Tim and the Family Affair

Fifth in the Tim Euston Series

Roddy Thorleifson

(2020)

To see what they wore and what things looked like, check “Chapter Illustrations”

Characters, in order of appearance.

Timothy (Tim) Euston (17)

Roland (Lanny) Sweet (30) Oldest Sweet child.

Elizabeth (Bessie) Wright (25) Lanny’s sister.

Oswald (Ozzy) Sweet (24) Lanny’s younger brother.

Sarah (Sadie) Euston (15) Tim’s sister.

Alice Surrey (18) Petite blonde beauty.

Dennis (Denny) Sweet (18) Lanny’s youngest brother.

Abe (16) Dorothy’s slave.

Joe (36) Dorothy’s slave.

Cassie (20) Dorothy’s slave.

Calee (30) Dorothy’s slave.

Dorothy Sweet (49) Sweet mother. Widow of Elijah (69)

Harley Murphy (59) Friend. Committee of Safety.

Willy Williams. Friend of Denny’s.

Able Bass. (30) Dorothy’s neighbor.

Nat Willis. (40) Lanny’s neighbor.

Albert Surrey (50) Alice’s father.

Chapter 1

November 13, 1777.

West of Albany, New York.

The woods were wet from rain and the ice and the fallen leaves were slippery. Tim was thinking about the way Alice would laugh at her own jokes when he slipped and hit the branch. It caught his forehead and he fell back onto slimy brown leaves.

“Clumsy oaf!” he muttered to himself, looking up at the crooked branch. Someone must have twisted it years before and it had kept growing that way. The unnatural way it bent down made it look like the tree had deliberately lowered it.

Tim got up, picked up his hat, and checked it for damage. He pressed his hand against the injury, rubbing it to deaden the pain. It was already starting to swell. He looked for blood on his brown wool mitt but saw none. Thank goodness for that, he thought, hoping no one would ever know he had been so clumsy.

Where is he now? Tim wondered, looking ahead. He had been following a new friend named Denny. He was only year older than Tim’s seventeen years, but Denny’s military experience, both in training and distinguished service in action, made him a special friend.

Though the leaves had fallen, the woods were too dense to see far. Young trees had grown in thick on land where all but the tallest trees had been burned off, years before. About thirty paces away, Tim caught sight of a brown hat above the underbrush. Likely Denny, he thought and he hurried to catch up. Again he found himself thinking of Alice. Her last name was Surrey. It sounded like a name in a song and he tried to think of something that rhymed with Surrey. Hurry, scurry, furry...

This time he stumbled over a fallen branch. “Will you open your eyes!” he ordered himself in a loud whisper. Now his mitts were soaked. He got up and pressed on, pushing branches out of his way. He had lost sight of Denny and stopped to listen. He could hear footsteps, but it was more than one set of feet. Too embarrassed to call out, he continued on, hoping he was not going in a circle. It was hard not to do that on this sort of terrain. It was like being lost in a blizzard. If you were right-handed you would always err to your right and go in a circle.

But then Tim stepped out on a path. A farmer had likely cut it, both for firewood and to make it easier to go out looking for cattle or pigs. It was not more than a yard wide and was easy to follow. Both tame and wild animals had been using it, trampling the grass into muck. It was frozen now, but still hard to walk on because it was so uneven where hooves had sunk into wet earth.

Tim saw him, sitting on the ground, his hat off, his hand supporting the side of his head, and blood streaked across his face. He had been crawling, making it bleed around his ears and down onto his face. “Denny?” Tim asked, not too loudly.

The man looked up, squinting through blood. His hand was smeared with it. It was not Denny. It was his oldest brother, Lanny, who looked much like Denny, both tall with dark brown hair.

“Who’s that?” Lanny asked, in the self-pitying way of one who had been badly shaken.

“It’s Tim. You hurt?”

“I think I… The cursed…”

“What happened?”

Before Lanny could answer they heard a rifle shot, somewhere ahead of them. Maybe three hundred paces. It was hard to tell.

“It’s a yearling buck!” shouted Denny, his voice muffled by distance and low clouds. Or maybe he had descended into a hollow

“Got a buck, does he?” asked Lanny.

“Sounds like it,” said Tim as he pulled out a handkerchief and folded it over twice. “Hold this against it”

“Cursed… devil…” muttered Lanny, who took it and pressed it against the back of his head.

“Let me help you up,” said Tim, putting a hand under Lanny’s upper arm. With a heave he got him standing. “Your scalp will really bleed, won’t it?”

“Wait!” demanded Lanny, reaching out with his other hand, feeling about. His knees went out from under him. Standing up had drawn blood from his head and he was blacking out. He was a big man and Tim was just able to guide him to a sitting position.

“Lanny!” shrieked his sister as she ran up to them from behind, making Tim startle. “What’s happened to you?”

“Hit his head, looks like,” said Tim who had automatically thrown up his arms in a defensive posture, as if scared of her. Bessie Sweet was a big girl – taller than Tim.

“How’d you do this?” she demanded, as if blaming Lanny for his own injury. She took the handkerchief, examined the wound, refolded it, pressed it back against his head. He had come to again and she replaced her hand with his. Lanny’s hair was soaked with blood. Like most men, he had grown it long and tied it in a ponytail. “What happened to you?” she asked.

“He hit his head, somehow,” said Tim.

“And how’d he manage that?” asked Lanny’s younger brother, Ozzy. He had come up behind Bessie. They both had been carrying rifles. She had dropped hers and he had picked it up.

The four siblings had been waiting for any deer that might be driven towards them by four beaters. These were their mother’s slaves who had circled around, three miles ahead, and had then turned back, banging metal pots with sticks to drive the deer toward the hunters. Denny had explained that they could drive them to where two creeks ran parallel before they joined, to funnel the animals into the new growth. A deer could easily cross a creek but would more often choose not to. The hunters could keep themselves well hidden in the sort of dense woodland that an animal would naturally go to when frightened. So long as the wind blew the right way, the deer could not smell the humans and would have no warning.

“How’d you do that to yourself, Brother?” asked Ozzy.

“It doesn’t look too bad,” said Bessie, who was wiping up blood with another handkerchief while Lanny kept Tim’s pressed to the wound. “He just split the skin, is all.”

“Did you fall?” asked Ozzy. He was the shortest of the three brothers, but still bigger than most men. All four of the Sweet children looked alike, and they were a handsome family. Tim had only known Denny two weeks and had just met the others that day. They lived in a well-built house, they wore good clothing and owned expensive rifles. Obviously a prosperous family.

“What’s happened?” asked the plaintive voice of Alice Surrey, the girl Tim could not stop thinking about. She came up to them, her hands out as if begging to help.

“Looks like it’s just a fall,” said Ozzy. “What did you do to yourself, Brother? You climbed a tree again, I suppose?” This was not an unlikely explanation. A hunter would often climb a tree to get a better chance at a deer. They were not accustomed to threats that came from above. Shooting from a tree was dangerous, but often worth it. Hunters would sometimes build a platform along a trail where they had found the hoof prints of deer. They would leave it there for a few weeks, until local wildlife had grown accustomed to it. They could then return and sit on top, waiting. Some would build a comfortable bench, bring a book to read and a pipe to smoke.

“Cursed branch couldn’t hold me,” grumbled Lanny, sounding confused.

“Let’s get you up then,” said Ozzy. “Take his arm, Tim. We’ll get you up.”

“Careful,” ordered Bessie.

“Here we go,” said Ozzy. They helped Lanny to his feet. He took a step but again his hand went out and he crouched back down. They helped him back to a sitting position. “All went black, did it?” joked Ozzy.

“I can do it!” snapped Lanny as he blinked his eyes. “Just give me time!”

“Take a sip of this,” said Bessie, pulling a small bottle from her coat pocket. Ozzy had a bottle out too. Lanny grabbed the closest one and gulped down the last of it.

“That’ll do me good,” he said as he handed it back and wiped his chin.

“Let’s get you home then,” said Bessie. “Come on now, you’re getting your backside wet.” She put his arm around her shoulder. With Ozzy’s help they got him up. After swearing another oath he managed to keep his legs straight.

“I’m alright!” Lanny reassured them, though he clearly was not alright. His speech was slurred and his stance was unsteady.

“He was just coming to when I found him,” said Tim.

“Let’s get you back to Mom,” said Bessie, as if to a small child. Their mother’s house was only a half mile away. If necessary, he could be carried, though someone would have to run back and rig some sort of a stretcher. It would be better for him to make it on his own feet and not catch a chill while sitting and waiting.

“And where’s your rifle got to, Brother?” asked Ozzy as he handed Bessie hers and started back to retrace Lanny’s steps.

“Here you take it,” Bessie said, passing it to Tim. “Let’s go see what Denny’s got to brag about.”

“I can walk!” protested Lanny, sounding resentful. They formed a single file along the trail. Alice Surrey was with Tim’s younger sister, Sadie, and they stepped back to let the others pass. The two girls looked the same age, but Alice was eighteen and looked younger, while Sadie only fifteen but seemed older, especially when talking. Both wore blue wool cloaks that they held snugly around their necks as if the sight of Lanny’s blood had their own blood running cold.

“He’ll be all right,” said Tim to Alice as he took off his hat to scratch his head. “He’s just got a bump from a fall from a tree.”

“And what happened to you?” asked Sadie as she put her fingers to Tim’s brow to feel his lump.

“Oh! I just hit a branch,” Tim apologized. “And isn’t that a coincidence. Both of us bumping our heads at almost the same time.”

“It looks awful,” said Alice quietly as she came closer to gently examine it with her fingers. “Did you run into him from behind?” she joked.

“No no. I’d been with Denny but I’d fallen behind after I’d hit a branch. Then I found Lanny on the path. He’d been knocked out cold, I think. There’s mud on his knees so he must have come half to, and crawled around.” Tim then realized that the pain from his own injury had gone away as soon as Alice had touched it. It was as if by magic. Again he marveled at her eyes. The overcast sky seemed to made the green of her eyes all the more deep – a sort of a rich moss green. He wondered if he had ever seen eyes quite like that.

“You walked into a branch?” asked Sadie.

“That’s all,” said Tim. “I was looking for Denny. I’d fallen behind and I was looking for him and not for branches.”

“It must hurt awfully,” said Alice.

“He’s done it before and survived,” said Sadie.

“Oh dear,” giggled Alice.

“I’ll be fine,” said Tim.

“It’s a goose egg,” said Alice, again gently touching it. “You’re going to get an awful bruise. You might get a black eye – two of them maybe!”

“Let’s go see the buck,” said Tim, sounding embarrassed. “Did you hear him call? Denny’s got a buck.”

They caught up to the others and followed them towards the voices, moving at Lanny’s slow pace.

In a small clearing they found the animal strung up by a hemp rope slung over a branch. The young tree bent under the weight. It was a good size buck. They already had it bleeding and Joe, one of the Sweet’s four slaves, was slicing its stomach open to gut it. The hunting knife was sharp and he knew what he was doing. With two more quick slices he was pulling out guts and they were flopping onto the ground. Abe, another of the four slaves, pulled them to the side.

“Not a bad day’s work,” bragged Denny. “And what’s happened to you then?” he asked, noticing Lanny holding a blood-soaked handkerchief to the back of his head.

“Fell from a tree,” said Bessie. “Hoping for a bird’s-eye view. We’ve got to get him home. Come along now,” she whispered to Lanny and they started along the path to their house.

“He’s in good hands now,” said Denny, hoping to reassure the girls. “He’ll be dressed and dosed and put to bed, and will be well in the morning. Improved perhaps. And it’s not the first time he’s split his scalp. He mends fast.”

“Well I hope so,” laughed Alice. “He’s got important duties to discharge over the next few days, doesn’t he? And look at poor Tim, here,” she said, pulling his hat off. “That’s a goose egg, isn’t it? Just look at it!”

“You poor thing,” joked Denny. “Were you and my brother butting heads already?”

“Of course!” laughed Alice. “That explains everything.”

“I hit a branch,” sighed Tim. “And Lanny must have had already fallen from the tree. I found him sitting, but he’d bled across his face. He must have been crawling around, half unconscious.”

“Well he’s been knocked out boxing more than once,” said Denny to Alice. “And he’s always come back up to fight again. Likely by tomorrow he’ll be hard to work. As hard as he ever works.”

“Well, he hasn’t done any work yet today,” laughed Alice. They all had been drinking applejack and Alice was a bit tipsy. She had been talking to Sadie as they followed the hunters, and Sadie had to shush her more than once to stop her from scaring away the deer.

“He’ll likely not work for a day or two,” said Sadie. “He’ll at least have a headache.”

“I’d have gone to his side,” joked Alice, “had I not been afraid of how hard Bessie might have elbowed me aside.”

Everyone laughed at this, and Denny said, “It’s a wise thing to fear my sister’s elbow. I fear it myself.” At six foot two Denny was second only to Lanny, who was possibly the tallest man in the county. He was over a foot taller than petite Alice, who told people it was her dream to someday weigh a hundred pounds.

Chapter 2

A trail of blood.

“They seem to know what they’re doing,” said Tim as they watched the two male slaves, Joe and Abe, carry away the deer. They had it slung on a pole that rested on their shoulders.

“They do,” said Denny. “We’ve bagged quite a few here. The poor beasts never learn. Our father bought all the land for two miles north and two to the west.”

“That a lot of land.”

“Most of it’s woodland, though. But there’ll eventually be enough cleared for the four of us to live well. At least half of it’s worth cropping, and the rest is fine for grazing.”

“But for now it’s excellent for hunting.”

“It is. And with so many of the Indians and tories chased off out west, and with so many of our young men gone a-soldiering, there’s deer aplenty. The hunting’s never been so good.”

“And the girls are your mother’s too?” asked Sadie.

“They are,” nodded Denny. “And she’s got them well trained, too. That cheese you ate was of their making. And the applejack we’ve been drinking was made by a neighbor who traded it for twenty-two pounds of mincemeat that the girls made. You saw the orchard out back of the house?”

“We did,” said Tim. “She’s lucky to have good help.”

“You get out what you put in,” said Alice. “It’s a grand farm. When Bessie married, a year ago last spring, her father built them a good house is just a half mile west of here. It’s small but he had it ready for their wedding day. And almost a quarter of the land that they got is already cleared and broken. She’s hired a man to burn the stumps. He’s out tending the fires every day. He digs a hole under them and shovels in coals. That’s the smoke you can smell.”

“Bessie’s married?” asked Tim.

“Married and widowed already,” sighed Alice. “Poor thing. I hate to think of it.”

“That’s so sad. How old is she?”

“Twenty-three only. And she looks younger than that, doesn’t she? A big tomboy, she is. Have you seen her on a horse?”

“We only met her this morning,” said Tim. “Denny brought us with him and we just got here a little while before you. We’ve got fiddles and we’re going to be playing at the wedding.”

“Oh, how wonderful!”

“We walked forty miles.”

“In one day?” joked Alice.

“In two days we walked all but the last three miles of it. We ran out of daylight, though we shouldn’t have. The trails were dry enough. We stayed over at a neighbor’s. A man named Harley Murphy.”

“And I’ll bet Marg fed you well.”

“His daughter? Yes she did. And there’s another family there too. Refugees from out west.”

“Almost everybody has at least one or two. Or a whole family. There’s so many who need a place. Though most have now gone back east, to kinfolk. You heard about all the fighting and burning?”

“Oh yes!” said Tim. “And what we hadn’t heard already, we heard about from Denny while coming up.

“You walk forty miles and then he takes you both out on a hunt.”

“To keep us fit for work, I suppose.”

“Oh, but not your poor sister!” teased Alice. By now Sadie and Denny had gotten ahead of them. They could hear her laughing while he talked.

“Sadie can keep up a good pace,” said Tim. “Last summer we came up from New Jersey and we must have walked half the distance. And she carried a heavy pack too, for a girl.”

“And I suppose you carried nothing!” said Alice, pretending to be appalled.

“I carried hers and mine together, half the time.”

“Oh good for you then. That makes you the perfect man.”

“Do you really think so?” joked Tim.

“And what forced you to walk all the way up from New Jersey?”

“I was hoping to get in on the fighting.”

“No, you weren’t!” laughed Alice. “There wasn’t enough fighting down in New Jersey to keep you content?”

“There was, but it seems to have all moved away. It was over by the end of June when the last of the redcoats climbed on a boat and rowed across to Staten Island. So I decided to come here to join a Massachusetts regiment. We were told that the one I wanted had gone up here to help deal with Burgoyne. We’re from Boston, originally.”

“You didn’t fight there?”

“I was too young and too short.”

“How old are you now?”

“Seventeen last April. And I’ve grown too.”

“How old’s Sadie?”

“She was fifteen in May but you’d think she was twenty-five with the way she talks sometimes.”

“She does! But you don’t talk like you’re from Boston.”

“Well, we haven’t been there for four years. But still, everybody says that I’d be happier among my own kind. When you’re the only outsider in a regiment then you’ll be the butt of many a small prank. And soldier’s humor isn’t always the gentle sort.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Back in New Jersey, when I’d first got there, I’d been willing to join up as a private. But I got talked into believing that I could be a commissioned ensign, because I’m so well schooled and because I’ve done so much studying of officer’s manuals and military histories.”

“You’re like Denny then. He always has his nose in a drill manual. Though you wouldn’t guess it. He doesn’t look like a bookish sort, does he? But he and his friend, Willy. They’re always quizzing each other. Them and some of the others around here, too. And they’ll drill each other, just for the pleasure of it.”

“If only I was as tall as he is. It would have helped a lot. And too, Denny’s had a lot of training in the militia here. And he’d seen battle. I’ve drilled with militia too. They’d always let the boys join in, even if they wouldn’t take them along when called out to fight. You need lots of drill to be a soldier.”

“I’m sure.”

“And I was able to learn a lot from an old man, back where we lived before. He’d fought in the French and Indian War. I’d chop wood for him and then in exchange he’d put me through my paces. Me and a friend of mine.”

“You’d pay to be drilled!” laughed Alice. “Oh you must love it so.”

“Not just to be drilled. To learn how to drill others, too. I’d drill my friend and he’d drill me and the old man would find fault with the both of us. It’s what you got to learn if you want to be more than just a private. But… it didn’t turn out like I’d hoped.”

“You mean you never got to fight?”

“I never got to be a commissioned ensign.”

“Oh but honestly, how could you ever have been…”

“There’s been others as young as me who’ve made ensign!”

“The son of a general, maybe!”

“Yes, I know that now,” sighed Tim. “But at least I was able to go out with a patrol a few times. Just as a volunteer. And I was shot at by tory snipers! And I shot back too! I might even have hit one!”

“Oh Tim!” Alice joked. “That is hardly something for you to brag about!”

“No, I suppose not.”

“You’re supposed to let others brag about it for you.”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“I’ll brag for you!”

“Would you? That would be so kind,” joked Tim.

“And maybe soon you’ll be a drill sergeant, out shouting ‘till you’re hoarse.”

“Or light infantry. Going out on patrol. Raiding, maybe. If I join up in the spring, I could likely be into the light infantry within a year. Maybe sooner with all my study, and us drilling on our own. Then I could perform the sorts of feats of heroism that earn a man a promotion.”

“If you’re not killed!” Alice laughed, and gave him a gentle shove.

“Denny could be in the light infantry right away, just for the asking. I figure he should stop holding out for a commission and just get sworn and get fighting.”

“That’s what I’ve told him, too! He’s only eighteen, and though his father had land, he wasn’t wealthy, and he wasn’t an officer, nor was he even a committeeman.”

“No. But still he’s…”

“It’s always been that way, though,” interrupted Alice. “An officer ought to be gentlemen with a solid stake in society.”

“Some think it should be the measure of the man that qualifies him for an officer’s commission, and not the measure of his father’s landholdings.”

“Yes, yes. Poor Denny’s afraid the war will be over before he gets his chance to demonstrate his ability to lead men into battle. He’s distinguished himself in fighting, you know, in the Tryon County Militia. Back last August, when there was that horrible ambush, out west of here. You must have heard about it. They were going out to reinforce Fort Stanwix when they were surrounded by Indians and regulars. Denny was there with them and they say that when they were pinned down by sniper fire, Denny was up on his feet and shooting. Behind a tree, but still up. And Willy Williams too! The two of them were fearless. They say it’s a wonder they weren’t both killed.”

“He was telling us stories about him and Willy, on the walk here.”

“Some say that the two of them might have hit a dozen, each. But it was hard to say, for the enemy was always ducking behind trees or laying flat on the ground. But poor Denny’s still only a private in the militia. He’s quite frustrated.”

“He told us that too. And really, he ought to have a far better chance at a commission than some that have it already. The sons of richer men.”

“But it’s just as well though, isn’t it?” said Alice with a shrug. “For if they’d have taken him for an ensign, then he’d likely be dead now. He would have been with the fourth and they were in on the fighting out east – in on the worst of it. And who better for the snipers to aim at than an ensign, out carrying the flag, like he’s inviting the shot.”

