Valley Forge (21 page)

"The war has gone on too long. We need peace."

"On our terms," Skoyles pressed. "American independence."

Lee laughed. "And to think I questioned your sincerity," he said. "It's all too obvious which side you are on now."

Skoyles was glad to have convinced him, but he was also troubled by the ardor with which he had spoken. Ideas that should have been anathema to a
British soldier had come tumbling so naturally from his lips that he surprised himself. The discussion had roused him, but his sense of invigoration was tempered by unease.

Lee yawned. "Is it safe for me to go to sleep now?"

"I might ask the same of you, sir."

"Oh, there's no danger from me, Captain."

"I'm very glad to hear it."

"You not only proved the stronger man in a fight, you showed me that you've got revolutionary blood in your veins." He pulled the blankets over him. "Good night, my friend."

"One last thing, sir."

"Yes?"

"You spoke very slightingly to me of General Washington," Skoyles recalled. "I have more respect for him as a commander. Do not despair of him yet. Against all the odds, he might still lead us to victory."

George Washington deployed his men with skill. They were ready for action. Heavy rain had dispelled the first snowfall at Valley Forge and left a quagmire in its wake. Instead of trudging through thick mud as they built their cabins, the soldiers were given a chance to close with the enemy and gain something even more precious than military victory. They could get food.

Washington was ready for the British. Forewarned by intelligence from Philadelphia, he sent his men out in various directions, covering all districts where the British army was likely to forage. He gave strict orders that his troops were to watch and wait. It was important to let the redcoats round up what animals were available. Because they could pay for them in coin, rather than with fiduciary money issued by Congress, the redcoats would find farmers more ready to sell to them.

The foraging expedition involved thousands of redcoats and, even though they divided into groups and set off in different directions, some detachments were still too large for the rebel soldiers to take on. Others, however, were not. One regiment of Continental soldiers lay in ambush for hours until they saw their opportunity. When the British troops were heading back toward Frankford with the supplies they had managed to acquire, the rebels fired on them from concealed positions, killing a few but wounding many more.

To save their skins, the redcoats fled the field, and the delighted attackers were able to assess the day's haul—cattle, oxen, sheep, and hogs, together with dozens of squawking chickens, imprisoned in wicker baskets. They carried their booty back to Valley Forge as if they had just captured the colors of an enemy regiment. George Washington was the first to congratulate them on their success.

"We'll be able to eat meat for a change," he observed.

"Yes," said his adjutant, "and the beauty of it is that we did not have to pay a single penny for it. The British picked up the bill."

"That contents me more than I can say. There are few things more pleasurable than sending bad tidings to General Howe."

Elizabeth Rainham was perplexed. Now that she was in New York City, the main base of the British army, she ought to be feeling relieved and reassured. Instead, she was increasingly nervous and succumbed to moments of real fear whenever she reflected on the perils that she and Jamie Skoyles had come through. Events had happened so quickly that she had had no time to appreciate the full danger involved. Elizabeth had been borne along by a wild excitement such as she had never known before. Recollecting it all now, she saw how close to death they had come during their escape, and it left her thoroughly shaken.

The city was a haven. It was not only the sight of so many red uniforms in the streets that rallied her. She had been taken in by Major Donald Wright and his wife, a delightful couple who had given her a room in their house in Queen Street and acquainted her with some of the luxuries she had not known for a long time. Elizabeth was able to take a bath and wash her hair. Because she and Georgina Wright were of the same age, height, and build, she was able to discard the soiled dress she had worn all the way from Cambridge and put on one that Mrs. Wright kindly lent her. To someone as fastidious as Elizabeth, it was a joy to return to a degree of normality. And yet those occasional shudders kept disturbing her. Safe at last, she now was haunted by her brush with terror.

