was you who ... showed the
others how ... to take defeat ... but never bow ... to the enemy."
(GENERAL sings:) "It was you whose ... strength so long endured
... through untold hardships ... to insure ... a final victory."
(DUET:) "We played our parts .... but sep'rately ... though together
... while in secrecy." (GENERAL:) "Yours in shame ....
and mine in glory.". (DUET:) "But that's the way ... it
had ... to ... be."
GENERAL: It is now my duty to pay you for these services; hither to
you have postponed receiving your reward, and the debt has become a heavy
one - I wish not to undervalue your dangers; here are a hundred doubloons;
you will remember the poverty of our country, and attribute to it the smallness
of your pay.
(The peddler raises his eyes to the countenance of the speaker; but,
as the other holds forth the money, he moves back, as if refusing the bag.)
GENERAL: It is not much for your services and risks, I acknowledge,
but it is all that I have to offer; at the end of the campaign, it may be
in my power to increase it.
HARVEY: Does your excellency think that I have exposed my life, and
blasted my character, for money?
GENERAL: If not money, what then?
HARVEY: What has brought your excellency into the field? For what
do you daily and hourly expose your precious life to battle and the halter?
What is there about me to mourn, when such men as you risk their all for
our country? No - no - no, not a dollar of your gold will I touch; poor
America has need of it all.
(The bag drops from the hand of the officer, and falls at the feet of
the peddler, where it lays neglected during the remainder of the interview.
The officer looks steadily at the face of his companion, and continues -)
GENERAL: There are many motives which might govern me, that to you
are unknown. Our situations are different; I am known as the leader of armies
- but you must descend into the grave with the reputation of a foe to your
native land. Remember that the veil which conceals you true character cannot
be raised - perhaps never. (HARVEY again lowers his face, but there
is no yielding the soul in the movement.)You will soon be old; the prime
of your days is already past; what have you to subsist on?
HARVEY: These. (stretching forth his hands, that are already embrowned
with toil.)
GENERAL sings YOUR SECRECY:
"In time your hands may fail you ...at least take enough
... compensation ... for your service ...to support you in old age ... Remember
your risks and needs ... I have told you of men ... who are much esteemed
.... and in life depend ... on your secrecy ... What pledge can I give them
... of your fidelity?"
HARVEY sings:"Tell them ... tell them ... I would
not take the gold."
GENERAL sings: "Now indeed do I know you ... and though
openly we cannot associate ... in private I can show you ... if ever in
want ... seek out the gate ... of him you've known as HARPER ... who will
appreciate ... your valuable life ... to its very end ... and so long as
God giveth ... will always share ... with so noble a friend."
HARVEY: It's little that I need in this life, so long as God gives
me health and honest industry, I can never want in this country; but to
know that your excellency is my friend, is a blessing that I prize more
than all the gold of England's treasury.
(The officer stands for a few moments in the attitude of intense thought.
He then draws to him the desk, and writes a few lines on a piece of paper,
and gives it to the peddler.)
GENERAL: That Providence destines this country to some great and glorious
fate I must believe, while I witness the patriotism that pervades the bosoms
of her lowest citizens. It must be dreadful for a mind like yours to descend
into the grave, branded as a foe to liberty; but you already know the lives
that would be sacrificed, should your real character be revealed. It is
impossible to do you justice now, but I fearlessly entrust you with this
certificate; should we never meet again, it may be serviceable to your children.
HARVEY: Children! can I give to a family the infamy of my name!
(The officer gazes at the strong emotion he exhibits with pain, and he
makes a slight movement towards the gold; but it is arrested by the expression
of his companion's face. HARVEY sees the intention, and shakes his head,
as he continues more mildly -)
HARVEY: It is indeed a treasure that your excellency gives me; it
is safe, too. There are men living who could say that my life was nothing
to me, compared to your secrets. The paper that I told you was lost I swallowed
when taken last by the Virginians. It was the only time I ever deceived
your excellency, and it shall be the last; yes, this is, indeed a treasure
to me; perhaps (with a melancholy smile) it may be known after my
death who was my friend; but if it should not, there are none to grieve
for me.
GENERAL: Remember, that in me you will always have a secret friend;
but openly I cannot know you.
BIRCH: I know it, I know it. I knew it when I took the service. 'Tis
probably the last time that I shall ever see your excellency. May God pour
down his choicest blessings on your head!
(He pauses and moves toward the door. The officer follows him with eyes
that express deep interest. Once more the peddler turns, and seems to gaze
on the placid, but commanding features of the general with regret and reverence,
and then, bowing low, he withdraws.)
Scattering SCENES comprise 117
(The armies of America and France are led by their illustrious commander
against the enemy under Cornwallis, and terminate a campaign in triumph
that had commenced in difficulties. Great Britain soon after becomes disgusted
with the war; and the independence of the States is acknowledged.)
(As the years roll by, it becomes a subject of pride among the different
actors in the war, and their descendants, to boast of their efforts in the
cause which had confessedly heaped so many blessing upon their country;
but the name of HARVEY BIRCH dies away among the multitude of agents, who
are thought to have labored in secret against the rights of their countrymen.)
(His image, however, is often present to the mind of the powerful
chief, who alone knew his true character; and several times he causes secret
inquires to be made into the other's fate, only one of which results in
any success.)
(By this, he learns that a peddler of a different name, but similar
appearance, is toiling through the new settlements that were springing up
in every direction, and that he is struggling with the advance of years
and apparent poverty. Death prevents further inquiries on the part of the
officer, and a long period passes before he is again heard of.) | 