“Well,” sighed Tim, “I suppose…”

“If you joined a Massachusetts regiment then why didn’t you march back to Boston with all the prisoners?”

“Well… I actually didn’t. I came all the way up from New Jersey, just to get sworn in as a ordinary private, and I couldn’t even do that much.”

“They wouldn’t take you for private?” Alice laughed with disbelief.

“I broke my arm.”

“What?”

“The day I got there I was asking around to find them, and a horse went wild and I was run over by a wagon wheel.”

“Run over!”

“How’s that for luck? The surgeon didn’t even have to set the bone. It was just a crack! I was in a splint for only long enough to miss out on the fighting. And at the farm where I passed my convalescence, I was only fifteen miles away from the fighting. I could hear the cannon fire clear as anything! I could have walked there to wish them all the best and been back home again for supper!”

“But had you fought you likely would have been killed.”

“No, likely not!” protested Tim. “There’s no more than... well… they say it’s a rare battle when nine out of ten don’t walk away. And that’s the ones who make it into the heat of it. That’s the truth. People are always exaggerating the danger. And there’s so many who are held in reserve, too, and who never get to fight at all.”

“Well I’m just glad you’re here and alive to complain about your misfortune,” said Alice as she took hold of Tim’s arm and gave it a squeeze. “You know, if the war and the killing goes on and on, then the girls will have to be fighting each other for what boys are left.”

“The war likely is over!” sighed Tim. “After a defeat like they suffered back at Saratoga – six thousand taken prisoner, with all their arms and equipment! And they must know about it by now, back in England. Well… pretty soon they’ll know if they don’t already. Imagine what they’ll think when they hear about it! Do you think that Parliament will want to pay for another army to be sent across the seas to make another try at it? Not likely. It’s probably all over and I’ll never get another chance.”

“We don’t know that it’s over. And besides, we should be praying that it is over. Don’t you pray for peace?”

“Well… of course I do,” grumbled Tim. “But I just wanted a chance to… make an account of myself.”

“Well I’m glad you’re live and whole,” teased Alice, putting her hand round his arm again. “How would you ever play your fiddle if you’d had your arm shot off and not just broken.”

“Well…”

“Your broken arm hasn’t stopped you from playing?”

“Well, I’m still not as good as I was, I don’t think. But I was back to playing in a week, with the splint still on. I kept taking it out of the sling. It bothered me to not be using my elbow. It’s like an itching.”

“You took it out and used it? You silly boy, you could have re-broken it! I know a fool boy who re-broke his leg. You know, when you re-break a bone you’ve got to wear the splint for three times longer.”

“But it was just a crack! You’re like my sister. She was always nagging me to go easy on it. She likes to nag. I think that splint gave her more pleasure than it gave me pain.”

“Well good for Sadie!” Alice laughed. “A boy needs a sister sometimes.”

“Yes, I know. She keeps telling me so.”

“How did the two of you meet up with Denny?”

“He came to the farm we were at. He was bringing in a man who fell off a wagon. After I broke my arm, I was invited down there by the owner. He was a sergeant in the militia and he saw me run over.”

“You worked for him?”

“Well, with my arm, I wasn’t much use for work. I spent most of the time playing with the kids – telling them stories and drilling them. I got them marching better than a lot of grown men can.”

“Oh, how good of you. They’ll be ready to die in the next war.”

“The man who owned the farm; he’d offered his barn for a hospital. It was a big one, even bigger than the one here. It was supposed to be temporary, but there’s wounded still there.”

“And you nursed the wounded?”

“Me and Sadie would play and sing for them. Try to keep them quiet. What with all their pains, they’re a grouchy lot – always bickering with each other. And being cooped up in a barn together just makes it worse. Especially on rainy days, and we had a few of them.”

“The poor soldiers.”

“It was actually Sadie who raised their spirits more than me. I suspect that half of them were dreaming of her for a wife. It was almost a kindness to get her away from them, to spare them the pain of unrequited love.”

“You’re not going back there?” asked Alice, sounding hopeful.

“No… and it was too crowded anyway. Don’t tell anyone yet, but Denny’s thinking that his mother will invite us to pass the winter with her. He says she’s always wanted to have music in the house and none of them ever took much interest in learning to play an instrument. And too, he says the county is pressing her to take in refugees, and he thinks we’ll help make her house look full enough Though we’re not really refugees, are we? We’re not seeking refuge from the fighting. We came for the fighting, not from the fighting.”

“Your little sister came for the fighting?”

“She could have stayed where she was in New Jersey. She’s handy and she’s been trained for dairymaid. But she says she needs to keep an eye on me. So that means I’ve got to keep an eye on her, and I have to find her a proper place to live.”

“Well, you’re a good brother then,” said Alice, again putting her hand on his arm, and this time taking hold of it and pulling it to her bosom, for just a moment. “Are you going to play for us tonight?”

“Well, if…

“Denny!” called Ozzy from behind them. He had run carrying two rifles and was winded. Sadie and Denny turned to wait. “I have made an interesting observation,” said Ozzy when they stood together. They were now close to a field and they all turned their backs against a cold wind.

“An observation?” asked Denny, sounding like he doubted his little brother’s ability to observe.

“It’s more a lack of an observation,” replied Ozzy. “I looked around where we found him. A few spots of blood led me to where I found a piece of deadfall with blood on it. It was at the bottom of a tree that would have been good for climbing. He might have started up and then fallen from it with his head landing on the stick. But there were no signs of his ever having climbed it – none of the mud or leaves that would have clung to his shoe. And it’s not likely that he climbed barefooted because he’d have had put his shoes back on, and how would he do that if he’s crawling around in a stupor. But… so, I think we’re going to have to consider the fact that the stick would have made a good little club.”

“You think somebody brained him?” asked Denny.

“He only complained of one sore spot, on the back of his head. If he fell, then…”

“The ground’s soft.”

“It is, except for where there’s a stick.”

“But who’d have wanted to brain him? Besides you and me, of course,” joked Denny.

“Well yes, he likely just fell,” said Ozzy, with a shrug, “but… it was me who first assumed he had fallen from a tree. I asked him if he had, and he might have just been agreeing with me because he wasn’t up to thinking, just yet.”

“He rarely is.”

“And he didn’t seem to know anything for sure.”

“When you’re knocked out cold when boxing,” said Denny, “you often don’t remember the punch that got you.”

“Tim,” Ozzy asked as he turned, “did he say anything to you?”

“Well…” said Tim, as he paused to think. “Just that he’d hurt his head.”

“Did you see anybody about?” Denny asked Tim.

“Ah… I’d fallen behind you but the woods were thick. Just before I found Lanny, I thought I caught sight of you. It was someone in a brown hat.”

“That was likely me then,” said Denny, lifting his brown hat and giving a little bow.

“Or me,” joked Ozzy as he raised his own hat. “Or either of Joe or Abe. We’re all in brown hats. Even the girls.”

“Oh stop this,” laughed Alice. “You don’t really think that…”

“I’m just suggesting…”

“Oh honestly! The poor boy fell from a tree,” said Alice as she turned to continue on to the house, “and you, Ozzy Sweet,” she said, looking back, “have got a vivid imagination.”

The Burgoyne that Tim refers to was British General John Burgoyne, who led an army into New York State by way of Canada in the spring of 1777. He brought his forces up the Saint Laurence River and through Quebec. In New York State, his progress was slowed by rough terrain and the guerilla tactics used by American defenders. The Continental Army, America’s regular army, was assisted by large numbers of militia, mostly from New England. Loyalist support for Burgoyne never came out in the numbers promised by loyalist leaders who had taken refuge in Canada the year before. Burgoyne was surrounded and on October 17th at the town of Saratoga, he surrendered the remaining 5800 soldiers, about a quarter of British forces in America. The prisoners were marched to Boston.

This story is set in November of that year, the third year of the American War for Independence. Fighting had started in April of 1775 when 700 British regulars tried to seize arms stored by local officials at the town of Concord, near Boston. (A regular is a soldier who usually serves for an enlistment of several years. Most irregular, or militia soldiers, served only three months.)

At first, the war went well for the rebels. In May of 1775 in upstate New York a large stone fortress called Ticonderoga was seized. Close to Boston, where the British were surrounded, regulars fought a very costly battle near Bunker Hill. After a long hard winter, the British evacuated Boston and sailed to Halifax, Nova Scotia. Then in June, a British navel force was driven back at Charleston, North Carolina.

Just as important was establishment of military control by rebel forces in the large majority of counties and towns throughout the thirteen colonies. After these successes, in Philadelphia, a Congress of representatives from the thirteen rebellious colonies voted on a highly controversial declaration of independence.

Most expected King George to negotiate a peace. Instead he sent 32,000 regulars – the largest army that had ever gone out from England. They captured the port of New York, cutting off access to the wide Hudson River. The well-trained and well-equipped British invasion force won a series of battles, gaining control of Staten Island, Long Island and Manhattan Island. British navel ships could quickly move troops to anywhere on these islands, making them impossible for American forces to defend. The colonial soldiers also fared poorly against the highly trained British and Hessian regulars in battles fought on open fields. The invaders went on to capture all of New Jersey, but during the winter of ‘76/’77 surprise attacks and other guerilla tactics allowed the rebels to force them back, retaking almost all the state. It seemed like the British would only be able to keep control of islands, and regions so remote from the thirteen colonies that they were the equivalent of islands, like Nova Scotia and Quebec.

A renewed effort to put down the rebellion in the warm months of 1777 had mixed results. A British invasion of Pennsylvania drove back the Middle Department of the Continental Army (America’s regular army.) The British captured the rebel capital of Philadelphia, and traditionally the capture of a nation’s capital meant the end of the war. But the Americans defied convention and refused to come to the negotiating table. The British found themselves in command of Philadelphia but, as with Boston two years before, they were surrounded by hostile territory. Then came Burgoyne’s disaster at Saratoga.

Chapter 3

Celestial fire.

“There you go. Drink it all down like a good boy.”

“Is that the price of your kindness, dear Sister?” asked Lanny as he looked at the cup. “I gain the benefit of your remedy so long as I bear the cost of your talking down to me like a child.”

“You’re right in that, Dear Brother,” said Bessie with a smile. “It’s part of the cure. Now drink.”

“What is it?”

“A spoonful of good laudanum in a effusion___ of wintergreen and willow bark. Just what’s needed to ease your pain and give you a good night’s sleep.” The fighting during recent months had lead to a shortage of laudanum, and calls had gone out for all that could be spared. Now there was an excess, and the price was lower than it had ever been. Dorothy’s supply had been carried overland from Boston, where it had been purchased from one of the many Dutch traders who defied the British blockade of American ports. The year before it had come to Amsterdam on the annual fleet of the Dutch East India Company.

“A good nights sleep and then a late morning’s sleep,” said Lanny before he took a noisy slurp. “Ugh! It tastes horrible!”

“If it’s doesn’t taste bad then it can’t be good for you.”

“Denny,” said Lanny, looking past his sister, “why don’t you have yourself a dose? Maybe it’ll cure that smirk on your mouth.”

“No, Brother, we have to save it for those who need it. Maybe I should go out into the woods and leap wildly from a tree.”

“An excellent idea,” muttered Lanny as he raised the cup to finish it. “You know, Ozzy, I’m thinking that what would do me good would be an application of your electrical stimulator. Something to vitalize my essence.”

“I’ve been thinking that too,” said Ozzie. “And this time I won’t even charge you for it.”

“I really don’t think it’ll do him any good,” said Bessie.

“Don’t worry, Sister,” said Ozzy. “Your medicine will be given all the credit if he recovers, and if he dies, the finger of blame will be pointed at me and my infernal machine.”

“And if you both work on him,“ joked Denny, “it’ll be less likely that either of you could be successfully convicted of his murder.”

“Don’t be a beast,” said Bessie. “No one’s going to die.”

“Of course not. And if he did,” said Ozzy, “They’d surely hang the one with the new-fangled contraption and not the one with the time-honored medicine, so you’ve nothing to fear.”

“And too,” laughed Lanny, “some good would come of it!”

“Here we’ve the instrument of torture,” said Ozzy, when he got his device out of its varnished wooden box. “Have you seen one of these before?” he asked Sadie and Tim.

“We did, down in the city,” replied Tim. “There was a demonstration at the market.”

“Ah, yes, and likely a quack with no understanding of the process.”

“No, likely he didn’t,” agreed Tim. “He was daring people to undergo the cure. He claimed it would cure anything.

“I’m sure that he did.”

“There was one boy – a friend of mine. He’d been calling out his clever observations. The man said he’d cure him of… something. It was some long word. He dared him to come up and we were egging him – calling him a coward. So he went up and the man gave him such a jolt – he jumped so high – let out such a whoop! Everybody was laughing! Everybody but his mother. She was afraid it’d killed him! But we couldn’t stop laughing!”

“Well, perhaps it amused you,” said Ozzy, “but it might have done him more harm than good.”

“He didn’t seem any worse off. He was angry but he tried not to show it. But his mother! She was madder that a wet hen. But it ended up doing him good because he pretended to be sick and his sisters had to do all his chores for the next week. He told us he was ‘waited on like a prince.’ ”

“So, it was a great benefit for him,” chuckled Ozzy. “Denny! Perhaps I should give you a treatment like he got?”

“No you don’t!” ordered Dorothy.

“I won’t, mother dear,” said Ozzy. “And I can’t anyways. My apparatus doesn’t generate that much power. And for my uses it’s not necessary. An electrical stimulator’s like a medicine. It can be used by marketplace quacks to trick and deceive, or it can be used by a knowledgeable and cautious healer for the doing of good works. I prefer to think that I’m among the latter group.”

“How does it work?” asked Tim as he examined the odd-looking apparatus.

“Well,” sighed Ozzy, “I can’t truly tell you how it works, any more than I can tell you how a candle creates light, or how a bell emits sound. But I could draw you a diagram and quote the learned texts and that would raise the level of your confusion to a higher plane.”

“That’s usually good enough,” joked Tim.

“And, I fear, I can do little to make that lump on your brow any smaller.”

“I’ve survived lumps before. I don’t even feel any pain.”

“You should have stimulated Tim right away,” said Denny. “Then you could have claimed credit for the lack of pain.”

“Alas, an opportunity lost,” agreed Ozzy. “Now, who wants to experience the benefit first?”

“Me, of course,” said Lanny. “I need it the most.”

“Of course, My Brother,” said Ozzie as he prepared the device. “The inquiry into the nature and properties of electrical fire,” he said in a lecturer’s voice, “now dominates the study of natural philosophy, both in London and throughout Europe. And our nation plays no small part in it, for it was our own Benjamin Franklin who proved that major discoveries can be made anywhere on earth and not just in the great centers of learning. You know, his insights were not taken seriously in England until after he gained recognition in France.”

“They thought that Franklin’s discoveries,” said Denny to Tim, “must have been made in France by someone who wanted to remain anonymous. They told each other that the real discoverer, or someone in his employ, must have gone to the colonies to find a comical eccentric, and feed him the information in a manner that fooled him into thinking he’d discovered it on his own.”

“I’ve heard about that,” said Tim with a smile, “I wonder if we’ll ever see ourselves raised in the estimation of Englishmen.”

“Burgoyne’s surrender at Saratoga was a good start towards that end.”

“We can only hope,” said Ozzy. “Now, Brother, have a seat here,” he said as he directed Lanny to a chair he had placed on top of a small platform. Its back was towards the table where he had his machine. “Now take a deep breath and clear your mind.” Ozzy took hold of the glass feet on one end of the machine and tilted it until a small ball on the end of a metal rod touched the back of Lanny’s head. They all heard a small snap and those close by saw the tiny blue spark.

“Is that all?” asked Lanny. “I barely felt a thing.”

“You shouldn’t have. You’ve suffered a grave injury and the goal is to stimulate your inner forces, not to make you leap out of a chair. I’ll leave that to the marketplace quacks. And, we should now wait a little while before I administer another stimulation. Who will be next?” asked Ozzy as he turned the crank to rub up another charge.

“Our honored guests,” suggested Denny.

“I… Oh… I would be very honored,” said Tim, stepping forward.

“Excellent,” said Ozzy. “Electrical fire – pure fire – to fire the vital essence of young Tim Euston. And as the great John Wesley has written, ‘For in truth there is but one kind of fire in nature, which exists in all places and in all bodies. And this is subtle and active enough, not only to be, under the great cause, the secondary cause of motion, but to produce and sustain life throughout all nature, as well as in animals as in vegetables. Yea, ‘tis the ‘constant, active, and powerful principle, constituted by its Creator, to keep the heavenly bodies in their several courses, and at the same time give support, life and increase to the various inhabitants of the earth.’ ”

“Oh,” sighed Bessie quietly to Sadie, while Denny was making another smart remark, “doesn’t it send shivers up your spine to hear Ozzy talk like that?”

“He recites it well,” said Sadie.

“Come now,” said Ozzy, who had overheard Sadie, “anyone can sound wise with such words as those. It’s John Wesley, after all.”

“I think,” said Denny, “it’s only a matter of time before we see our brother don the clerical collar, and we see him riding his horse from one settlement to another, spreading the word of Methodism.”

“Well isn’t he already,” said Lanny, “with his divine machine?”

“Do I sit in the chair?” asked Tim.

“Let me turn it to the table,” said Ozzy, “so we can apply it to that lump on your forehead.” When he finished turning the crank, he again nodded and Tim leaned forward. Ozzy touched the ball to the lump and they heard the snap.

“I feel better already,” declared Tim.

“Of course you feel better, for as the esteemed Richard Lovett wrote in his third dialogue, “the only instrumental cause of our being is this subtle spirit, or celestial fire… This fire, so tempered, fitted and adapted is the cause of all necessary circulations in bodies: The immediate agent and instrument in all earthly things. In a word, the pure ether or fire, contained in air, is the cause of all motion, animal, and vegetable.”

“Of course,” murmured Tim in a reverent voice. “How do you make it work?”

“When I turn the glass cylinder it rubs against silk, here, and the rest of the mechanism is designed to draw the fire to the ball, here. Simple, though obviously complex, for even the physicians of ancient Rome had no machine like this. And they had little understanding of the nature and quality of the electric fire it can produce. For that we had to wait for a man like Benjamin Franklin.”

“It’s such a blessing,” said Bessie to Sadie, “to live in an age when we can see such knowledge at work in such inventions as this.”

“Yes, and to hear it described by someone who actually understands it,” said Sadie, as she looked at Ozzy with eyes that beamed with admiration.

The use of electricity, for a variety of ailments, was a popular alternative to the advice of physicians, and to the drugs sold by apothecaries. The chapter illustration shows the portable machine that John Wesley advocated as part of his efforts to make medical care affordable for the poor. Wesley also led the popular Protestant Christian revival movement called Methodism. This, and similar machines, produced static electricity sparks like the ones you get in winter when the house is dry and you walk across a carpet and touch a doorknob. Much larger machines were built that could knock a man unconscious or kill a small animal. Twenty-two years later, in 1799, Alessandro Volta invented a battery that could produce a continuous flow of electricity. Twentieth century drugs and surgery led to a decline in the use of many electrical therapies. Ozzy’s quotations are from John Wesley’s, Deseratum; or, Electricity Made Plain and Useful, 1760, and Richard Lovett’s, The Subtil Medium Proc’d, 1756.

In the past, people would very often demonstrate their knowledge by quoting memorized passages from scholarly texts. What Ozzy calls “natural philosophy” was the early form of what we now call “science.”

Chapter 4

Toasting the King.

“And now,” said Lanny as he pointed his finger at Tim, “both sides in this conflict can claim that their victory is the greater. Both sides can, at the same time, despair of too many deaths, and of too great an expense. And what does that leave us with? All that’s needed for compromise. Doesn’t it? Both sides can begin to negotiate a peace without conceding defeat. And this is especially so because both the French and the Spanish sit like vultures, ready to pick at our bones – both ours and old England’s. I say it is high time for each side to offer a plea. Now is the time for concessions – to concede just enough to leave both sides mildly unsatisfied with the result – as is the case with all good bargains.”

Though droopy-eyed, Lanny kept going, sermonizing on the likely end of the war and the future course of world history. Denny would make the occasional witty comment and Lanny would pretend to ignore it. The men sat in chairs before the heat of glowing embers in the large fireplace. Ozzy had just got up to throw on another log, and had to step over Dorothy’s two mastiff hounds who were stretched out on a bearskin rug. One of them lay still and snored. The other would occasionally make yapping noises and moving his legs, as if dreaming he was chasing a rabbit.

“I suspect you are right,” said Tim with a nod. He actually did not agree with what Lanny was saying but felt it would be to his benefit to try to get on everybody’s good side. This was a large and well-built house, and it would be a pleasant place for him and Sadie to pass the winter, reading books and playing their violins. The barn and outbuildings were impressive too. They must have brought a lot of money with them when they moved west, thought Tim. Bessie and Dorothy were in the kitchen with the female slaves, working on dinner, and the smell of roasting venison trailed along after anyone who came through the door.