New York City had allowed her another indulgence. She had an opportunity to read again, to lose hour upon hour in the magic of a novel and be transported into an engaging fictional world. Elizabeth was halfway through
her latest book that afternoon when she heard someone knock on the front door. Since both her hosts and the servants were out of the house, she went to answer the door herself and was thrilled to find that it was Jamie Skoyles. As soon as he stepped over the threshold, they embraced warmly. Elizabeth then conducted him into the parlor.

"I did not expect you this early," she said.

"There's been a change of plan."

"You were due to call this evening when Major Wright and Georgina will be here."

"That may not be possible," he told her. "I've been summoned to meet General Clinton to get my orders."

"What sort of orders?"

"I'm being sent to Philadelphia."

"Oh, Jamie—no!"

The thought of being separated from him jolted her. She flung herself into his arms and held him tight. Skoyles hugged her to him. Like Elizabeth, he had been able to wash off the grime of travel and put on clean apparel once more. Instead of being a nameless fugitive, he was Captain Jamie Skoyles again, wearing his uniform with pride and enjoying the privileges that came with his rank. One privilege of their escape, however, had had to be sacrificed, and it was a severe loss. Since they were not married, he had had to surrender Elizabeth to the care of Donald and Georgina Wright. Those precious days together on the run were behind them. Convention set them apart. Feeling her in his arms again, he realized how much he had missed their intimacy. Skoyles held her by the shoulders so that he could appraise her.

"You should be happy for me, Elizabeth," he said.

"Happy that you're going away?"

"It's a form of promotion. General Clinton is very pleased with what I've been able to do since I've been here."

"I want you to stay, Jamie."

"I know, and part of me hates the idea of having to leave you behind. But I have the consolation of knowing that you are completely safe and staying with good friends. Besides," he went on, "Philadelphia is not all that far away. I'll be back in due course."

"What if something should happen in the meantime?" she asked. "I'll be worried that you might get yourself injured or even killed."

"There's little chance of that, Elizabeth. The Continental Army has gone off to winter quarters and we shan't see any major engagements until next spring."

"Then why are you being sent to Philadelphia?"

"I'll know the full details this evening."

"When do you leave?"

"At first light tomorrow."

Elizabeth blenched. "Tomorrow? Why so soon?"

"General Clinton must have a reason."

"Does that mean this is the last time I shall see you, Jamie?"

"Probably. But I'll send word of where I'll be. And we'll be able to keep in touch by letter." He glanced around. "Where's Major Wright?"

"He and Georgina are visiting friends?"

"What about the servants?"

"I'm all alone in the house."

Skoyles grinned. "Oh, no, you're not, Miss Rainham." He kissed her full on the lips. "I'm here as well."

"I've missed you so much, Jamie," she said, clinging to him.

"I know."

"Have you missed me?"

"Of course."

"How much?"

"Let's go upstairs," he said, easing her into the hallway.

"I asked you a question."

"Then I'll give you an answer, Elizabeth."

"When?"

"Afterward."

With an arm around her, he led her up the steps to her room.

General Howe was almost apoplectic. As he paced up and down his office at the British headquarters in Philadelphia, his cheeks were red and he was grinding his teeth audibly. Coming to a halt, he turned on Hugh Orde with a face of thunder.

"They
stole
our animals?" he said, subjecting the young lieutenant to a full glare. "British soldiers allowed the enemy to take food supplies for which
we
had paid?"

"That is the report I received, general."

"Zounds! This is insupportable! We have enough trouble feeding our army without provisioning theirs."

"It was unfortunate, I grant you."

"
Unfortunate!
"

"But," said Orde quickly, anxious not to provoke him, "I have news that may help to take away the sour taste a little. General Clinton has sent a Captain Skoyles to us with the highest recommendation. The captain managed to escape from the Convention army that is being held at Cambridge and made his way to New York by land and sea."

"A capable man, obviously. He'll be able to give us accurate information about the plight of General Burgoyne and his men."

"He can do more than that, sir. General Clinton was so impressed with him that they locked him up with Charles Lee for a day. Captain Skoyles was able to persuade Lee that he was a rebel spy and, having won his confidence, drew all sorts of intelligence out of him."