“What I think,” Denny called out over Lanny’s lecture, “is that it is time for a hot cup of flip.” He had noticed one of the female slaves come through carrying a tray and had guessed that the large pitcher held a mixture of eggs, sugar, applejack and beer. She had put a poker into the embers to heat, and when Denny poked it into the mixture it hissed loudly.

“But,” sighed Lanny after having stopped to think, “wise men have been wrong before.”

“They have,” agreed Denny as he passed out the cups, “so you’re being a fool is a benefit because you’ll probably be proven right in the end.”

“And what then?” Tim asked Lanny, hoping to keep him talking. “Will the King of England be the King of the United States?”

“Your music will be a tonic for the family,” said Alice to Sadie. “And at a time when it’s badly needed.” They were on the other side of the large room, sitting at the end of the long dining table and sipping their flip. The men had started into a debate over the recent promotion of a colonel to the command of one of the New York regiments. “It’s been only three weeks since their father died. He and Dorothy had been married for almost thirty years.”

“How old was he?”

“Old – twenty years older than her. And when news came of Burgoyne’s defeat – he’d been so worried. Burgoyne might have made it through and they might have attacked again from the west. And too, they might have burned everything as they went. Everybody was in a state of nerves but it seemed to bear down on him especially. And then, the day that news of his defeat arrived, when everyone was drinking toasts to victory, the old fellow went off by himself. Nobody noticed, right away. But later on, Dorothy found him dead. He’d gone out to the barn and had dropped dead while they were back in the house singing a song of victory. The doctor said that, even had he been there, it was unlikely that anything could have been done. Poor man. He was a dear old fellow.”

“What was his name?” asked Sadie.

“Elijah, but he was always called Lijah. He was a good-natured sort, on the surface at least. He was always teasing. Not like Denny but... in his own way. More gentle. And some said he was the best farmer in the valley. Though the land around here is so fertile that it’s hard not to do well. And the loss of him, on top of the loss of Bessie’s husband, Stephen. It’s been awful. Stephen was one of the men who died in the ambush at Oriskany, last August. One of the many. Three months already, it’s been. And poor Bessie, she thought the world of him. At first, she was saying she’d never marry again. I think that’s why she cried out when she saw Lanny down and bleeding – the thought of losing another. I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose both a husband and a father too, and in so short time.”

“She’d always lived here?” asked Sadie. Girls were often sent to serve in the home of a neighbor, to learn the domestic arts from someone other than their mother.

“She did, mostly. Dorothy never wanted any of them away for long. And then, when Bessie and Stephen married, they only moved a half-mile away. Lijah built a house for them. It was small but they could have added on. And Bessie was always close to her father. It was too sudden for her. And it was on top of so many friends and neighbors grieving. The whole valley’s half crazed with grief. Almost every family’s lost someone – and some two or three.”

Alice shuddered as she said this, and her brow furrowed as she fought back tears. It was in stark contrast to the laughter of the men over by the fireplace. Denny was telling a story about a practical joke. Sadie could hear enough to follow. In the story, Denny was on the ground, half paralyzed by laughter, and Bessie was looking to be about to kick him, and was only prevented by the timely intervention of their father. Denny finished his story by saying that his sister would make a better soldier then half the men in the valley.

“And with all the song and music you and Tim can offer,” continued Alice, drawing Sadie back to their dismal conversation. “It will help bring Dorothy out of her gloom. Wouldn’t you think so? All of them, too, perhaps? You can’t tell now by looking at them but they’re still wretched. They try to be brave but…”

“We know a few good sing-alongs,” said Sadie with great compassion in her voice. “And hymns too. We know all the good ones. They’re always a great consolation. Did Ozzie take it hard too?”

“Oh yes,” said Alice, quietly. “He and Bessie have always been so close. And he liked Stephen. They’re only a year apart. She’s the older. They were always together, I’m told, when they were small. There weren’t any girls her age nearby. But now that so much has happened, it seems like they’ve grown too close. Like they say, the despair of one feeds upon the sorrow of the other. I’ve tried to draw him away from her…”

“Ozzie seems quite the rationalist, doesn’t he?” said Tim, who had joined them. “His knowledge of electricity is...”

“He is a great reader,” said Alice. “Oh you poor dear! That lump of yours is getting bigger by the minute,” she said as she touched Tim’s brow lightly with her fingers.

“It’ll be fine. What does he like to read?”

“Oh, anything. They’re all readers. He and Bessie have studied all his father’s books on farming and Denny’s books on the military arts. Lately it’s been books of sermons. They think they’ll find consolation in them, but I don’t know that it’s helped. I find that sort of book to have the power to cure insomnia but… But I worry about them. Both of them,” she said, turning to Tim. “They’re truly the salt of the earth, but still…” and she started telling him the same as she had just told Sadie.

Sadie got up to go see if she could help in the kitchen. It was as impressive as the front room, with heavy beams in the ceiling, brass pots hanging from the walls and a large table before a wide fireplace. There were pots steaming over embers and one of the slaves was turning a leg of venison with a crank. Sadie tried to find something to do but Dorothy shooed her back out, assuring her that all would soon be ready and that there was little left to do.

Ozzy met Sadie coming through the door and asked her to join him at the table, at the other end from where Alice and Tim sat. One of the dogs was up for a stretch. Denny and Lanny had gotten out a backgammon table and were cheering on the dice.

“I’m hoping,” said Ozzy quietly, “that you and Tim will be serenading us later on.”

“So long as we’re coaxed,” said Sadie. “I’d hate to spoil your visit.”

“Oh, we’ve talked enough,” he chuckled. “It’s only Denny who’s been away and he needs no encouragement, as you can see.”

“He’s quite the storyteller.”

“It’s a gift. But it can be a curse when we’re a nation at war. A man can tell too many stories. Someday he might tell sensitive information to a spy. We’ve got to remember who we’re talking to, don’t we?”

“You are so right,” said Sadie, almost whispering.

“But I think we’re safe enough tonight. And too, everybody in Tryon County knows they should never tell Denny anything they don’t want repeated. In fact, if you want something to get around, you’ve just got to tell Denny to keep it a secret and then let his nature take its course.”

“Oh, now you’re exaggerating,” said Sadie as she glanced over to Alice who was leaning towards Tim, telling him something and looking as if she was back to the brink of tears. Lanny and Denny were laughing again but Tim was showing deep compassion for a girl who looked ready to die of sorrow. What a handsome couple they’d make, thought Sadie as she smiled.

“And then my poor cousin died of the small pox,” said Alice to Tim. It’s just been one misery after another.”

“I too have lost good friends,” said Tim, as he placed his hand round her forearm, “but time heals all wounds, as they say. And soon, things will seem better again and we’ll be able to look forward to peace.”

Alice looked back at him with grateful eyes – looking almost as if she wanted to kiss him. Uneasy, Tim turned away, and noticed a dirty look coming at him from Lanny.

Dorothy burst through the door, announcing that dinner was ready and ordering the table set. Joe and Abe were in blue coats with white braid, ready to serve them with elegance. They had likely just come up from the barn with only enough time to brush the manure from their shoes.

After all was on the table, they took off their coats and everyone sat down together. Dorothy was at the head, next the children from oldest to youngest. And then the slaves at the bottom, oldest male first, youngest female last. Everyone had a square yard of linen for a bib and Bessie was asked to say grace. She said a long one, mentioning the names of sick and suffering neighbors, and asking God’s protection for soldiers in their garrisons. When finished, Lanny rose, his cup of wine in his hand, and shocked Tim and Sadie by smiling at his mother and saying, “Send him victorious, happy and glorious, long to reign over us, God save the King.”

Is this a joke? wondered Tim. Has the blow to his head unsettled his mind?

Applejack can have an alcohol content as high as 40%. Ordinary cider, made by fermenting apple juice, is 3 to 8 percent. “Jacking” the cider turns it into applejack. In winter’s cold, the water in the cider forms into ice crystals. When frozen just enough, the remaining fluid is strained off. Repeating the process produces higher levels of alcohol. Once concentrated, it is cheaper to bottle, lighter to ship and can keep for years.

To make laudanum you slice up an ounce of opium, pour onto it a quarter-pint of boiling water and work it in a mortar until dissolved. Mix it into a half pint of strong whiskey and shake it well. It will be ready for use by the same time the next day. For someone new to it, the dose for an adult is a quarter to a half a teaspoon, depending on the severity of pain. It is also a effective remedy for diarrhea and has saved many who would have died from dysentery.

Chapter 5

It’s worse than that.

After dinner family and guests got together in front of the fireplace. It was a large stone structure with a hearth on two sides, each six feet wide, for both the front room and the kitchen. It tapered up to a chimney that was four feet square. Dorothy had ordered a hot cider punch made with cinnamon, cloves and dried orange peel. These exotic imports had been sent back two weeks before by Denny, who had won them at a game of cards. The unlucky gambler had bought them from a New England militia soldier who had come to fight, and had brought along a wagon loaded with both military necessities and goods for trade. Profits from sales went towards the cost of the expedition. Dorothy now had spices for the wedding feast and still enough to last through Christmas.

Ozzy asked Tim and Sadie to perform Greensleeves, a favorite of Dorothy’s. They had done it many times before and were able to sing in such sweet harmony that they brought tears to her eyes. Next they played The Girl I Left Behind Me, and even dopey-eyed Lanny joined in the singing and clapping.

“These two have been serenading the inmates of an army hospital,” said Denny. “And a miserable lot they are to try to please, I’m sure. Mostly prisoners-of-war, who weren’t up for the long hike to Boston. And they’ve all been there in a barn together, listening to each other grumble about the food.”

“What were they feeding them?”

“The food was good enough,” said Tim. “It’s all else that’s beset them that has robbed them of their good humor.”

“Missing legs?” asked Ozzy.

“Some. Both legs and arms. A hole in their guts for the worst off, though thankfully most of them didn’t suffer long. But it doesn’t take much of a wound to make you incapable of so long a hike. Some had just been sick with a fever and were slow to rally. It takes a hearty boy to walk all the way to Boston.”

“How long will it take them to get there?” asked Alice.

“It’s over a hundred and eighty miles as the crow flies and surely half again more with the twists and turns. Even light infantry can’t average better than twenty miles a day, when it’s day after day.”

“And what about a whole army?” asked Alice.

“Ten miles a day at best, but that’s usually only because there’s never enough wagons and oxen. Even with dry roads the ones who set off at first light are stopping to set up the new camp by midday so that all will be ready for the last ones who arrive at dusk. And it can be a fraction of that distance if they have to go cross-country and everybody has to wait for their pioneers to build roads and bridges. On his way down to his defeat, Burgoyne was averaging two miles a day.”

“And it must be worse with prisoners,” said Dorothy.

“Maybe not,” said Denny with a shrug. “They aren’t that hard to control. Where would a man go if he escaped? We’ve been having more problems with our own men deserting because at least they’ve a home to go to.”

“How long were you two at the hospital?” Alice asked Tim.

“Almost two months.”

“It was worse for Tim,” said Sadie, “because I was in the house. He was out in the barn with the wounded after it got too cold for him to sleep in his little tent.”

“It wasn’t so bad,” said Tim. “I knew they didn’t mean all they said.”

“Music and song helped them a lot,” said Sadie. “And it so warmed our spirits to see them come to life once we got them singing.”

“Some are unable to do anything but lie about,” said Tim. “It’s the tedium as much as the pain that drives them to distraction.”

“It must be so wonderful,” said Dorothy, “to have such a gift, and to be able to ease their suffering with music and song.”

“It’s truly a shame,” said Denny, “that the major didn’t want Tim and Sadie to stay longer. But, I suppose he’s only so much money to spend and music can’t be justified as a military expense. Not unless they’re entertaining the officers.”

“So the two of you were homeless strangers working for your keep?” asked Dorothy.

“Earning their room and board in any way they could,” said Denny in a sad voice. “And they still are – looking for a house to take them in, poor things.”

“Are you now?” said Dorothy with a smile. “Well then you’ve found a home and you’re going to stay right here. I’m needing to take in somebody, what with so many refugees from out west. We’re all being asked to do our part and then some. I had a few here for a while but they’ve gone east to where they’ve got cousins. I’ve been expecting more to replace them and I could do worse than two who can fill my home with music.”

“That would be so kind,” said Sadie.

“And truly we’ll work hard for our keep,” said Tim. He was trying to sound grateful but he had reservations. He had been looking at Lanny and wondering about the toast to the King. Is it safe, Tim wondered, to stay here? Or should we be running straight to Albany to report him to the committee?

“Well, this is grand!” said Dorothy. “We’ll be able to have a twilight sing-along every night. I’ve always wanted that. I paid a fiddler for lessons but none of my children ever took to it.”

“It is a gift, mother,” said Bessie. “It’s not that we didn’t want to.”

“Well you could have practiced more.”

“And so could you have, mother. Didn’t Mary Hill learn to play the guitar by playing lullabies to her babies?”

“Tim,” said Denny as he stood up, “come join me for a pipe. It’s time these dogs got some air.”

“Of course,” said Tim, though he rarely smoked.

“Mother won’t abide a pipe in the house,” said Denny. “She thinks I’ll burn the place down.”

“And it wouldn’t be the first house that did,” said Dorothy.

“But I don’t mind going outside,” said Denny as he got up. “The smoke always tastes better in the fresh air. Especially when it’s cold. Don’t you think so?” He filled two white clay pipes and handed one to Tim. The lit them before they went out by scooping up a small ember in the fireplace.

“Are you wondering about the toast to the King?” asked Denny, after they were outside. The dogs had charged past and under the moonlight they chased each other through fresh snow.

“Well…”

“You’ve nothing to fear. We’re a good patriot family for the most part – true to the cause of liberty and justice for all. My poor old mother’s only a temporary exception.”

“Your mother?”

“And that’s only been the last little while. Gone a bit soft in the head, she has, what with war and death and more death. You know we lost our father, not even a month ago.”

“Yes, I’d heard that and...”

And my brother-in-law too, in battle, at Oriskany. Downed by a sniper’s ball. Bessie’s husband, he was. Mother took it as hard as any. He’d always been a flirt and a flatterer. And he showed lots of promise as a farmer. The perfect son-in-law, he was. So… we’re a family of honest patriots but we’ve got to claim otherwise when in our home, for the benefit of our poor mother.”

“Oh.”

“You see, she’s blaming the deaths on what she’s calling an unnecessary war caused by a foolhardy declaration of independence. My father had always been a bit lukewarm in his support for… Well he only signed the Association after a bit of gentle pressure. Same with his oath to the State. He had to be coaxed.”

“Oh.” They were quiet as Denny drew on his pipe.

“But a lot of them were that way – especially the old folks. And then this past spring, when Burgoyne came to Canada with so large an army, he and Mom were thinking Burgoyne would make fast work of the rag-tag army we had up there. And they didn’t think much of our militia either. And with good reason, I suppose. He’d come out and train with the rest of us but… really he was too old.”

“Of course.” Tim puffed on his pipe, that had almost gone out.

“So, our father was a patriot and a good taxpayer, but until the victory he was sure that the arrival of Burgoyne meant the end of the war. Both of them thought so, though they kept quiet in public. And then, after their beloved Stephen was killed at Oriskany… well. We wondered whether Mom might have a fit of tears and temper out in front of neighbors, and end up getting the two of them packed off up to Canada with the rest of the tories. And if that happened, then we’d likely see all our lands seized and we’d be left penniless. So we begged them to keep quiet and kept reminding them of what it’d be like to see the family torn apart. We were sure they’d come around eventually, but...”

“And Lanny?”

“Oh he’s for the cause. He just offered that toast for mother’s sake, to pacify her. We all do it. You see, when Burgoyne surrendered, it was... well when you’ve been all keyed up for so many months, then even good news can come too suddenly. It was all too much for old dad, I suppose, and he just dropped dead. A heart attack, the doctor said.”

“Yes, I’d heard.”

“And since then, our mother’s been… well she’s as bitter as ever and blames it all on the revolution.”

“Well, it’d be a hard thing.”

“Indeed it would be, and… but at least she’s been able to keep her opinions within the family, and she’s put up a good front for visitors. As you’ve seen.”

“She seems well enough.”

“She knows what it would cost to declare herself. Our friends and neighbors all know about it but they realize she’ll surely come around, eventually, once she’s had time to grieve. And it’s not like she’s actually been doing something to aid the enemy. And anyways, the tories that she might have helped are over in Canada. Our Committee of Inspection’s seen to that. Except, of course, for those who’ve never declared themselves. Unless Alice is the ‘little woman’ who is said to be a spy around here.”

“A little woman?”

“It’s a code word they’re using in Canada. It probably refers to a big man.”

“You’ve contact with Canada?”

“We’ve our informants, just as they have theirs.”

“I suppose.”

“So, you’ve little to fear from being here. Just try to bear with Mom’s foolishness and bit by bit we’ll get her around to the right way of thinking.”

“Of course we will,” said Tim with a smile, though he knew he did not have much of a choice. They could hardly refuse Dorothy’s offer of a place to stay. They had heard about refugees cooped up in barns. Tim knew that he and Sadie could hope for little better, not being from the region. And now that the snow had fallen, a walk back to New Jersey could come at the cost of frozen toes. In Dorothy’s house, they could live in comfort. He could go on studying military manuals and preparing for the day he might be promoted to sergeant, and then maybe ensign. They risked being associated with a traitor, but the temptation to accept the was overwhelming.

“And there’s something more,” said Denny, now sounding like he was about to say something funny.

“You’re a tory spy?” joked Tim.

“No, no,” Denny laughed. “It’s worse than that. You know the girl you’ve been making sheep’s eyes at, all the day long? Well… I suppose I should have told you right away but…”

“What?”

“She’s the one who…” and he paused to tease Tim with suspense.

“What?”

“This coming Sunday… Alice Surrey… will be bride to my brother, Lanny.”

“Oh,” said Tim after a long pause. “Well… I’ll have to congratulate them.”

“Yes, he’s been a-courting her for months now. An odd couple, wouldn’t you say? Her so short and him so tall. And him such a preacher and her such a sprite.”

“Yes,” said Tim with a shrug.

By now the others were up and preparing for bed, except for Lanny who was in a wooden armchair, snoring. The dogs charged in and ran round him barking. One put his large wet paws on Lanny’s knees and tried to reach his face with his tongue before Dorothy chased him off and ordered him onto the bearskin. Lanny snorted, coughed and woke up.

“That must have been quite a knock,” said Bessie as she looked at Lanny rubbing his eyes.

“Broke his landing though,” joked Denny.

“He might have wretched headaches for a while to come,” said Ozzy.

“Perhaps another stimulation’s in order?” suggested Denny.

“Perhaps we should put him to bed,” said Dorothy. “He’ll need his sleep. Let’s put him on the bedstead.” This would be a special honor because, like most houses, there was only one bedstead, a four-posted work of fine carpentry in the corner of the front room. The others only had bedrolls. During the cold season they were rolled out in the half attic where it was warmer. The men would be together under one stack of blankets and the women under another. When one decided that it was time to turn over, he or she would wake the others and order them turned as well. But by morning, before the fires were built up, they would be grateful for the warmth they could provide each other.

When he was pulled out of his chair, Lanny could only stand with one arm around each of his brother’s necks. He needed coaxing to complete the task of undressing and was sound asleep again as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Signed the Association? In 1774 the First Continental Congress, called for a trade boycott with Great Britain. It was called the Continental Association___. All were asked to sign a document promising not to buy goods imported from Britain.

The Battle of Oriskany was fought on August 6, 1777, near the Mohawk River, one hundred miles west of Albany. Militia General Nicholas Herkimer led 800 soldiers of the patriot Tryon County Militia, along with allied Oneida Iroquois. They were on their way to relieve a siege at Fort Stanwix when they were ambushed and defeated by 450 Loyalists and their allies, mostly Mohawk and Seneca Iroquois. This was one of the few battles in the War for Independence where almost all participants were North American. Taken by surprise in a small valley, the patriots suffered at least 450 killed or wounded, but managed to inflict 150 casualties on their attackers. This success was offset by a simultaneous sortie from Fort Stanwix, where patriot solders sacked the enemy camp, capturing valuable supplies, including the men’s personal belongings. This undermined enemy morale, especially among the Iroquois. Both white men and native Indians were persuaded to come out and fight with promises of opportunities to enrich themselves by plunder.

Chapter 6

Playing the devil’s advocate.

“The question has to be asked,” said Ozzy quietly as he strained to help his older brother out of bed. It was mid-morning of the next day and Lanny still could only barely be roused. Ozzy and Denny had agreed that, once he was standing, the fear of falling would revive him completely.

“Up you go!” said Bessie, almost shouting. She and Ozzy each had an arm over their neck.

“Let go of me!” muttered Lanny. They let him go but stayed close. He remained standing.

“Good for you, Brother!” said Bessie.

“The laudanum,” Ozzy whispered to his sister, behind Lanny’s back, “must have contained more opium than it was supposed to – a lot more.”

“Oh, don’t say such a stupid thing!” replied Bessie. “I’d like to see how fast you’d wake up after such a fall.”

“Assuming it was a fall,” said Ozzy with a nervous look at their mother who was coming through from the kitchen.

“And how is my biggest boy this morning?” Dorothy asked Lanny.

“Well if it wasn’t for these two,” he replied in a hoarse whisper. “I’d be better.. I think I’d…” but his voice trailed off as if he could not form a clear thought.

“I hadn’t thought about times like this,” whispered Alice to Sadie, on the other side of the large room. The two of them were sitting at the table with Tim and Denny, drinking hot beer.

“You hadn’t thought about when you might have to help him out of bed?” asked Sadie.

“I hope we’ll always have a hired man who’d be strong enough to do it for me.”

“But think of all the old bachelors that live alone in their hovels.”

“Well…” said Alice, “I suppose they manage somehow.”

“Until they freeze for want of firewood,” said Denny. “But I suppose it’s the price of freedom, isn’t it? Freedom from a nagging wife.”

The girls just gave him a look and then turned back to watch Lanny. He seemed to be doing better.

“It can take a long time to recover from a blow to the head,” said Sadie. “We had some like that back at the hospital. There was one fellow who’d been grazed by a musket ball. He couldn’t tie his shoe for a month. He’d start off all right and then he’d get mixed up. Lanny wasn’t carried unconscious off the field, and he wasn’t still out cold after the fifteen miles on a wagon – on a rough road. It was the next day before the poor soldier came to. And when he woke up he was talking to men who weren’t there, like he was still dreaming while awake.”

“Lanny will likely be himself again in a day of two,” said Tim to Alice in a reassuring voice. “Maybe a headache, and that’ll be all.”

“Well, I hope that’s all,” laughed Alice. “He’s got a wedding to attend and I’m afraid he might forget.”

“We’ll remind him,” joked Denny as he reached across the table to gently pat her hand.

“We should do some work on Lovely Nan,” said Tim to Sadie. That morning, Dorothy had asked them if they knew it. Tim could remember the melody and with everyone’s help they had recollected the lyrics. He felt that, with only an hour or two to work it out, he and Sadie could perform it in a simple harmony.

The barn was built in the Dutch style with a gambrel roof. Elijah had found a carpenter named Dijk who had refused to consider the traditional English design. The horses and cattle were still in their stables and threw off enough heat to make it comfortable for bare hands.

“Does Ozzy really believe someone did something to the laudanum?” asked Sadie as she rosined her bow.

“It sounds like it,” said Denny, who had just come in. “And he’s wondering whether it’s the same scoundrel who brained him in the woods.” His voice hardened as he said this and he took hold of the collar of Tim’s coat, as if he had just captured the prime suspect.

“Does he often suspect a conspiracy?” asked Tim with a smile.

“Oh… not more than a lot of people these days,” sighed Denny after letting Tim go. “Isn’t everybody imagining tory plots to sell us back into the slavery of excessive taxation.” He said this as he selected a piece of leather from a shelf and turned to go back to the house.

“If someone was trying to poison him,” said Tim to Sadie after he was gone, “then I don’t think they’d want to put the poison into the medicine bottle on the shelf. They wouldn’t want someone else to drink some and suffer the same effects, and raise suspicions. They’d be better off putting it in his cup. And if they wanted to kill him you’d think they’d use white arsenic so there’d be no taste of it, and to make it look like he was just sick. They say dying from too much arsenic isn’t a lot different from dying of a bloody flux.”

“Unless they wanted him dead fast,” said Sadie as she adjusted the violin strings to get them in tune with Tim’s. “It takes days to die from arsenic. That’s what old Mable Hutton told me. If you give them too much at one time they’ll just puke it up. It takes weeks, sometimes. And anyways, adding more opium wouldn’t have much of an effect on the taste of laudanum because it always tastes horrible.”

“I suppose.”

“And you never know how much laudanum it’ll take to do the job. What’ll kill one man will just give another a good night’s sleep. And too, the same person could afterwards have poured out the tampered medicine and replaced it with some untampered that they’d set aside before. The bottle would just go back onto the shelf, in the kitchen, like always. And it wouldn’t be strange for a man to die in his sleep after a blow to the head like he’d got.”

“No, I suppose it wouldn’t,” said Tim after a pause. He was trying out notes on his violin.

“He seems quite concerned about our wellbeing, doesn’t he?”

“Denny?” asked Tim.

“No, Ozzy does. He was asking about us.”

“You told him we’re for the cause, didn’t you?”

“Of course,” replied Sadie, as if it was a foolish question. “Dorothy wasn’t there to hear it, though.”

“You heard she’s a tory?”

“She’s only gone that way recently! Just because…”

“What are we going to do?” interrupted Tim, throwing up an arm. “Are we going to start toasting the King?”

“I suppose we’ll have to,” said Sadie after a pause. “That or seek refuge elsewhere.”

“It is nice here. And Denny says the rest of the family are good and true to the cause. They’ve just got to put up with her opinions, until she comes around. He says she’s been blaming the cause of freedom for her husband dying. He died on the day he heard of Burgoyne’s surrender.”

“Yes, Alice told me.”

“She just needs time to grieve, he says. And that’s what the neighbors think too.”

“Why, it’s almost warm in here!” said Alice cheerfully as she came in.

“At least our fingers won’t be going stiff,” said Tim.

“I’ve come to practice with you,” said Alice. “You won’t mind listening to me try to sing, will you? I’ve got to do more to please a future mother-in-law and your talents have shown me what appeals to Dorothy Sweet.”

“A good idea,” said Tim. “You’ve a lovely voice.”

“Oh, I’ve an awful voice. I’ll sing quietly so she’ll just hear you two, and maybe I’ll fool her into thinking that Sadie’s voice is mine.”

“Is Lanny awake yet?” asked Sadie.

“He’s eating breakfast Though he’s slumped over his bowl like a workhouse dullard. He was talking with his mouth full. I had to rap him on the head with a spoon.”

“Sounds like you’re married already,” joked Sadie. “He’ll likely be slow to wake up for a good while yet.”

“And less of Ozzy’s theorizing! The poor oaf wasn’t even half awake yet when Ozzy was telling him that somebody was trying to kill him. Ozzy even thinks somebody might have spiked his medicine. Honestly! I wanted to rap his head too! Imagine hearing that when you’re feeling so wretched.”

“I’m sure he just meant well,” said Sadie.

“I told Lanny that if he actually had been attacked by a villain skulking about, then it was a good thing that Tim was there because he likely scared him off before he was able to steal his precious rifle.”

“Do you think it might have been an attack?” asked Sadie.

“Oh, of course not!” huffed Alice. “He’s climbed trees to shoot at deer before. Denny said so. Deer are too stupid to look up. Ozzy is just making it up. And he’s a very good at it too. He’ll scare the hair off of the little children with his stories.”

“And you think he was probably just slow to wake up because the fall?”

“Well of course! Who’d want to poison Lanny Sweet? Besides me, of course. But… if somebody did try to, it’d have to have been somebody in the family. Wouldn’t it? And the same when we were out in the woods – nobody else would have known we were going to go hunting. They’d not planned it. And the house wasn’t left empty. Dorothy was there, and likely in the kitchen the whole time. How could somebody have crept in and tampered with bottles on the kitchen shelf? It’s silly to speculate! And who’d ever want to poison Lanny Sweet?”

“Well,” said Sadie with a smile, “he does seem like a man who knows his mind and isn’t afraid to share it.”

“We’re living an era of strong opinions,” said Tim. “A man of firm principles could have enemies he doesn’t know about.”

“Oh, not you too!” laughed Alice. “Though…” she said, thinking. “I suppose Lanny does have his opinions. You should see him down at the tavern, debating the great issues of the day. He could be a lawyer. It’s a shame he never had the chance. He wanted to be bound to a city lawyer but old Elijah wanted all his boys to be farmers. He didn’t think much of lawyers, or merchants either.”

“What does Lanny advocate?” asked Tim.

“Oh, everything and anything. He’ll go to the tavern in Schenectady and debate military tactics. He’ll even defend General Gates, just to heat things up.”

“They don’t like Gates here either?” asked Tim.

“Well he’s the Virginia man who never should have replaced the good and godly Phillip Schuyler. Lanny will get the Dutchmen all worked up and then they’ll think he actually believes all that he says.”

“Well… I suppose,” said Tim, “but… still, you don’t kill a man just for defending the general from Virginia.”

“Of course not,” said Alice. “And that’s why we can assume that nobody tried to kill him.” She started to walk away but then paused and turned back. “Though, when I think about it, if ever there was a man who went out after him with evil intent, then it would surely be a slave or a bound servant. Not one of the ones here, though. Dorothy treats them like family, almost. It’d surely be some fool boy who’d run off after a caning. Because it’d usually have been Lanny and his dogs that’d hunted him down. Not these stupid beasts here, they’ve been spoiled rotten. It’d be the dogs that Lanny’s got back where he’s at now – where we’ll both be, come Sunday. They’re good hunting dogs and they’ll chase down a runner and once they’ve got their teeth in them they’ll hold on, no matter what.”

“He trains them?”

“He’s got the gift. The patience. Which is strange, because they’re the only things he’s ever has patience with. And he’ll fight them too. There’s a lot of betting on dogfights hereabouts. You’ll be out to see one soon enough,” she said, turning to Tim.

“I look forward to it,” Tim replied, though he really did not.

“Some will bring their slaves along to watch the fights, and it won’t be just for their amusement. They’ll be there to see what the dogs will do to them if ever they’re fool enough to run off.”

Cattle and horses actually can heat a barn. A large mammal gives off three to four thousand BTUs, so a standard 1000 square foot home in Upstate New York could be fully heated through the month of January by as few as ten, kept on the lower level. In past centuries, both house and barn were in the same building.

Slaves made up about 20% of the population of the thirteen colonies and 5% of New York State. They would often have been called Negroes by the better educated. Ordinary people would have used the n-word, a term that existed in many languages and stems from the Latin nigrum which means black. The n-word was an informal term, and its use was associated with poorer education and lower social status, like saying “ain’t” instead of “isn’t.” During this era of rapid developments in modern thought many were beginning to regard slavery as immoral, and some began to consider the n-word to be offensive.

Blood sports, like dog fighting, had been briefly banned in the 1600s by puritans, because they felt it encouraged drunkenness and laziness, that in turn would lead to the greater sins listed in the Ten Commandments. Laws to prevent cruelty to animals came later: England in 1822, France in 1850, and New York State in 1866.

Chapter 7

A convenient scapegoat.

“But don’t go betting what you can’t afford to lose,” said Denny with a smile. He had arrived in time to hear Alice talking about dogfights. “At least not without Lanny’s advice. He can smell a winner.”

“Or so he claims,” said Alice. “He says he can recognize a good attitude in a dog – and that he can judge a man in much the same way. He thinks his training of dogs has allowed him insight into the hearts of men.”

“And of women too, no doubt,” joked Denny.

“Yea, indeed, no doubt,” said Alice. “I’m to be well trained. A good little bitch, he’ll call me.”

“Oh don’t say that!” huffed Sadie.

“Well we may as well be honest about it,” said Alice. “And really, can we ask any more of a man?”

“No no Alice,” said Denny, “you judge the poor man too harshly. Were Lanny truly thinking that way then he’d have cast you off for runt and gone a-courting Sarah Wallace, for she’s big and strong and docile and dutiful and, best of all, she’s got the well built hindquarters of a good breeder.”

“She does, that!”

“So his love for you must be the unreserved love of a man possessed of a true nobility of spirit.”

“Yes, it must be that!” laughed Alice. “I am so lucky a girl, to be loved in spite of my shortcomings. I’d best go remind Lanny of how noble of spirit he is, in case he’s having any second thoughts. I’ll tell him about your theory, and pass it off as my own.”

“She has revealed for us the motive of a killer,” said Tim to Denny, after he watched Alice crouch down to go back through the bottom half of the door. “The killer could have been a slave or a bound servant that Lanny’s hunted down – a defiant boy who was captured and brought back for a whipping. And likely there’s been more than one of them.”

“Or,” said Sadie, “it could be a man who fights for the liberty of all men, rich or poor, and who’s acting on the behalf of those less fortunate than himself.”

“You should tell that to Ozzy,” said Tim. “It’d help him with his theorizing.”

“It would,” agreed Denny. “But we needn’t go that far to find the motive of a culprit. Mom’s slave, named Joe, the older of the boys, he’s been pining for the woman that he wanted for a wife. She was a girl who worked here just long enough to capture his heart. And now she’s gone from him forever. She was a good-looking girl, and maybe that was her downfall, for a good looker will grow proud when she’s not had a proper grounding in Christian humility. At least that was what Lanny said about her. Mom had been trying her out. A neighbor still owned her. She was just here for a couple of months.”

“Did the other slaves know that he wanted her?” asked Tim

“They must have,” said Denny with a shrug. “Joe and Abe are usually over at Lanny’s, clearing fields, but sometimes they’re needed here. And that was often enough. He never said anything to Mom, but since the girl’s been gone, he’s been a sad sack of bones.”

“Where’s she gone to?” asked Sadie.

“She’s thirty miles east of here, so she may as well be a hundred. And it was at Lanny’s insistence that she was sent off. And the girls here could have heard Lanny telling Mom to get rid of her, and they could have told Joe about it. Lanny wouldn’t have kept it from them, or anybody else. He might have told Joe, himself.”

“Is he always judging people’s worth?” asked Tim.

“Oh yes yes,” said Denny. “And I’d hate to hear what he has to say about me. He’d likely have me on an auction block too, if he could.”

“So,” said Tim with a furrowed brow, “a broken-hearted Joe might have come upon Lanny and, on an impulse, could have decided to exact his revenge. He could have done it when the leaves were wet enough for him to sneak up, and when all of Lanny’s faculties were focused upon a deer that might be coming up the path at any moment.”

“He could have,” said Denny. “The beaters are supposed to stay well back, to avoid getting shot by accident, but that’s in a perfect world. They stop their beating when they get too close. You don’t want the deer to run past too fast. So sometimes they even get ahead of the deer. A deer will often hide and try to make an escape after the beaters have passed by.”

“And Joe,” said Tim, “could have brained him with the stick that Ozzie found the blood on. And he might have thought that the blow was likely to be fatal. And too, he could have assumed that Abe would lie on his behalf.”

“And the two of them,” said Denny, “would still have had enough time to get back to where I was, just before Bessie cried out. I was looking at the buck when they came up behind me. They would have had time enough to do the deed and get straight back to work, as if nothing had happened.”

“But I don’t think you should hang them yet,” said Sadie. “Lanny could still have just fallen from a tree.”

“He could have,” said Denny, “but… it could also have been one of the girls, Calee and Cassie. My mother’s other two. They’d been beating too and they’d come out of the woods at about the same time as Joe and Abe. They’re strong girls – strong as a lot of men. They’ve always been well fed and they’ve chopped a lot of wood. And they’d surely have heard Lanny telling Mom that she risked spoiling them, just like the girl she sent back.”

“Casting judgment again?” asked Sadie.

“Lanny has an opinion on everything. And Calee and Cassie could have been nursing a grudge for a long time. And they did have a bad example to follow in Joe’s sweetheart. She could have infected them with defiance and pride, and that could have built into rebelliousness and hatred. I heard Lanny warn Mom that that might happen – and I’ve heard him say it more than once.”

“He’d say it right in front of them?”

“No, likely not. He’d say it in the front room while they were eavesdropping at the kitchen door. But he’s always talking like that. He’ll give officers advice about their men, with them standing right there. He’ll give farmers advice about their horses, and...”

“And the list of suspects,” interrupted Tim, sounding as if he was deep in thought, “would have to include a third pair. It could have been Bessie and Ozzy, because they’d been together, and the person who’s first to point a finger is often the one who needs to deflect blame onto another.”

Denny laughed and said, “Everyone around these parts know what the two of them have had to say about their oldest brother – and about their youngest too.”

“What’ve they said?” asked Tim.

“Well…” started Denny but then he hesitated, as if thinking it over. “Lanny used to bully them a lot. Father would cane him for it but that’d just make him try to conceal it. But to his credit, Lanny’d also victimize any other boy who tried to pick on them. It was like he claimed the sole right to practice his talents upon them. His verbal talents on Bessie and his wrestling talents on Ozzy. He’d tease him and goad him into a fight and then he’d pin him to the ground and twist an arm or a leg ‘till he begged for mercy. I was just lucky Ozzy was there for him, for likely otherwise it’d have been me who’d have suffered the torment.”

“But in all fairness,” said Sadie, who did not want to hear more about Lanny’s cruelty, “we should include a fourth pair.”

“Who?”

“Well, the two of you, of course,” she said with a teasing smile. “I’m told that, at Oriskany, you showed them that you could kill with ease and abandon. And some would say that that means that you could kill again, and under a less just and honorable circumstance. Think of all the women who fear any man who’ve fought and killed in battle. And they could even say that you’d brought Tim along with you to furnish yourself with an alibi.”

Denny burst out laughing and turned to Tim. “How does a pretty little girl come up with big ugly thoughts?”

“She’s read too many books,” joked Tim.

“Well,” Denny whispered to Tim, as if trying to keep it from Sadie, “if you and I are to be seen as suspects in an attempted murder, then maybe we’ll have to agree to vouch for each other.”

“Indeed, we’ll have to.”

“But wait,” said Denny as he held up his finger. “There’s another pair that should be viewed with suspicion. There’s you and Alice,” he said pointing at Sadie. “Where were the two of you when it happened?”

“We were trying to keep up with you.”

“Were you? Or were you creeping close up behind Lanny with a club in your hand and the devil in your eye? You’d both cloaks of dark color to hide yourselves with. And Tim’s ‘man in a brown hat’ could have been Lanny himself, with you two not far behind, crouched low and stepping lightly. You could have come up behind him and whacked him with all your strength. And why shouldn’t we suspect you two? Girls are prone to acting without a rational motive. Everybody knows that.”

“Braining a man in the woods,” said Sadie, “is hardly something a girl is likely to do. It’s boys who go about beating each other on the head. But… I suppose that the poisoned medicine could have been one of us. It’s always been a womanly way of coming to terms with a troublesome man.”

“Ooo, you are so right there.”

“Yea, a married man takes a risk,” nodded Tim, “every time he sits down to a meal.”

“ ‘Tis a sad truth,” agreed Denny with a solemn expression and a shake of his head. “But,” he then said, sounding serious, “if Ozzy is right about a deliberate attempt on Lanny – two deliberate attempts – then the attacker – the attackers – would have to be one of these pairs of suspects. Wouldn’t they? It’s too unlikely that a stranger could arrive and depart from the scene of the crime without being seen. And how could anyone have known we’d be there? We’d only decided to go out on a hunt just before we went out. We’d only given the beaters an hour to get ahead of us. How could anybody else have guessed we’d be there? And it isn’t just resentful slaves that have motive enough to kill. The Sweet children are in line to inherit our mother’s lands – over 1600 acres of it. And it’s worth plenty. It’ll be good tilling land, most of it, once it’s cleared. Father gave it all to her to ensure there would be no going to court to fight over the terms. At least not until after she dies, and she’s healthy as a horse. And he’d good reason to suspect that we’d be feuding over it. We’ve given them little reason to think otherwise. And with one of us dead, it’d go from a quarter to a third for each. And why not Lanny? He’s a man who can inspire contempt in many a man, and woman.”

“Well… ” started Tim.

“Let me tell you,” said Denny with a smile. “If I didn’t love my brother so much I’d probably have done away with him long ago, just to quiet his opinions. It would have been a service to the community.”

“Well…” started Tim.

“And with that said, I’ll leave you to your practicing,” said Denny with a smile as he turned to go.

“Do you suppose he’s right?” asked Sadie, after he was out the door.

“Well,” said Tim with a shrug, “I think that’s just his sense of humor. He’s always joking and it’s always black humor too. You should see him in front of a bunch of soldiers when there’s no women about. I worry he’ll give them more nightmares than they suffer already.”

“I’ve been wondering about some of the looks I’ve seen coming at Denny when he’s making his witty observations. They don’t always look amused.”

“Oh? Well…” started Tim as he thought about it. “Before we came here, Denny told me about how the four of them would always have to put on a show of familial love for the benefit of their mother. And Alice said that Ozzy and Bessie have always been close… but… other than between the two of them, it might be that the Sweet children despise each other. It could be, couldn’t it? Maybe one or two of them have more than ordinary greed to make them want to… try to eliminate a fellow heir.”

“Men have killed for less.”