"Splendid," said Howe, rubbing his hands. "I long to hear it."

"The captain is waiting outside."

"Then send him in, man. I'll speak to him alone."

The lieutenant nodded and opened the door. Inviting the visitor in, he first introduced him to General Howe, then left. The general studied the newcomer. Back in uniform, Jamie Skoyles had the assurance and military bearing of someone who had spent over half his life in the British army. Howe indicated a chair, then resumed his own seat behind the desk. Skoyles sat opposite him.

"Your reputation comes before you, Captain," said Howe. "When the lieutenant first mentioned your name, I thought it sounded vaguely familiar. You are Captain Skoyles of the 24th Foot, are you not?"

"Yes, General."

"You've been mentioned in dispatches."

"That's very gratifying."

"General Burgoyne holds you in high esteem. How is he?"

"In low spirits, sir," replied Skoyles, slipping a hand into his pocket. "At General Clinton's request, I prepared a written report on the frightful conditions that the Convention army faces." He reached forward to put some sheets of paper on the desk. "I've brought a copy of that report for you. It makes rather sad reading, I fear."

"Yes, the rebels have betrayed us yet again."

"Congress always disliked the terms of the convention."

"That does not mean they have the right to rescind them. But enough of that," he continued, glancing at the report. "I'll read this with interest, Captain, and question you further on its detail. What I'd really like to hear about is the time you spent with Major General Lee. I can't say that I would relish being locked up with such a spiky individual."

"He's not the most endearing bedfellow," said Skoyles.

"What did you learn?"

"A great deal, sir."

Skoyles gave him a full account of his discussion with Charles Lee but said nothing about the man's attempt at strangling him. An attentive listener, Howe jotted down a few notes with his quill pen, dipping it into the inkwell on his desk at intervals. When he had finished, Skoyles felt obliged to add a comment.

"Other rebel prisoners do not live in such luxury," he said.

"Charles Lee has special privileges."

"They are denied to the men I saw at the jail on the Common. Conditions there are inhuman. There are filthy dungeons in which prisoners of war suffer solitary confinement for months."

"Those who raise their hands against us must be punished."

"Prison ships are even worse, I am told."

"They are meant to be, Captain," said Howe abruptly. "If you make imprisonment unbearable, you gain new recruits for the navy. What would you do, if given a choice between rotting in chains or fighting against your own side?"

"I'd try to escape, General."

Howe chuckled. "Yes, to be sure. But most men have neither your skill nor your determination, Captain. Some prefer to desert."

"While the majority are left to starve or die."

"Do I detect a note of sympathy?" asked Howe sharply. "We did not ask for this war, remember. I love this country and its people. It goes against the grain for me to fight Americans. But if they entertain these absurd notions of independence—and if they persist in killing or maiming thousands of our soldiers—they must be taught a lesson. Harsh treatment of prisoners of war is part of that lesson."

"I understand, General."

"Then let's have no more criticism."

"You have my apology, sir."

"Accepted." Howe stood up and regarded him with interest. "You come at an opportune moment, Captain Skoyles. If you can convince as astute a judge of character as Charles Lee that you are really a rebel spy, then you might be able to bamboozle General Washington."

"What do you mean, sir?"

"The enemy has moved to Valley Forge, northwest of here. We need someone to get inside their encampment, to win their confidence by supplying intelligence about our army while, at the same time, collecting information about theirs."

"You must already have agents of some sort."

"Yes," said Howe. "There are plenty of Tories hereabouts who are only too ready to tell us everything they know about enemy movements. But we have nobody close to Washington himself. We must find a man to penetrate his inner circle, and I believe that I may be looking at him now."

"Thank you, sir. I'm flattered."

"Are you tempted by the assignment?"

"More than tempted," said Skoyles, thrilled at the prospect. "It has great appeal to me, General. I've been idle too long."