“And women too, and for a lot less money,” said Tim. Like almost everyone, Tim and Sadie would go to listen when the circuit judges came to the county seat to try those accused of high crimes. The tavern was always packed and people would talk about the decisions for weeks afterwards.

“But wouldn’t the quarter for a dead one just go to his own estate and to his own heirs?”

“Unless their father’s will says otherwise, I suppose.”

“Why would he make a stupid will like that?” said Sadie, sounding as if she blamed Tim.

“To cut out Denny’s wife, I suppose.”

“Denny’s got a wife?”

“I think it’s about two years ago. He’d got a girl pregnant, so he did the proper thing and married her. She came back here but she didn’t get along with Dorothy, and after a fight she went back home. Now she’s off in Canada with her parents.”

“She’s a tory?”

“Denny said it wasn’t clear at the time who her father sided with. But he finally went in with the tories and took the whole family off to Canada, the same time the others went. Denny seemed to be saying that she was a difficult sort to begin with, and that all the turmoil didn’t help, and her being with child didn’t help her either. She got in a shouting match with Dorothy and went home to her mother.”

“And he just let her go?”

“He didn’t tell me more. Maybe he was waiting for her to crawl back and beg forgiveness. And maybe he was glad to be rid of her.”

“Well,” sighed Sadie, “the poor boy.”

“And the poor girl, too.”

“And the babe was born?”

“He didn’t say that anybody has died. I didn’t want to ask. But it sounds like Dorothy got a life estate and that the land would then go to any surviving children. And that’s including Bessie, and even though she married”

“Is that legal?”

“Well, who knows. The law, as they say, is always flexible enough to allow lawyers to prosper. And too, there’s talk of a new law that will cut out the tories who’ve gone to Canada.”

“So then,” said Sadie, quietly, as she looked towards the door to ensure no one was coming in, “if somebody did sneak up on Lanny, then he probably did it on an impulse, and he – he or she – might have harbored a long-term motive.”

“You know,” said Tim in a grave voice, “Denny said that he and I should vouch for each other but… I honestly can’t vouch for him. I’d fallen behind. The man in the brown hat that I saw could easily have been him, just as he was creeping up on Lanny. Denny could have taken a look behind to make sure I wasn’t close, and then he could have picked up the stick and given him a great whack, and then hurried on ahead. I was going through thick brush and making a lot of noise. He’d have to know how far back I was. And I wouldn’t necessarily have heard the sound of a stick upon a head because I’d fallen twice.”

“But Denny was carrying a rifle. Why wouldn’t he just use the butt of it?”

“Because he was in dense growth and a rifle’s five___ feet long. If he saw a good piece of deadfall then he’d surely prefer to use it. And, once he had, he would have still had time to go pick up the rifle and continue along. He could have got both Lanny and the deer in the space of five minutes.”

“You know,” said Sadie, “even if you do vouch for him, he could still double-cross you. He could say that he thought you were there behind him, but he couldn’t have been sure because his mind was on the hunt. Anybody would believe that.”

“Of course,” said Tim as his face darkened. “And who better than me to hang for an unsolved crime? Who better than a stranger from far away to serve as a convenient scapegoat? Who’s going to stick up for me around here, besides you? He’d just have to claim that, on another occasion, he’d heard me mention Lanny’s being a hunter of runaway servants and slaves. Denny could say that I’d likely heard the rumors. Some might regard the killing of a professional hunter of slaves to be morally justifiable act of war for the cause of liberty.”

Two years before, on November 14 of 1775, John Murray, the 4th Earl of Dunmore and Royal Governor of Virginia, offered freedom for the slaves of Americans who were supporting the rebellion, if they escaped and joined the royal forces. This outraged some Americans but pleased others. The revolutionary spirit of the times had seen a widespread condemnation of slavery as a moral evil, with calls for liberty for all men. In 1775 the first abolition society within what is now the United States was formed in Philadelphia. In July of 1777, the Vermont Republic partially abolished slavery, freeing men over twenty-one and women older than eighteen. The vote was given to all adult males, including blacks, regardless of property ownership, so long as they had publicly abjured their allegiance to King George. In 1783, the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court, in a controversial decision based on the state’s 1780 constitution, freed all slaves. A gradual elimination of slavery had already begun in Pennsylvania in 1780, with the last slave freed by 1847. New Hampshire followed this example in 1783, Rhode Island and Connecticut in 1784, New York in 1799, and New Jersey in 1804. In 1787, as part of constitutional negotiations, the importation of slaves from Africa was banned as of 1808. The final freeing of America’s slaves and indentured servants came with the ratification of the 13th Amendment in 1865.

In 1772, England’s Court of King’s Bench had decided that slavery was not legal in England and Wales. Parliament banned importation of slaves from Africa to its colonies in 1807, and outlawed slavery in its colonies in 1834. Compensation was paid to owners, and all slaves were free by 1840. In 1794, French revolutionaries outlawed slavery in its colonies, but Napoleon restored it in 1802. Slavery was outlawed again, with the last French slave freed by 1899. Limited forms of slavery still exist today in parts of Asia. Children are, in a limited way, the slaves of their parents. Before the revolutionary period, a moral condemnation of the enslavement of black Africans would have been an odd and eccentric opinion, and would usually have been met with smiles and gentle teasing.

Chapter 8

Damnation and a hangman’s noose.

Tim and Sadie were walking back to the house when they saw a man riding up on horseback. They recognized the thin, middle-aged man who had let them stay the night during the last leg of their long journey.

“Harley Murphy!” called Tim.

“Tim and Sadie Euston,” he called back. “And I can see by your fiddle cases that you’re already hard at work.”

“We are,” said Tim when they were closer. “Paying for our keep. Like Denny expected, his mother wants us to stay the whole winter.”

“With her own hired musicians, she’ll feel like a great lady in her manor house. And what’s happened to your eye? A falling out with Denny?”

“Oh,” said Tim as he felt the lump. “I walked into a branch when we were out hunting.” His injury had developed into a spectacular black eye. Alice had told him that he looked like he was half man half raccoon.

“You’re not in pain I hope?”

“No no. It looks worse than it is.” Dorothy had brought out a small mirror so Tim had seen the black bands above and below his swollen eye. “We’re practicing Lovely Nan. If you know another favorite of Dorothy’s then tell us and we can surprise her.”

“Oh… I suppose... Let me think on that one. Or better yet, I’ll ask my daughter. Is Dorothy in?”

“Her and the whole family.”

“Harley,” said Dorothy warmly as they came in without knocking. “You’ve come through the snow just to pay us a call?”

“What better reason?”

“And how goes the war?” asked Ozzy.

“How goes the war?” sighed Harley as he pulled off his coat. “As far as I know it goes quietly, though who knows? It raged all last winter down in New Jersey, didn’t it? And things might still be hot in Pennsylvania. And if they’re not, then I’m sure that the forges are hot, and that they’re beating ploughshares into swords.”

“You’re thinking that the war’s not yet over?” asked Ozzy.

“Well… it might be and it might not. Who’d have thought it’d last this long? But the news of so severe a defeat at Saratoga will soon be known in London. It’s been four weeks now. It’d be a week to walk, sail and ride back to Canada. Maybe less. Another four or five weeks to sail down the river and across the sea, but maybe less. Any day now the doleful news will be spreading across England.”

“And they’ll have just finished ringing the bells of celebration for their capture of Philadelphia,” said Denny. Three weeks before Burgoyne’s surrender at Saratoga, British troops had marched into the national capital. Victories were always heralded by the ringing of church bells, and Londoners claimed they had more bells than any city in Europe.

“Then they’ll be tolling the funeral bells,” said Harley. “But we likely won’t know what King George has decided on until… next February likely. And that’s only if they hazard a winter crossing. More likely not until next April. Until then…”

“ ’Till then,” said Ozzy, “the Committee of Inspection will keep you hard at work.”

“But it’s easy work though,” said Harley with a smile. “Just listening to gossip and snooping around.” The committee he was on had ruled over Tryon County since loyalist leaders had taken refuge in Canada, two years before. All threats and disputes were now its business. Its advice determined tactics employed by militia officers and it held a strong influence over judgments and orders made by the Justice of the Peace.

“Good morning, Harley,” said Lanny, who was just getting up from a nap. He had been roused for breakfast but after a half hour he had wanted to lie down again.

“Good afternoon, Lanny. You’re not feeling well, I hear?”

“Oh, fell out of a tree, is all. A bit shook up. I’m better than yesterday, and I’ll likely be out splitting wood by tomorrow.”

“No, you won’t be,” scolded Dorothy.

“Have Tim and Sadie serenaded you, yet?” Harley asked Dorothy.

“Oh they’re like a pair of angels. Tim, could you play something for Harley.”

“They serenaded us night before last. Your son brought them to us first.”

“How about something quiet and soothing for Lanny’s head,” said Sadie as she put down her case to take out her fiddle. “Tim, let’s play All Things Bright and Beautiful.”

“You like the modern ones, do you?” said Harley.

“We like a lot of the old ones too,” said Tim, “but this one is sure to cure a headache. They loosened their bow hairs and played close to the fingerboard to soften the sound and sang almost in a whisper.

“And to think,” said Harley to Dorothy when they were finished, “you’ll be listening to the likes of this all the winter through.”

“Heavenly, isn’t it?”

“Maybe they could be persuaded to play for the committee,” joked Denny. “That one would soothe your hearts and cool your passions.”

“Maybe too much,” laughed Harley.

“We ought to be back to our practice,” said Tim, who was wondering whether this visit was a thinly disguised investigation of a suspicious incident. He pulled on his coat, held Sadie’s cloak for her and they went out to the barn.

“I’ve thought of one,” said Harley, later when he came into the barn. “I remember Dorothy asking a fiddler if he knew it, but the fellow said he didn’t. It’s called The Bold Soldier, I think, and it goes like this.” He whistled the melody and sung the refrain.

“I’ve heard it,” said Tim, “but we’ve never learned it. But I could maybe figure it out. Could you get the words from somebody?”

“I can try. Likely my daughter knows them. She good at remembering songs.”

“That’ll do it then.”

“Poor Lanny’s not looking too lively, is he?” asked Harley.

“He suffered quite a fall,” said Sadie.

“How’d it happen?”

“It was on the hunt,” said Tim. “I found him sitting by a pathway with a lump like a goose egg.” Tim had decided to ignore any obligation he might feel to respect the privacy of the Sweet family. Both he and Sadie realized that the Committee of Inspection would likely have ordered Harley Murphy to keep an eye on newcomers to the county. Now might be his and Sadie’s best chance to demonstrate their commitment to the cause and win the trust of local officials. Tim knew that to miss this opportunity could mean an end to his hopes of rapid advancement in the Army – his chance to do more than load wagons and dig trenches. They also realized that one of the Sweets might have followed Harley out and could now be listening at the door, but they still had to tell this man all they knew and suffer whatever consequences that might come.

“Your lump is on the front of your head and Lanny’s is on the back,” chuckled Harley. “Maybe you ran into him.”

“Mine’s from walking into a branch. The woods were dense and I was thinking about.... I must have been thinking about something. Lanny likely fell from a tree, or at least that’s what Ozzy said, at first. He thought that maybe Lanny’d just climbed it to get a shot at a deer.”

“Yes, he could have.”

“So he likely just fell and hit his head on a piece of deadfall. But later Ozzy said that, after he’d looked around, he couldn’t see any signs that he’d actually climbed a tree. No mud on lower branches or anything. And so he started wondering whether Lanny had been brained with the stick that he found there. It had blood on it.”

“On the stick?”

“And he said it’d be a handy size for a club,” said Sadie.

“And Denny was thinking,” said Tim as he glanced towards the door, “that it might have been Joe, acting on an impulse.”

“Joe?” asked Harley, with his brows raised.

“He said,” added Sadie, “that the two of them, Joe an Abe, could have done the deed and still have had time to rush on ahead and be right behind Denny when he shot the deer – there and ready to string it up.”

“And Denny is now wondering,” said Tim, “whether Joe might have wanted to take vengeance on Lanny, for his part in getting the girl he wanted to marry sent away.”

“He wanted to marry her?” asked Harley with a nod. He had heard Dorothy talk about a problem girl.

“And the two of them had been together, so Abe could have agreed to lie for him.”

“But,” said Sadie, coming closer. She told him of the possibility that Calee and Cassie might have been wanting to put an end to Lanny’s opinions, and to his hunting of runaways

“But still,” said Tim, “it might not have been any of them. Denny figures that it might have been Ozzy himself, acting with the help of Bessie, taking revenge for years of teasing and bullying. And, of course, for wanting to get a bigger cut of his mother’s lands.”

“And that’s if it wasn’t just an accident,” said Sadie, sounding like she wanted to defend them.

“But,” continued Tim, “we’ve been told that there’s little love lost between them, except for Ozzy and Bessie. And it’s a resentment that’s festered for years. And then Ozzy finally saw his chance for revenge, and afterwards he had to redirect suspicions towards others.”

“But it could have just been Bessie,” said Sadie.

“Indeed, it could have been either one of them,” said Harley.

“And we’ve been told,” said Tim, “that there’s many who have heard what Lanny’s siblings have had to say about him.”

“I can confirm that myself,” said Harley with a smile.

“So it seems possible,” said Sadie, “that if he didn’t fall, and he was brained with the stick, then it’s likely comes out of a squabble within the family, and is not of any great importance to the committee. Even if one of them had added something to the laudanum.”

“The laudanum?” asked Harley.

“Lanny was slow to wake up this morning, and Ozzy wonders whether somebody might have added in some extra opium to the mixture but hadn’t added enough. But Lanny had suffered so bad a fall. Back in the hospital there were men who were like that – sleeping all the night and then half the day. And there was no excess of opium, there.”

“But still, Ozzy was wondering about it?” asked Harley.

“Alice doesn’t believe it,” said Sadie. “She told Ozzy that he’s got too vivid an imagination.”

“Did she?”

“And really,” said Tim, “it’s likely nothing at all. Sure, Dorothy has turned against the revolution, for now, but Denny figures she just needs time to grieve and she’ll surely come around. And he’s sure the rest of the family’s true to the cause.”

“Well, we’ll hope so,” said Harley, after a pause. He had noticed Tim’s hand shaking. “I do appreciate you’re being willing to fill me in on this, for it’s my business to know.”

“Of course.”

“And truly,” said Sadie with a smile, and she outlined for Harley the motives that would have inspired Denny to act with Tim’s assistance.”

“Ah-ha, and now it all links up!” joked Harley, with his eyebrows raised as he looked at Tim.

“Or it may be Sadie here,” joked Tim, “acting with Alice, for some crazed reason that only another woman could comprehend.”

“But more likely it’s Denny and Tim,” whispered Sadie. “So the next time you come for a visit it’ll likely be to arrest Tim Euston, the conniving fiend who led poor Denny along a path to damnation and a hangman’s noose.”

Harley burst out laughing. “Why, you talk like a boy with all your bluff and bravado.” He then thanked them, gave Tim a pat on the shoulder, asked them to keep their eyes and ears open, and continued on his way home.

Harley’s comment about ploughshares refers to a passage in the Bible, in Isaiah. “…and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks: nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.” This sort of Biblical reference would have been very common in a time when Bible readings served not only for spiritual upliftment but also as part of an evening’s entertainment.

Chapter 9

The lonely sentinel.

“You do read too many books,” said Tim as they stood at the door, watching Harley ride away.

“We don’t want to sound like we were holding anything back,” said Sadie. She went back to her violin and waited for Tim.

“Well… for sure he won’t be thinking that, now.”

“No, he might still. Actually he might think we were too eager to show our willingness to assist, and he’ll wonder what we’re so worried about, and that’ll just make him more suspicious of us. Especially of you.”

“I don’t think…”

“And,” said Sadie, “what if Dorothy finds out we’ve been gossiping about family business? You don’t know what he’s going to say to her – not to her or anybody else. And we don’t know whether somebody was listening just now, do we? We might have just cost ourselves Dorothy’s hospitality.”

“But… well… still, we needed to do it.”

“I suppose we did,” sighed Sadie as she started to play without him.

“It’s a Committee of Inspection! We can’t hold back anything that might concern it.”

“Well then,” said Sadie after she stopped, “maybe we ought to have told him about your flirtation with the bride-to-be.”

“I… Well… I don’t…” stammered Tim.

“You’re a stranger here. Not even Denny truly knows your past. For all Harley Murphy knows you could be crazy as a bat. Jealousy in a deranged mind can justify any crime. You heard the judge say so at the sessions last May. Harley has good reason to wonder whether you’re naught but a wolf in sheep’s clothing who’s fallen in love at first sight, and has decided to eliminate his rival, just as soon as the opportunity presents itself.”

“Honestly!” groaned Tim as he rolled his eyes. “I’m hearing the ravings of a mind possessed! Yea, ‘tis a sad fact that no man can fall in love as fast as a girl can jump to a conclusion.”

“Perhaps not,” said Sadie with a smug look. “But either way, you’re having brought us into a family of suspected tories might have already crushed your hopes for advancement in the Army. Maybe it’s time you started looking at a trade more suited to your prospects.”

This conversation was interrupted by the sound of the door. It was Lanny. “How’s the practicing coming along?” he asked, sounding like he was feeling better.

“Well enough,” replied Tim with a false smile. “We’ve learned a lot of tunes over the years so we just need to refresh our memories. Can you think of any your mother might like?”

“Well… God Save the King, of course,” he said with a chuckle.

“Of course.”

“Denny tells me you dream of a marching into battle carrying the flag.”

“Me and him both,” said Tim. “But there’s too many like us though, isn’t there? I’m thinking now that I’d be just as happy with a musket and my place in the rank and file.”

“Ah yes, to do honor to the uniform by humble obedience. To follow the flag into the jaws of death. And on the topic of death, my dearest Alice thinks I might owe you my life. That man you saw in the brown hat might have been the one that tried to put a crack in my skull. And if he was, then he might have finished the job if you hadn’t been there to frighten him off.”

“Well,” said Tim, “maybe Alice is too generous with her assumptions. Surely you just fell from the tree.”

“Yes, let’s hope I’m just a clumsy oaf. Now, Ozzy tells me he hasn’t spoken of these suppositions to my mother. I think we should all keep quiet about them. You know that our father died only a month ago?”

“Yes, ‘tis a tragedy.”

“And she is, of course, still in a tender condition, for that’s on top of all the death and destruction of the past few months. And having all the neighbors in mourning, too. It doesn’t help her any. We fear for what an additional burden might do to her health.”

“Of course. We’ll say nothing. And perhaps our music will help sooth her pains.”

“And mine too,” said Lanny as he turned to leave. “Help remedy this ache in my head. I’m aiming to enjoy my wedding feast. Father would have wanted it so.”

“Able Bass! Good day to thee,” Lanny called when on his way back to the house. It was to a man on horseback. Tim was at the door and could see him coming up the road. He was a young man with a thick neck. The two were exchanging pleasantries when Denny came out. He wished him a good day and continued on to the barn.

“Tim,” said Denny in a quiet voice, “I’m in need of your aid. This is my week on the watch and me and the others have to get together to make our reports to the Captain. I have to find a volunteer to stand outside and keep watch so we’re not ambushed.”

“Oh, by all means.”

“And it’ll be to your benefit to demonstrate your willingness to do your duty.”

“Of course, I’m more than willing.”

“It’s ironic though,” said Denny as he went to where saddles were kept on racks. “Here, the Sweet family is being watched by others and I’m out and about, watching someone else. And maybe those that I watch have been told to watch the Sweets.”

“We can’t be too careful, not now-a-days, can we?” said Tim with a smile. They saddled the horses and left by the far side of the barn. Why the far side? Tim wondered. Does he want to avoid being seen from the house by his mother. Or maybe it’s to keep hidden from Able Bass?

The trail they took through the woods was the same they had used the day of the hunt, and again they were under heavy cloud cover. Small flakes of snow were carried on a cold wind and the darkness warned of a storm. And maybe more, thought Tim. Maybe we’re headed for a tory safe house. Maybe we’re after the ‘little woman’ that he talked about. He felt a shiver run up his back as they went deeper into the woods. Again they were on a hunt, only now in service to the cause of liberty. I’m now more a soldier than a watchman. Two soldiers on maneuvers.

They dismounted, tied their horses to a branch, and walked up to where the last of a stand of chestnuts bordered on a clearing littered with stumps. Smoke rose from where holes had been dug under stumps. After snow fell fires could be safely built, embers could be shoveled into the hole to gradually burn the stump. Beyond the field were three small buildings. The nearest had a window with oiled paper in place of glass. Suddenly a rabbit jumped up from where it was hiding, startling them both.

“I’ll tell them,” joked Denny. “that the only suspicious type I’ve seen is now outside standing guard. You stay back out of sight and watch to see whether anybody comes up the lane from the road beyond the house. If you see somebody then you scamper over that way and so you can come up to the back of the house without being seen from the road. Give the window frame three loud raps and get back here. You think you can do that?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll call you in to meet the rest of us, as soon as somebody else can come out to relieve you.”

“All right.”

That’s the way our excellent captain likes it. Stealth and secrecy at all times,” he said with a tone that suggested the captain was overly cautious.

“Well, you never know,”

“I’m on my way then,” said Denny and he started across the clearing.

Then the wait began. Sounds of distant crows were muffled by the low lying clouds. The snow began to fall again. Tim’s toes started getting cold. He ran on the spot to warm up. This’ll be what guard duty will be like, he told himself, once I’m in the Army. The lonely sentinel at his post – the only protection against ambush and tragedy. But too, the easiest target for an enemy sniper.

Tim’s daydreaming was interrupted by a movement on the road. It looked like Able Bass, though it was hard to tell from such a distance. This time he was walking his horse slowly. It might have gone a bit lame, Tim wondered as he crept through the woods to get the house between them. Then he made a quick dash to the garden gate. It was held closed by a weathered piece of rope. He got it open and went up the path to the window. He rapped on the unpainted wooden frame and quickly retreated to the gate. He was sweating and the hair under his hat was itching as it tried to stand on end. In his mind he pictured a tory sniper aiming a rifle. He ducked behind the gate to look back. Denny was coming out the back door. Behind him a young woman pulled the door closed. Good-looking, thought Tim.

“Let’s go,” said Denny as he came past, sounding excited. “The captain says that you’ll get to meet them next time.”

“Who was that coming up the road?”

“Oh… just a neighbor. We’d already made our reports. Our captain thinks we should be keeping our meetings short and secret. As if anybody doesn’t know that there’s a watch and who’s on it. Everybody’s half crazed, these days. Since Oriskany.”

“Well… you can’t be too careful.”

“Actually, you can,” said Denny with a smile. “Too much stealth will often lead to a lack of coordination. But I suppose we all need to practice ‘stelthiness’ so we’re ready when we need it. Had there been a proper advance guard at Oriskany, and flanking guards running alongside them, then we’d have sustained fewer losses and imposed a lot more upon them.”

“I suppose.”

“But we’ll all be better soldiers for it. It was an expensive lesson, though.”

“It was,” said Tim as he led the way to the horses. They walked them until further away. The horses seemed willing to cooperate by keeping quiet. But why, wondered Tim, did we hide the horses? And why didn’t I get to meet the watchmen? And why did Denny want to leave just as Able came up the road?

The committee system was at the heart of the American war effort. Two years before, in the fall of 1774, the Royal Governor of Massachusetts, worried about the heat of protest, discharged the members of the General Court (the colonial assembly). In October of that year a number of prominent men, who wanted to keep up the protest against new taxes, formed a Provincial Congress. This group created a smaller Committee of Safety and authorized it to keep the militia armed and equipped and to appoint its general officers. As well, it could call out the militia when necessary. This gave the Committee of Safety the power to turn passive resistance into civil war.

As the revolutionary spirit rose, similar committees, often called Committees of Inspection, or Observation, or Correspondence, appeared across the land and took control of towns, counties and colonies. Great effort was directed at the maintaining of an appearance of legitimacy and prudent conduct. The committeemen would watch for activities directed against the establishment of an independent nation. Out of a population of about two-and-a-half million, the thirteen colonies had four hundred thousand free adult males. About one in sixty of these was a member of a committee charged with keeping a watch over political acts and opinions.

These revolutionary committees grew out of earlier groups, usually called committees of correspondence. They kept each other informed of events with “circulating letters” which were carried from one group to the next. By this means, news of the outbreak of hostilities at Lexington and Concord, near Boston on April 19, 1775, made it to New York City in five days, to Philadelphia a day later, to Virginia by the end of the month and to Savannah, Georgia by May 10.

Tryon County, on the western frontier of the New York colony, formed its Committee of Safety in August of 1774. It governed the county until a state constitution created a permanent state government in 1778.

The Tryon County Committee of Safety required all persons wanting to enter or leave the county to carry a pass in the form of a handwritten letter from some trusted official. The committee ordered the arrest of suspicious individuals. Some were fined and others were imprisoned. In January of 1776 the Committee sent a letter to General Schuyler, of the Northern Department of the Continental Army, warning him that six or seven hundred loyalists bearing arms had gathered at Johnstown in Tryon County. In May of that year it instructed the county’s representatives at the Provincial Congress to vote for independence.

Three members of the Tryon County Committee of Safety were killed at Oriskany. Afterwards, radicals emerged as leaders. They imprisoned patriots who would not sell them wheat at less than market price, and they are believed to have urged Iroquois of the Oneida tribe to attack and burn the homes of suspected tories. By March of 1778, when General Schuyler advised the committee to adopt less aggressive tactics, most of the loyalists had already taken refuge in Canada.

Since the settlement of Jamestown and Plymouth, a century-and-a-half before, colonial leaders had been forming committees and calling for votes. In England, after the civil war of the 1640s, committees took the place of royal officers in the government of Oliver Cromwell. Earlier, committees had provided leadership for puritan congregations that preferred a committee of elders to a bishop appointed by a King or by the Pope.

Chapter 10

How some will judge.

“Ah, you’ve got your apparatus out,” said Lanny to Ozzy from where he lay on his mother’s bed. “Good, I’m in need of a treatment.”

“We all are,” said Ozzy, “but you, most of all.”

“Just a mild one,” cautioned Dorothy. She had been up for hours and was just sitting down with a cup of warm beer.

“Mother, Mother,” laughed Lanny, “you love me too much.”

“Well, somebody has to,” joked Ozzy. Alice laughed louder at this than anyone. They talked about electricity while each got a treatment.

“Just a very mild one,” said Sadie, who had waited until last.

“Of course,” said Ozzy, “a delicate stimulation for a delicate girl. There’s many who say it can enhance a woman’s beauty, though yours hardly needs enhancing.”

“If you go on telling women things like that,” said Dorothy, “then you’ll have a steady income.”

“I doubt that. Anybody can buy one of these, and many a barber and surgeon has. It’s unlikely that any one man will ever get rich on it, unless of course he combines electric and verbal stimulation, with a marriage to his wealthiest client. No, I think that farming will be how I’ll prosper. I haven’t the head for figures that’d allow me to get rich in trade. I hear that your father was a successful merchant,” he said, turning back to Sadie.

“Until drunkenness drove him into bankruptcy,” Sadie said without looking up.

“Well… ah… but now that he’s a commissary with the Army he’ll likely be back on the road to riches.” Ozzy went on talking to her like this with words of flattery whenever he could fit them in. Sometimes he would whisper and Sadie would giggle. When Tim could not stand listening any longer he suggested to Sadie that she come with him to the barn to practice.

“Are you going to tell me where you and Denny went off to yesterday?” Sadie asked Tim. They were in the barn and she had just taken out her violin. The animals had been driven out to benefit from the fresh morning air. Inside it was quiet and their voices echoed.

“Well… I don’t know that I’m at liberty to say,” replied Tim slowly as he lifted his violin to his chin. “It had to do with the maintenance of safety.” He tried out the melody for the song Dorothy had requested. He turned a peg to adjust the tuning and played it again.

“You just went there to pay someone a visit? Well, I suppose that’s what Harley is doing here, isn’t he? All this spying on each other has likely made the whole county more sociable. There’s likely to be new friendships built out of it – marriages that would never have been.”

“I suppose there might be,” said Tim, who was trying to concentrate.

“Harley and Dorothy seem fond of each other.”

“I suppose.”

“Did you meet the neighbors?”

“Yesterday? No, I waited outside to keep watch.”

“You just kept watch?”

“Yes.”

“East of here? A couple of miles?”

“Yes. Ah… I mean…”

“Two miles east? And just to watch the house?”

“Yes.”

“And Denny went in by himself?”

“Sadie, I don’t know what all I have permission tell you, so maybe it would be best if...”

“Oh, stop it! Do you think I’m going alert the enemy?”

“I’ve got to earn their trust. This is a valuable opportunity – and not just to help do the work of the Committee. It’s an honor to be working alongside an actual war hero.”

“Denny?”

“Yes.”

“Well, he is a war hero. I’ll grant you that.”

“If half of our men killed as many as he did then we’d have King George at the table begging for terms.”

“Did he shoot anybody yesterday?”

“No! He just went in to give his report to the captain of the watch.”

“But you didn’t go in with him?”

“No, I just kept watch.”

“Kept watch for who.”

“Well! For whoever. I rapped on the window when I saw somebody coming up the road. I think it was Able Bass. He’s the big man who came past here, just before we left.”

“Yes know. You visited his home while he wasn’t there?”

“I don’t know if it was his!”

“He lives two miles east of here,” said Sadie, pointing.

“Good for Able.”

“Calee says he’s got a pretty wife. She was teasing me for asking about him. She says he has the biggest hands she’s ever seen on a man.”

“You spend your time talking about men’s hands?”

“So was anybody there, other than his pretty young wife?”

“Denny was there to meet with the watchmen!”

“Cassie said to Calee that ‘he’s gone there again’. Might she have been talking about Denny?”

“How would I know what or who Cassie talks about?” muttered Tim. He was frustrated with violin strings that seemed to be getting even more out of tune.

“And I suppose,” whispered Sadie, “that Denny left by the window with his shirt still untucked?”

“No” He came out the back door!” Tim snapped. “And it’s hardly proper for a girl your age to be talking like that. Someone could be listening.”

“Yes, I suppose a girl can’t be too careful.”

“No she can’t. And I could point out, as an example, your behavior, just now, in the house. Talking to Ozzy the way you were. I hope you know what that sort of flirtation can lead to.”

“And what is that, Brother? The loss of my most precious asset?”

“No! I just mean...”

“It was still on the mantle, last I saw it,” said Sadie as she rosined her bow. She held it where sunlight through one of the small windows along the side of the barn.

“It’s nothing to joke about.”

“And it’s nothing you need to lecture me about, Brother.”

“You know that our mother made me promise to look after you. I have to…”

“I can’t stop Ozzy Sweet from talking, can I? And we won’t keep his mother happy unless we make ourselves pleasant to the whole family. Will we?”

“Well, just remember that you’re only fifteen.”

“My goodness Brother, you’re right. And here I was thinking I’m forty-six already.”

“Sadie, I don’t…”

“And people say I talk like I’m twenty-five. You’ve said it yourself.”

“But that doesn’t…”

“And, Brother, how do you suppose you’re going to look after me when spring comes and you’re off with the Army getting shot at?”

“Well… I’ll just have to bind you to a good and godly household.”

“And how will you manage to tell a good household from a bad one?” she whispered. “It’s you who got us into the house of a known tory, isn’t it? And haven’t you got yourself suspected of the attempted murder of her son? I’m starting to wonder whether I’d have been better off finding a household on my own.”

“I… well…”

“But I shouldn’t be harsh with you, dear Brother, for I know that your mind has been all stirred up by all the hopes and fears that come out of your infatuation with Alice Surrey.”

“I’m not…”

“You’re just tormented by the thought of her lying in the arms of another man.”

“I am not!”

“And it’s eating away at you, isn’t it? And now you’re needing to vent your frustrations on me, and on poor Ozzy, when he just means well and is worried for our welfare. You should be thanking him for his consideration and not looking for reasons to be suspicious of him.”

“I… well… Sadie, you know that your reputation will be ruined if you find yourself unable to resist the charms of… handsome Ozzy Sweet.”

“You find him handsome, do you?”

“I don’t… You know… I don’t think…”

“Just remember this, Brother. It’s your reputation that faces a threat more dire than mine. And it’s a threat that comes from the house you’ve brought us into. It’s that that we should be fearing, and all other considerations pale in comparison.”

“I’d hardly think so! Our cooperation with Harley Murphy will strengthen my reputation – my solid reputation!”

“You know,” said Sadie, sounding as if she had just realized something, “Ozzy likely knows quite a lot about who around here is true to the cause of liberty and who is not. And his efforts to charm me might allow me to draw out information that Harley would value highly.”

“I don’t think you should take any chances…”

“The only risk that faces me,” Sadie whispered, “is the risk that you’ve got us both facing now because of your friendship with the highly suspicious Denny Sweet.”

“He’s not highly suspicious!”

“Didn’t he say himself that he’s a suspect in the attempted murder of his own brother? They all are, and you’ve brought us into this… nest of intrigue. And we can’t easily get ourselves out of it, for if we run off now we’ll only be more highly suspected. And then your dreams of being an officer in the Army will be at an end.”

“I do not not… Sister, it is hopeless trying to talk to you.” Tim turned away and tried to play the melody, only to find his violin even further out of tune. Sadie remained quiet and tuned her own. After Tim made another effort they tried the melody together and then started worked on developing chords and adding in the lyrics. They continued until Tim sighed and announced that he was tired. He put his instrument back in its case and Sadie did the same. They started back to the house until Sadie saw Calee, the older of the female slaves, coming out of the house. She suspected that she was going to do dairy chores and went back to help.

“That’s some very good cheese you make,” said Sadie to Calee as she watched her lift off the light cloth that covered it. A cat came in and watched from a distance, knowing she could expect no treats in the dairy. Sadie bent down to stroke it. “I’d like to learn how,” she said, “if you think you could teach me.”

“Oh sure I can, girl. Anybody can make cheese,” said Calee with a smile. Her skin was pale enough to show freckles and her hair was reddish-brown.

“I’ve heard women say that they’ve tried and not succeeded.”

“Well honey, if you can’t watch and listen then I can’t help you.”

“I’ll try my best,” said Sadie as they went to work. “I used to milk the cows where we lived before. And I can make butter. I was supposed to learn how to make cheese but I can’t do it like you. Oh,” she then sighed, “I’ve a cursed pain in my legs.” Sadie actually was not in pain, but she had heard Calee complaining to Cassie about tiredness and sore legs. Sadie thought this might get her talking about the remedy she had said she was taking for it. They called it “Marg Lewis’s concoction.”

“Are you feeling tired too?” asked Calee, without looking up.

“I am, though I ought to be that. It was a long walk to get us here and the wind was cold.”

“Well, Mistress Dorothy’s got some good medicine from a old woman who doesn’t live too far from here. I’ll give you a half a spoonful when we get back up to the house. Half is usually enough. to do you more good than harm. Marg tells us that as little as three could be deadly for some, for it’s a potent medicine. Though that always depends so much on the person, so that’d mean thirteen for some, wouldn’t it?”

“Or twenty-three. Likely it’s a story about somebody old and sick who died, and who would have died anyway.”

“Likely so. The mistress told me that she knows a man who’ll take six for his headaches, though she figures he must be doing himself more harm than good. Some always want to take too much,” she sighed. “It’s like Master Lanny and the electrical treatments he keeps wanting from his brother. I figure that all he really needs is rest, and not stimulation.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Sure, you know I’m right, but who’ll listen to a poor slave girl?”

“I will, for one,” said Sadie. “You know, there’s men of rank and learning back in Massachusetts who say that, now we’re to be a nation of free men, we’ll have to free all the slaves too. And there’s many a man who agrees.”

“Well…” said Calee with a nervous glance to the door, “I don’t know that most of us would be better off free. It’s just like with a child. A child’s not better off being left to run wild.”

Sadie knew that Calee would be afraid that her opinions could be repeated and that she was likely now expressing an opinion she did not hold. “Well, of course that’s true,” sighed Sadie. “Think of what some white men have managed to do with their freedom. Ruined their lives! Grown men who ought to know better! And there’s many who will do just fine as a bound apprentice and then go to ruin after their term it up.”

“I’ve seen it happen,” agreed Calee. “Though I’ll not tell you which man I’m thinking about.”

“What would you do were you to be granted your freedom?”

“Oh, find a husband and lose it again, I suppose.”

“Yes… I suppose it’s only a rich man who’s truly free.”

“Rich and educated and… wise. Not a slave to his sins. But they say that, once a man has risen to rank and station, he’ll find his friends and neighbors all a-begging for him to ‘exercise leadership.’ They’ll force him onto this committee, and into that office and make constant demands on him. And can you truly call that freedom?”

“Well, I suppose there’s all kinds of freedom and all kinds of enslavement,” said Sadie after a pause to think about it.

“I’ve learned a lot by listening to the Sweet family. They like to debate the great issues of the day and I get to listen in.”

“Well, for a slave you’ve certainly learned a lot of words.”

“Yea, too many,” said Calee, with a smile of embarrassment. “For sure, ‘tis more than a poor slave girl ought to know. But then I just can’t seem to help it, can I? Once all them grand words get into my head they get stuck there.”

“I’ve had the opportunity to listen to some well spoken men and women myself, from back where we used to live – my master and mistress, and those who came to visit.

“And has it been a benefit or a curse?” joked Calee.

“Oh it must be a curse. But they’re an impressive lot, aren’t they, the Sweets. They’ll surely all prosper, if they don’t get killed.”

“Well, two of them survived Oriskany, so they must at least have luck on their side. And they ought to prosper. They’re all strong and hearty and they’re forever reading books. They and a few others got a library together and they’ll share newspapers and books of all sorts. Especially newspapers.”

“Are you and the other slaves well treated?”

“Truth be told,” said Calee, her voice rising in case Lanny was listening at the door. “Truth be told we’re so well treated that I’d wonder whether any of us could do any better with our freedom. You’ll not see Master Lanny and his dogs out a-chasing any of us down, for we know we owe a debt to them who’ve given us a good home to live in and good food to eat.”

“But,” Sadie said in a whisper, “Denny tells me that he and his brothers don’t always get the high regard they deserve.” Denny actually had not said this but she hoped that saying so would draw out more information. “And Denny said it’ll be worse now, with poor Dorothy going sour on the cause of liberty. He says the neighbors are now all wondering whether any Sweet can be trusted.”

“Well… they all signed the association, just as soon most others did. And they’ve all sworn their oath to the State, in town and loud and clear and in front of onlookers. And the boys have all marched with the militia, just like they should.”

“It is so unfair,” said Sadie as she pushed a strand of her blonde hair back under her cap, “for them to be judged harshly because of their poor mother. And especially after Denny’s distinguished himself the way he did at Oriskany. He should be held in high regard. I’m told he says he’s willing to serve as ensign in the Army but hasn’t yet received an offer. And what brings a man into danger more than the carrying of the flag into battle?”

“Well, they say wanting to be a sniper will,” said Calee with a shrug, “for the snipers are always sniping at each other.”

“So why has he only been allowed to serve as a private with the militia?”

“I do not know. Over the fall, when so much fighting was being done out east, he was kept well back from the front lines. While others got to get up close, and tighten the noose on Burgoyne, Denny had to follow along with a couple of old men who went from farm to farm, pressing them to give more to the committee, to pass along to the Army. ‘Reaffirm their support for the cause,’ they called it. And even if they’d paid all their taxes in full they were still wanting them to give more, to help feed and cloth the soldiers. There was ten thousand militia who came out, and all expecting to be fed. And the refugees too. And then, while the two old men were in the house, sipping a man’s beer while trying to squeeze more out of him, Denny would stay back outside, to tend to the horses, he’d say. And then he’d find any boys who were at work and he’d start a-telling them all his stories of valor in battle at Oriskany. He’d tell about how many he’d likely shot, and that’d get the boys all heated up about going off to war themselves, come the spring. Get them all fired up and wanting to go shoot a redcoat. He can tell a good story, that Denny.”

“I know,” said Sadie. “He was telling them all the way here. But Ozzy was there at Oriskany too, wasn’t he?”

“He was. He didn’t shoot anybody though.”

“Was Lanny there?”

“No, he was here at home with a sore stomach, poor boy.”

“A sore stomach?” asked Sadie in a doubtful tone.

“Sick in bed he was. Groaning in agony.”

“So I’d imagine there must have been some who suspected him of cowardice. It’s so unfair, how some will judge.”

“Yea, words were spoken,” said Calee with a sigh.

“Well, there’ll always be…”

“But it’s comical, the way things can turn out, though. Some of the land that’s now owned by the mistress was confiscated from tories – loyalists, as she’ll call them now. It’s over the line in Albany County but that’s only a few miles from here. It’s where Lanny’s living now, and where he’ll take his new bride come Sunday. Back during the early days of the war there was loyalist property that was seized and sold. The committeemen said they’d sold it to pay for military service that should have been rendered. But it wasn’t long after that that the assembly voted in a law that said that all lands that are taken from traitors are to be held in trust by the state. It’s all lands seized after July the ninth of last year, and I can remember the day because it’s the day that little Nelly Rivers was born. And it was after that day that they said that any transfers of land from departing tories was to be regarded as fraudulent.”

“And old Elijah Sweet had already bought some of it?”

“He had. Got a good price too, they say.”

“And Dorothy is keeping it?” whispered Sadie with a half smile.

“Well, the old man said that he bought it fair and square, and the tories who lived there are long gone up to Canada, and likely there to stay.”

“Well, I suppose it’s better hers than somebody else’s”

“And I say it’d be a crime if that land was taken away from him,” said Calee, and again, louder. “Well, from Dorothy, because it ain’t Lanny’s yet, is it? But it’s been bought and paid for, though, hasn’t it? And that’s the same with us slaves, ain’t it now? If that new state government they’re setting up is going to go freeing us slaves, then they ought to be buying us at a fair price, for otherwise it’s a tax unfairly imposed on their masters. And it’d be the ruin of some of them too, were they to lose all their slaves. Wouldn’t it be? They’ve borrowed money and they got to make payments or lose everything!”

The seizure and sale of tory lands Calee referred to is factual. The “library” she spoke of was a popular new trend in the 1700s. Public libraries would not appear for another eighty years. In 1776 a typical newspaper was a weekly that was purchased as an annual subscription. It was four pages long with five thousand words, equal to about fifteen paperback pages. Each issue cost four Continental cents, or two English pence (a price that the Stamp Act of 1785 would have more than doubled.) A typical book was the “pamphlet” by Thomas Paine called Common Sense. As a modern paperback it is only sixty pages long. It started at eighty cents but later dropped to twelve. These prices sound cheap but they were not. A semi-skilled laborer could hope to earn about forty cents for a ten-hour day, and a well-established tradesman usually earned about three times that. Wages varied widely with the task, the place and the season, and the high cost of food and clothing meant that little was available for luxuries like books.

What did Tim mean when he said “I’ll just have to bind you to a good and godly home.” A bound servant, or bondservant, or indentured servant, was employed under a contract that reduced him or her to the status of a slave for a period of years. Usually, the agreed on price was paid to his or her father, and the child was legally obliged to live and work in the master’s home. A wealthy master would often have a separate residence for his workers. As with slaves, runaway servants were captured, returned and whipped.

An apprentice was, as well, legally bound by a contract, but it was his father who made a payment to the new master. He would pay a lot if it went to a prosperous merchant or shipmaster. The contract denied the master of an apprentice the right to sell a boy to another without his father’s permission.

Indentured servants made up half to two-thirds of white immigrants to British colonies between 1630s and the 1770s. They had to be healthy and able to justify the cost of passage, which equaled three months pay for a strong young laborer. In the 1800s, social disapproval and legal reform led to a gradual decline in forced servitude. This often made life more difficult for the less capable person, who found it less easy to obtain housing and training. By 1865, when the Thirteenth Amendment freed both slaves and bound servants, the practice of indentured servitude had largely died out. It remained in parts of the Caribbean and South America until 1917.

Chapter 11

A storm coming, maybe.

“Mom’s worried about the weather,” said Denny to Tim as they waited in front of the home of Alice’s parents. “She says a clear blue sky foretells of a lifetime of marital bliss.” The day had dawned with grey clouds and cold wind. Dorothy had borrowed additional wagon and team from a neighbor. The first group had gone ahead so they could be ready to cheer the arrival of the bride and groom. Alice was with them so Lanny would not be able to see her in her new clothes before the ceremony.

“There’s likely nothing to it,” said Tim as he kept his eyes on the western horizon. “Here they come.”

They rode up smiling. Lanny and others called out greetings, and hurried to get inside. Denny and Tim delivered the mandatory jokes about how Alice had run off and Lanny obliged them by pretending to be worried, and then by sending them in to tell her that he was nowhere to be found. Once Lanny’s cloak was off, their admirers commented favorably on his wedding outfits. Lanny wore a deep green, collarless coat, matching breeches, a modestly laced dark velvet waistcoat, and a black cocked hat worn at a rakish angle.

Though Dorothy’s house was larger, even she realized that it would be unwise to hold so large a gathering in the home of a person who claimed to be loyal to the King. Their vows might have been solemnized where both families had been worshiping at Johnstown, only nine miles to the west of Dorothy’s. It was, however, Church of England, and its priest had fled with the hardcore of loyalists, two years before. What was left of its congregation did not dare hold a service. The Committee of Safety had made no decision but many said it should be given to a denomination that held a higher regard for the liberty of mankind.

The house was decorated with winter bouquets of pine, rose hips and holly. Lanny had been drinking laudanum since dawn and was in good spirits, smiling at everyone like they were his dearest friends. With the local priest long gone to Canada the stating of their marital vows was officiated by Harley, because he was the oldest member of the remaining congregation. Both Lanny and Alice were up to date with the latest fashions, based on reports from a woman who had heard it from a tailor who was also a militia soldier from Boston. He had information from a ship’s master who had been in Holland only three months before and had attended an event at the Royal Palace in Amsterdam. Alice wore a countrywoman’s jacket in a lively floral print with a plumb red petticoat. On her head was a fancy felt hat trimmed with ribbons and topped with an ostrich feather.

Dorothy had brought two casks of her applejack and it went well with the all the cakes and pies. There was as much cold beef as anyone could want, this being the time of year when cattle needed to be slaughtered because there was never enough hay to keep them all through the winter. Whenever the room started to quiet down, Tim and Sadie would be called on to play a song that people could sing along to. Spirits would rise back up and conversation would revive.

“You’ve a sad face for a fiddler,” said a young man to Tim. He had just been introduced to him as Willy Williams. Tim felt he knew him already because Denny had mentioned him so often in the stories he had told during their two days of walking.

“Oh… ah… I must be falling under the influence of the weather,” apologized Tim.

“Well, fear not, winter will be over by April.”

“So soon? Well… you’re a sad-looking sack of bones, yourself.”

“Me?” asked Willy with a surprised expression. “Well… I guess I’m…I’m thinking of those who might have been here with us, but are with us no more. ‘Tis a sad time for Tryon County, for sure. I’ll… I’ll just have to think of April flowers to come, won’t I? So… you’re the two fiddlers that Denny brought back from out east? You’re as good as he says. Dorothy must be happy to have you there with her.”

“We’re very fortunate. We could have ended up sharing a stall at a fort.”

“But they’re really not that badly off there, at the fort,” said Willy with a glance at Lanny, who had just burst out laughing. A change in his tone made Tim wonder if he might be one of the enemies Lanny had gained by expressing his opinions.

“They say you grow accustomed to sitting on straw around a fire. Or so I’m told. I’ve never tried it though, myself.”

“Denny says you know how to ride a horse. You might want come and help us out – me and some refugees from out west. We’re training horses for the Army.”

“I’d be honored to assist in any way.”

“The refugees will be over here now. They were at the house that’s to be Lanny’s and… They’re here for a few days to… allow the young couple their honeymoon.”

“That’s kind of them,” again wondering about Willy’s expression.

“And they brought the horses with them. We’ll be getting them out every day. When the refugees came, they were driving fifty of them. They bought them cheap from all the other folk who were being driven east.”

“What are you training them to do?”

“To obey any rider. Any rider, any command. Just to obey. That’s why we could use you. We teach them that it’s safe to go wherever they’re driven. We’ve got them jumping walls and charging through hedges. We’ll even fire a weapon right by their ear, to get them used to gunfire. And we’ll have dogs running around and barking – anything and everything. You’ve just got to make sure they don’t hurt themselves. It’s not unlike the training of men. Keep them alive until you send them to their death.”

“A less tedious a task than many.”

“Oh, we have a merry time,” said Willy with a shrug. “It’s like being a boy at play.”

“I’ll have a fine time. And I’d profit from the experience.”

“Denny says you’re already a good rider.”

“Better than I used to be. All last summer I was learning to ride. A wounded officer had time to train me. He told me that I now ride well enough for any army.”

“Well, we could put you to work tomorrow. The more we train them the more they’re worth.”

“Like the soldiers that’ll ride them,” laughed Tim.

“You’ll sing and play for Dorothy every evening, and train warhorses for the Army every morning,” said Willy with another dark look as Lanny burst out laughing again. “ Twill be the life of a gentleman.”

“And the pay’s good when it’s room and board at Dorothy Sweet’s. I’ll grow fat while I learn new songs. And now I’ll be a better horseman. It’ll give me more to offer them when I enlist in the spring. I would have last fall but I broke my arm. I missed out on the defeat of Burgoyne.”

“You want to march with the Continentals?” asked Willy, with a look that suggested that he doubted Tim’s intelligence. “It’s a hard life as a foot soldier. I’ve served two terms for the militia and that’s enough – two months each time. I think I’d have to be starving before I’d be willing to join the Continentals.”

“But you’ll miss out on the glory if you’re not there for the next battle.”

“I got my share of glory back at Oriskany.”

“So I’ve been told. You’re fortunate!”

“Fortunate to be alive. I was mostly reloading for Denny.”

“But you still had to make a target of yourself,” said Tim, in a voice that showed he was sincerely impressed. Firearms could only be loaded with the barrel upright, to allow the powder to fall down the barrel.

“Well, somebody had to do it. But I mostly let Denny do the aiming and firing. He’s one of the best shots around. And he’s just as good when under fire as he is when shooting at a target. Never trembled. Never jerked the trigger.”

“So I’ve heard,” said Tim, just as Sadie came over to suggest they play another tune.

“Lanny’s starting to look tired,” said Tim to Ozzy. It was midafternoon and an old man had borrowed Tim’s violin and was playing “When Johnny Comes Marching Home.” Everybody was singing along so there was little risk of being overheard.

“It could be a slow-acting poison,” joked Ozzy into Tim’s ear, with his hand cupped over his mouth.

“Indeed! And he’ll start feeling the cramps when it’s the time for bed.”

“He’ll not know if it’s poison or fear of the unknown.”

The clouds were still heavy and darkness would come by five. Some had already left but the newlyweds had only had a one-mile ride east to their new home. The celebration ended with a sentimental song, just enough to get the women in tears. Then the happy couple was gone. In a rush leftovers were loaded into pots, bags and boxes while others pulled on coats, cloaks and hats. Tim had heard one compliment after another, for both his music and his black eye, and was starting to feel like part of the community. The wind was picking up again when the rest of the Sweet family climbed back onto their wagons.

“A storm coming, maybe,” said Dorothy, as she looked in the direction Lanny and Alice had gone, to where the first flakes of snow were being carried off towards the gloomy eastern horizon.

Chapter 12

The Great Oaf of Tryon County

“Well Brother! And how does it feel to be a married man?” called Ozzy next morning as Lanny and Alice rode up to the house in the same two-wheeled chaise they had taken home the day before. The fields were covered in snow and everybody squinted in the sun.

“It felt well enough, yesterday, until I got home,” he replied with a frustrated smile. “But then I’d another blessed headache. I’ll just have to hope that it’s the blow to my head that caused it and not the bonds of holy matrimony.”

“But it was nothing that good laudanum and a night’s sleep didn’t cure,” said Alice. The Sweet and Surrey families were together for another midday dinner. Even this many guests was in clear defiance of the new laws that forbid meetings in the home of any who were inimical to the cause of freedom, but Harley Murphy was there, too, so no one was likely to complain.

After a light luncheon, Dorothy called them all outside into the bright sunshine. It was warm enough to dance and they started with “big circle” dance called Sellenger’s Round. Tim and Sadie played as they performed the figures with as much energy as they could without slipping and landing in slush and mud.

Dorothy had bought an excellent riding horse to give to the newlyweds and had ordered Jo out to saddle it up. The newlyweds gushed with amazement at such generosity. Lanny climbed on and galloped down the road and back as they watched. Then it was back to dancing, except for Lanny who was feeling light headed and felt he needed a rest. In this dance they formed a long line, the men on one side and the women on the other. Tim called the figures as he played “Johnny Fetch Your Wife Back.” They did one dance after another for close to two hours, until Denny got restless and threw a snowball at Ozzy. The dance degenerated into a snowball fight and all the women, except for Bessie, ran inside to avoid being hit. Dorothy lured the rest in with offers of mincemeat and punch and the men stood to dry off in front of a blazing fire. With additional tables and chairs from a neighbor they were able to sit everyone for a fine dinner with a selection of desserts.

It was not long however, before Dorothy advised them that the northwestern sky was bringing more clouds and that winter’s darkness would soon return. After everyone but the immediate family was gone Alice, in a frustrated voice, asked where Lanny had taken himself.

“Another nap, I suppose,” said Denny.

“If it please thee ma’am,” said Cassie, “he was just down in the barn with his horse.”

“Honestly!” huffed Alice. She pulled on her cloak to go look for him the other women followed.

In the barn their faces darkened with worry when Lanny did not answer to calls, either inside or out. Bessie then noticed droplets of blood in the straw at the bottom of the steep set of stairs that led up to the hayloft.

“Not another fall,” said Dorothy.

“He probably wasn’t backing down,” said Alice, “like he’s supposed to.”

“Here he is!” called Calee, from the back of a stall. She had been looking behind some barrels and found him huddled there as if he was shivering with cold.

“Lanny, get up!” demanded Alice but he made no move.

“He’s unconscious,” said Bessie.

“Here,” said Dorothy, “let’s help him up, Bessie, take his arm.”

As they pulled him up he mumbled and made an effort to stay on his feet.”

“There’s blood all over your good shirt!” whispered Alice. It was coming from the back of his head where the scab from the previous injury had been torn loose.

“Lanny!” shouted Bessie. “What’d you do to yourself?”

“Not so loud, Sister,” he responded, wincing in pain.

“He’s not had any more to drink than anyone else,” said Alice.

“What were you up in the loft for?” asked Bessie.

“The loft?” he asked.

“What’d you do to yourself?” demanded Alice.

“He must have lost his grip and fallen,” said Bessie, now sounding frightened. “But what business did he have in a loft full of hay?

. . . . .

“I guess you’re spending the night,” said Dorothy to Alice, after Lanny’s head had been washed and wrapped up in a sugar poultice. They had him sitting before the fire with his feet bare. After a dose of laudanum he was sipping a warm cup of applejack and medicinal herbs.

“Oh yes,” she replied with a smile. “ It was bad enough coming here. Six miles of bouncing over ruts?”

“I’ll let you two have the bed. I can join the girls up in the attic.”

“Oh no, we couldn’t...”

“You can if I say you can,” said Dorothy with a finger raised. “I’ll likely be warmer up there anyways. Tonight will be a cold night and those bed curtains don’t do a lot for an old woman. Oh, there’s a hopeful sign,” Dorothy then said, looking towards the fireplace. “Ozzy’s got him arguing politics.

“Good,” said Alice, as if to herself. “At least he’s not arguing with me.”

“Come over here,” Ozzy said to Tim and Denny, after he saw Dorothy and Alice go into the kitchen. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

“Hoping to get a colonel promoted to general?” joked Denny. Ozzy often doubted the wisdom of high-level promotions.

“Something closer to home,” said Ozzy. “We’ve got something to consider. There’s the same set of twos here, aren’t there? The same pairs we had the last time that you got brained,” he said to Lanny.

“Pairs of what?” grumbled Lanny.

“When you went down to the barn to admire your horse,” said Ozzy, quietly to keep Dorothy from hearing.

“You’re as bad as my wife! I went there thinking some of our guests were still admiring my horse!”

“Calee and Cassie,” continued Ozzy, “were in the cowshed milking, but you could have sustained your injury without them hearing over the sounds of milk squirting into buckets. That’d be loud enough. And they were likely talking too. And Joe and Abe were in there for a while feeding the horses, and Tim and Denny were in and out too, and so were Bessie and myself. We went in there with your in-laws, but just as we got to the door their mother was calling them from the wagon. She was wondering where you were, too. So it could have been any time during all those goings in and comings out that you either fell down the steps, landed on your head and crawled into the corner, or somebody brained you again, dragged you over, and covered the signs of your being dragged.”

“Brother,” said Lanny with a compassionate smile, “I know you mean well but…”

“I’m not saying I’m convinced of it,” said Ozzie with his hands up. “I’m just saying it’s something that should not be ruled out.”

“Oh good grief!” snorted Lanny. “Am I to be looking over my shoulder wherever I go?”

“I wouldn’t advise it, Brother,” said Denny, “for then you’d be walking into doors.”

“Now,” said Ozzie, “there would have been little opportunity to plan and stage an attack and...”

“Therefore,” interrupted Lanny, “we can rule out an attack.”

“No, we cannot, for it could have been someone acting on an impulse, couldn’t it? Just like in the woods.”

“Where I fell from of a tree! On my own!”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Brother,” joked Denny.

“Now, it was Joe and Abe,” said Ozzy with his hand up to hold back Lanny’s words, “who would have had the greatest opportunity and the clearest motive.”

“They’d never raise a hand against me,” said Lanny, sounding offended.

“Indeed, surely not,” agreed Denny. “For we know how they value your wise counsel.”

“And why should they not?” asked Lanny, who knew Denny was teasing.

“Indeed they shouldn’t,” continued Denny. “So, all indications point to myself and Tim. We were in there for just long enough before we were called back. And Tim here, could be the mysterious stranger from the east under whose maleficent influence I’ve fallen.”

“Is this a confession?” asked Lanny.

“This is hardly something to joke about,” said Ozzy. “And word is now getting around that the Sweet siblings are trying to do each other in, to limit the number of heirs.”

“Let them talk,” said Lanny with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“And if they don’t believe that,” said Ozzy, “then what will they believe? The whole community will soon be fearing a would-be assassin who’s still at large.”

“So who would be best to bear the burden of blame?” joked Denny as he placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “Why for sure it’s Tim Euston, here. Let’s all blame the friendless outsider who’s only come to this land in search of opportunity. Blame the one who would be mourned by none but his poor sister.”

“Exactly,” said Ozzy, now sounding angry on Tim’s behalf. “And, aside from the fact that he has no motive, Tim would never have done such a thing because he’d know he’s too easy a target. Even if he is here in the pay of the enemy, which of course is so unlikely that it doesn’t warrant consideration, then where would his motive lie?”

“You’ll think of something,” chuckled Denny.

“You may jest, “ said Ozzy, “but this sort of scapegoating has happened all too often. And is it not our duty as citizens to see to it that it does not? Are we not founding a new nation upon the principles of liberty and justice? Tim here, and those like him, who have come out west to tame the wilderness and build a nation, require the support of one and all. For how else will Tryon County hold together under the threats that beset it now? How will it grow and prosper in the future?”

“Yea yea,” nodded Lanny. “So let’s all assume that I’m naught but a clumsy oaf and that no one has been plotting my demise.”

“Well, if it can protect our friend Tim,” said Denny, “then I’m for calling you the clumsiest oaf west of the Hudson.”

“Then let us shout it from the rooftops!” said Lanny. “Let all who come to this land know of the Great Oaf of Tryon County! What do you say, Tim? Spare your reputation by condemning me for an oaf?”

“That would be kind of you,” said Tim with a brief smile. He was not in a mood to smile though, because he could not help but wonder whether Ozzy’s defense of him was calculated to ease his access to Sadie.

Chapter 13

He’ll listen to you!

The next morning, after Lanny and Alice had gone home, Sadie noticed Calee going out the back door carrying a steaming bucket. It was time to skim the cream and her utensils had been rinsed with boiled water. This was one of many tricks of the trade Sadie had learned before in her effort to become a able dairymaid. Knowing that Calee would be at work for at least half an hour, Sadie followed her to the cowshed that had been built onto one side of the barn. Calee was lifting a sheet off two crocks that held the morning’s milk. Sadie picked up the wide, shallow ladle used for skimming and went to work, dipping it just deep enough to allow the cream to flow in, and then pouring it into a smaller crock. “Does the medicine you gave me give you stomach cramps.”

“Oh, yes it can, girl. But that shouldn’t mind you at all. That just tells you’ve a good enough dose for it to do its work. It’ll pass soon enough and you’ll be the better for it.”

“I hope so,” sighed Sadie as she carefully loaded another skimmer full. Everything in the room had been scrubbed clean, the sign of a good dairymaid. “That Ozzy is a charmer, isn’t he?”

“He is that and always has been,” said Calee with a smile. “I remember when he used to bring me flowers. He and his sister would pick dandelions or daisies, and he’d come to me with them and hand them to me with a bow, playing the little gentleman. It just comes natural to some. A natural gentility, they call it. Though I’d make such a fuss over it, I was probably training him.”

“Tim’s afraid I’ll be easy prey for him.”

“Did he say that!” asked Calee, pretending to be shocked.

“Well, he as much as said it.”

“Next time he does you just tell him to go talk to Calee and I’ll teach him some proper manners.”

“I suspect you could,” said Sadie as she looked at the size of her shoulders. “And I’m thinking that you and Bessie used to wrestle like a pair of boys.”

“Oh, she’d try to. But I’m seven years older than her. I’d let her think she was winning for a while but she never could.”

“I’d have to wonder whether even Lanny could beat you.”

“No, he couldn’t either, poor boy,” said Calee with a smirk, “ ‘cause by the time he was big enough to, it’d been forbidden by Elijah. And I suspect you know why.”

“Of course. So, he was left with only Ozzy to wrestle?”

“Well, there’s four years between those two, so it wasn’t no contest.”

“He’d bully him, I suppose?” asked Sadie.

“Well, boys will be boys. If Lanny was ever caught tormenting him then he’d get a good caning, but Ozzy was too proud to tell on him. Bessie was too.”

“And I suppose he bullied little Denny too?”

“Oh… well… Lanny’s just a boy. How much can you ask of one?”

“Yes, I suppose,” sighed Sadie.

“And then, by the time Lanny was sent off to school, at eighteen, little Denny was old enough to pick up where Lanny left off. Only he’d just taunt and tease. Both of them. A clever little sprite, he was. He still is. Ozzy would fume at his little stories but… it never did him no harm.”

“He and Bessie were always close though, weren’t they? Alice was telling me so.”

“Well, they’re just one year apart,” said Calee as she examined the previous days curds. “There weren’t any boys or girls their age nearby. And they’ll still not pick their nose without the other’s approval. Though not so much since she’s been married and off to live in another house. She’s only a half a mile away, though, and now that she’s alone with just her hired girl, he’s always back over there, helping out.”

“But I suppose that’s good though, isn’t it?” asked Sadie, who was trying to think of anything to keep her talking.

“Yea, you don’t need a husband when you’ve got a brother like that.”

“They’ve all high aspirations, don’t they, all the Sweets? They all aim to better themselves.”

“Lord bless them, yes,” laughed Calee. “They’re a-aiming high and the whole family’s that way. And they’re well tutored and well read and well spoken. It’s a blessing just to live among them, for I learn so much by listening.”

“I’m told that Denny wants to lead armies into battle.”

“He does that, and good for him for he’ll be fighting the Lord’s battle.”

“But not the others though, do they?”

“Not so much. Not that they’ll talk about. But they’re willing to do their soldiering when they’re called for, with the militia. Usually. And with battles like up at Oriskany, they’ve had war enough to prove themselves. Good honest citizens, they are.”

“Yes, they are,” said Sadie in a softer voice. “And you can tell, even without hearing about it, can’t you? And Denny’s teasing won’t be able to discourage Ozzy. Not from going after his great goals. I doubt anything could.”

“No, I don’t think so. A fine boy he is.”

“Bessie says he dreams of wealth and power.”

“He wanted to go to King’s College, down in the city, and he wanted to be bound to a lawyer. But, his father didn’t think that a good… investment.”

“He tells me he’s aiming to make his fortune as a farmer.”

“He is now,” said Calee with a shrug. “Now that he’s left with no option. And if he’s not to be a lawyer or a priest, then what’s all the schooling for? Why learn Latin and Greek? It won’t fatten the hogs.”

“But he certainly will further himself by showing that he’s a good patriot, won’t he? For proving that he’s a credit to the community? Like he does with his electrical machine and like he did by marching off to Oriskany. And that’ll matter, won’t it, even long after the war’s over. Assuming that we don’t lose.”

“Well, they’re saying that, now with Burgoyne’s surrender, the war’s surely over already. Or at least by the spring.”

“Well,” sighed Sadie, “who really knows where things are headed though? Who could have predicted what’s happened so far?”

“Yea, no one could have? So much war. But still, you’re right, it’ll give him an advantage.”

“And especially for those who’ve got their commission for officer, or who’s been on a committee. They’ll be the new better sort, won’t they be? And that means they’ll likely get all the public offices and all the advantages that go with it.”

“Well… we’ll have to see,” said Calee with a sigh.

“But so much of it is just luck though, isn’t it? Luck and… hard work of course… and honesty… and good religion… But still, a man can just be too sickly to ever make something of himself.”

“Yea, how far can a man go if he’s sickly?”

“But the Sweets aren’t sickly.”

“Not in body.”

“What?”

“Not in body or mind. The Lord’s blessed them, for sure.”

. . . . .

Later on, when Sadie saw Denny and Tim arriving at the barn on horseback, she went to meet them. “A visit to Able Bass’s farm?” she asked Tim after Denny left for the house.

“I am not at liberty to say,” replied Tim in a superior tone.

“While Able is off again to visit his poor mother?”

Tim did not reply. Bessie had just come in. She gave Sadie an irritated look. Sadie wondered if she might want to talk to Tim and had hoped to get him alone.

“I told Calee that I wanted to help with supper,” said Sadie to Tim. “That way I find out how she makes her sauce. It’s better than any I’ve ever made, isn’t it?”

“It is that,” said Tim.

The smaller door was off to the side in the passage that led from the main barn to the cowshed, so Bessie would not be able to see whether Sadie had actually gone out. Sadie opened it and then pulled it closed with a bang. Still inside, she crept closer to listen without being seen.

“A pleasant day for a ride,” said Bessie, sounding like she was on the brink of tears.

“It is,” said Tim as he pulled off a saddle and carried it to where it was kept.

“Well! Well! That brother of mine!” said Bessie with great intensity as she paced one way and then back again.

“Denny?”

“Lanny! Who else?”

“How’s he feeling?”

“The same as always, is what! Back to how he’s always been!”

“Oh?”

“And he’s… he’s. Oh, I can’t tell you! It’s too shameful! He’s… I can tell you this much! He’s… he is no longer any brother of mine!”

“Oh,” said Tim, after a silence.

“And he’s likely a… well, what I think is that he’s surely a tory or a spy – or both!”

“Is he? I mean… but surely he’s not.”

“Well! Hasn’t he been calling down everything we patriots have been trying to achieve?” asked Bessie as she waved her hands in the air. “All along he’s been! Misguided is what he calls half of what’s been accomplished! And hasty, too! And especially last year when they voted in the Declaration! He said it would surely bring an end to what freedoms we had.”

“Did he really?”

“And back when the Congressmen were saying that the newspapers and the pamphlets had to end their condemnation of the pope and the Jesuits – back when the fighting started. And they only did it because it made good sense! It was only because they figured that we needed the Frenchmen up in Canada to join with us in common cause. But he said that it was the height of arrogance to deny a man his right to speak his mind on so important a thing as his faith.”

“Did he?”

“And he’s always asking questions about military matters that shouldn’t concern him. About who’s been promoted and about how strong our forces are. And where they ought to be posted. Things like that!”

“Well,” said Tim, who was wondering what might have triggered such an outpouring of anger. “So… what’s he gone and said now.”

“Oh! What hasn’t he? I oughtn’t tell you! I shouldn’t tell anyone! If it got back to Mom, it’d be the death of her. She’s suffered so much, these past months. This would be too much for her to bear.”

“But… she’s a loyalist now, isn’t she? What has he said that…”

“Oh no no no!” groaned Bessie. “It’s not that. She claims to be loyalist now but… it’s not that! And I can’t tell you what it is because... Oh! Poor mother, she’s suffered so much that... First it was my Stephen dying. And all the others who died too, and all those who are maimed for life. And then it was the news of Burgoyne’s surrender, because that’s what killed father. Or so she thinks it was. Grandpa died the same way though. It was all of the sudden and there hadn’t been any joyful news that had just arrived. He was out hoeing the potatoes and he came in for lunch and laid down for a rest and then Mom found him. He died right there where he lay. It didn’t take anything at all. But with Dad… Well Mom thinks the news of the victory was too much for him. And for her, that that means it’s the revolution that killed him.”

“Yes, but... if Lanny’s now a loyalist? Wouldn’t your mother be…”

“Oh, I don’t know what he is! And it’s not that that matters now anyways! Oh! Tim you have to promise you’ll not tell her. You can’t tell anyone! She can’t know! It’d kill her!”

“Of course, I won’t tell anyone! We owe her so much, for her kindness – me and Sadie both.”

“Cassie’s just back from Lanny’s. She’d been sent along with them to help out, and now she’s back and saying that Lanny’s gotten himself drunk, and that he’s raving and calling Alice this and accusing her of that and… and when Alice gave him a scolding he… he…”

“What’s he done,” asked Tim, expecting the worst.

“Cassie said that… she said he’s given her a… given her a beating. And not just a caning, either! He’s beaten her with his fists! She’s a red mark on her cheek that’s surely from a fist. And he’s so big and strong and she’s so small! But… don’t ask Cassie to repeat this for she knows she’s not to tell of family business. She’ll just deny it.”

“Of course she would,” said Tim, who had his fist at his mouth, biting it as he paced back and forth. “Maybe if someone were to go talk to him?”

“You’re exactly right! That’s what’s needed! Cassie said the ride there had given him another headache. It was so bumpy on the frozen ruts! It’d given him such a headache! And he’d started drinking applejack because he’d finished all the laudanum, and it wasn’t helping him any. It was only making him crazy drunk.”

“Well, maybe if Ozzy or Denny…”

“No, that would only make things worse. They don’t get along. They never have. Neither could talk any sense into him, not when he’s like this.”

“Maybe Harley Murphy…”

“No no no, they’re barely on speaking terms. They just pretend to be for mother’s sake. It’s because Lanny’s so… outspoken. He thinks he should be on the committee and is offended because he’s not being invited. He… Tim, he respects you. He’s heard such good things about you and he figures you likely saved his live when he was attacked. Sure, he likely just fell from a tree but now he’s decided that it was more than likely a deliberate attack, and he’s feeling in debt to you for saving him.”

“He really believes that I saved him?”

“He does! And he’ll listen to you! Could you go over? Please! Just take one of the horse’s, here. Mom won’t find out. I’ll say that I told you it was mine to lend. And she never comes out here this time of day, anyway. Not usually. And she’ll not fault you for trying. She’ll appreciate it. But it’d be so much better if she didn’t have this on her mind, on top of all else. It’d be too much for her to bear. I don’t want her dying too.”

“No, of course not. Of course I could go talk to him,” said Tim, as he took hold of her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze for reassurance.

Chapter 14

This is his confession!

Tim saddled a horse and left by way of the pasture behind the barn so he could not be seen from the house. And, he told himself, if Dorothy notices the horse gone I’ll just tell her the truth. I’ve nothing to be ashamed of. And maybe she ought to know.

The sky was cloudy and the wind was bitter. By the time he had covered the six miles his fingers ached with cold. He recognized the house because Denny had pointed it out on their long walk west. As he rode up, the mastiff hounds started barking. They were kenneled in the barn but could see visitors through the chinks in the vertical wallboards. Tim had been to many dogfights and could imagine how the great beasts would look as they tore at each other. And because he had been an apprentice he knew, as well as any soldier or slave, the fear of being hunted by dogs.

Tim saw that the hitching post around the side, in front of a small hut built of roughly squared logs. It had probably been the home of the original settler and it was likely now a chicken coop. He walked the horse over and tied it up, not looking forward to a confrontation with Lanny. If he got on the wrong side of him, Lanny might try to persuade his mother to order him and Sadie out of her house. He went back to the door and knocked.

“Come in,” called Lanny. He was sitting at the table. Now one else seemed to be about.

“Thought I’d drop in,” Tim said cheerfully. “Just delivering a… a letter to… a farm that we’d stopped at on the way up.”

“In service of the committee?” guessed Lanny. “Well, don’t tell me anything I don’t need to know.”

“Thought I’d just stop in and… How’d you manage the ride over?”

“Not well. Worst blasted headache ever.”

“Oh… well…” said Tim as he sat down and wondered how he would start. “Well… bumpy ride, must have been?”

“I should have stayed there. Can’t get anything done here anyways. Pour yourself a cup of applejack. It’ll warm you for your journey back.”

“Why… certainly.”

“Fetch a cup,” he said, pointing.

“I will,” said Tim as he jumped up and raced across the room to choose one. There were several. The refugees had likely brought all of their lightweight, high value goods with them. The sorts of things that enemy plunderers would want for easy resale.

“A fine batch my mother got her hands on. Traded it for mincemeat.”

“It helped make the wedding feast a… the fine feast that it was.”

“Fine for all but me,” grumbled Lanny.

“Well… ah… a bad run of luck you’ve suffered.”

“It is that. And they say that trouble comes in threes so I’m waiting for the third.”

“Well… you’ll have to be careful then,” joked Tim. “The foul mood the first two put you in may be the cause of the third.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well… we’re all prone to doing things we regret when we’re in a bad temper.”

“You’re thinking I’ll hurl myself to the ground a third time?”

“Well… no… not that, specifically. But… there’s… all sorts of things a man might do when in a… a bad mood. Things he’d regret.”

“I’ll keep my eyes open then,” said Lanny as his eyes returned to his cup.

“But… hasn’t it already happened though?” asked Tim with a sympathetic smile.

“Hasn’t what’s happened?”

“Well… you’re actions of… earlier today. Of… your losing of your temper and…”

“What?”

“Well, you’re...”

“Losing of my temper?”

“Well… ah… Well, I’d heard you’d had a fit of… temper, and…”

“Who told you that?”

“Well, I…”

“Calee?”

“Well, I shouldn’t say, really I…”

“And what business is it of yours, anyway?”

“Well… when it gets… when it’s so… Well, it’s everybody’s business, isn’t it?”

“Everybody’s business!” said Lanny as he rose up in his chair. At that moment the door swung open and Alice came in, obviously surprised to see Tim.

“Good day,” said Tim, getting up and making a bow.

“Oh… good day to you,” she said in a faint voice, and seeming embarrassed. “I’ve brought a bottle,” she said to Lanny in a less sympathetic tone. When she got closer, Tim could see a small red spot on her cheek and could only imagine how many bruises he might behold were she to be standing naked before him.

“Young Tim here,” said Lanny, “has been hearing stories about me. Of me losing my temper and doing things that I ought to regret.”

“Oh?” asked Alice.

“Taking an interest in my welfare, he is,” said Lanny in a louder voice. The door was still partly open and again the dogs were barking. “Says it’s everybody’s business.”

“Alice,” Tim said as he stepped towards her, “you’ve… you’ve a spot on your cheek.” He had not intended that statement to come out sounding like it did, as if he were making an accusation, but his heart was pounding and he could feel sweat rise from every pore.

“Oh…” gasped Alice. “I’d… I’d just. I just bumped into a… a door. It’s nothing, really.”

“Lanny,” said Tim as he turned. He was trying to contain his anger and maintain a calm and caring voice. “You’ve hit your head twice. You can’t know how much damage you might have done to yourself. You need to consider…”

“And again I wonder what business it is of yours,” said Lanny, with one hand on his hip and the other pointing a finger.

“Well… if not me then… who?” asked Tim, again sounding less calm than he wanted. “When I found you wounded in the woods, was it not my duty to try and help. And it would surely help if… Sometimes it’s enough to simply make an admission of… to make a confession and to ask for forgiveness.”

“Make an admission and a confession? To you, Tim Euston, the fiddler from far away, whose come to save us from our sins?”

“Well no, to… to Alice, and… and to the… the Almighty.”

“And now you’re advising me on how to make my peace with God?”

“No! I mean… yes, but…”

“And has the Almighty granted unto you the privilege of coming in here like this – here, to act as my judge – here, to judge me like a high court judge upon his bench, demanding admissions and confessions?”

“Please Tim,” begged Alice as she took hold of his arm. “Not now. I’ve got medicine for him. Let me… Please just go and…”

“Indeed, yes!” said Lanny. “Please go! You’re evidently not welcomed here by either of us!”

“I… well… I…” stammered Tim. “But will you be all right?” he asked Alice in a soft voice.

Overwhelmed, she did not realize that she still had her hands on his arm. She could not help but feel touched by his concern. They looked into each other’s eyes, momentarily mesmerized.

“Get thyself out of this house!” snarled Lanny, sounding like he was trying to contain tremendous rage.

Tim muttered a brief apology, turned and walked out, going in the direction of Dorothy’s, instead of around to where his horse was tied. The dogs were still barking.

“Keep on you way, my boy!” sneered Lanny from the door. “You’ve got that letter to deliver and it’s a long way back!”

Tim stopped.

“Keep going!” ordered Lanny. “And take your New England preaching with you! Take your puritan zeal and go purify the swine!”

“There may come a time,” said Tim as he turned and placed his fists on his hips, “when you’ll ask the help of such as me!”

“The help of such as thee?” asked Lanny as he walked out to Tim, again pointing his finger. “A opinionated young pup, who thinks himself a judge of…”

“Perhaps when you’ve recovered you senses!” said Tim as he slapped aside the finger.

“How darest thou!” growled Lanny, giving Tim a shove. Tim shoved back and then they grappled for a hold. Lanny was much bigger but alcohol and his injury had weakened him. He slipped and fell, his head landing on frozen horse manure.

Harley and Denny rode around the side of the barn, just in time to hear Alice cry out and rush to Lanny’s side. They dismounted and went to see if he was injured.

“Lanny? Speak to me!” wailed Alice.

“What is this?” Harley demanded of Tim, sounding like he assumed the worst.

“I… I… I’d just come to talk to him!” pleaded Tim. “Bessie asked me to! But he… he twisted my every word! He’s crazy!”

“Is it your business to be here and…” started Harley.

“Bessie had… She’d just…” stammered Tim. “He’s a danger to her! And he’s likely a tory spy and a traitor too! That’s why he stayed back! He likely knew about Oriskany in advance and… And Alice is now…”

“Please Tim, no more!” begged Alice. Lanny was trying to get on his feet and she was helping him.

“Are you all right?” asked Harley.

“You!” said Lanny to Tim, with wild eyes “Thou dost dare to accuse me? Thou hast come here and claimed that my wife needs you as her protector? Thou comest here to drive a wedge between her and her lawfully wedded husband? And you dare to call me spy and traitor! It was you then, wasn’t it? It was you on the hunt, and you with the laudanum, and you in the barn! You were there each and every time. And now you are here. And for what? Trying to eliminate me as a rival for my Alice? Here to try kill me again! Thou enemy of righteousness! Thou art here to kill a man so you can steal his wife!”

As Lanny made these accusations Tim was backing away, his mouth open. He realized that by being there he had ruined everything. By coming there, and saying the things he had said, he had made himself the prime suspect in Harley’s investigation. And Harley had arrived in time to hear it all. Harley had been coming to visit Dorothy so often to find out who had tried to murder Lanny, and now he had been given cause to make an arrest. And how well, Tim asked himself, will a stranger like me fare before a jury of men who live in daily fear of spies and saboteurs and assassins?

“Lanny please! Don’t say such things!” begged Alice as she stepped between them. “Poor Tim’s just been led astray. And by Ozzy, no doubt! And surely Ozzy only meant well, and surely Tim only meant well too! Harley,” she begged, turning to him with her hands out, “don’t believe what Lanny’s saying, for he’s not well and he’s only confused, and he’d not say such things if he were well. And surely, he’s wrong about poor Tim. Tim only meant well and he’s only gotten the wrong impression, and… and it’s my own fault, really, for I’d not explained it well enough. And poor Lanny, he’s just thinking things he’d never have thought if…”

“Enough please,” said Harley, holding up his hand to keep back her words. He turned to Lanny, to see what he might now say in response.

But Lanny was not there. They looked around and then heard horses at a gallop. Harley and Denny had left their horses loose and not far from where Tim had tied his. Lanny was now mounted on one and had the two other horses by the reigns, leading them as they galloped off in the direction of his mother’s house.

“What in blazes?” started Harley.

“Look at him!” demanded Tim. “He’s stolen your horses! This proves it! This is his confession! This proves that he’s guilty! Guilty of all that’s been said of him and… No doubt he’s off to Canada, to join his fellow traitors, for he obviously knew about Oriskany and he’s on the run! Off to join the tories and to plot against our freedoms!”

“There’s horses in the barn, isn’t there?” Harley asked Alice.

“What horses?”

“The ones that they’re training.”

“No, they took them. Willy and the others took them back to father’s place, to work on them there. And Lanny’s aren’t back yet. Cassie took them with the wagon and they’re not back.”

“Blast!” muttered Harley.

“He’ll surely go at Dorothy’s,” said Tim. “For provisions!

“We could run over to Joe Snelling’s for horses,” said Harley.

“But surely he’s not on the run!” insisted Alice. “He’s just…”

“I’m not assuming anything, my dear,” said Harley, “ But he’s taken our horses and… whatever he’s up to, we’ve still got to go after him. Fear not, for we’ll not hurt him.”

“Oh… well…” stammered Alice. “You could go back to father’s and get horses!

“No, Joe’s no further and he’s in the right direction. We could overtake him. Come on! You stay back here, Alice. Or maybe you should go to your father’s. Yes do that! Stay the night there! Then I’ll not have to worry about you.”

Chapter 15

Victim to the devil’s temptations.

“Well, he just rode off up that a-way,” said Cassie, pointing to the northwest. “And in an awful rush he was too – shouting out orders to us. And the mistress was all just a-flapping her wings too, the poor dear. I don’t know what it was about but he was here and gone in near to the time it’d take to tie a shoe. Two horses he took with him. One piled high with sacks of whatever we could get on it. I heard him say that he’d trade for what he didn’t have, once on the trail. And he must have taken every last bit of the mincemeat that we had! And that was to be for all the winter! But he’ll have no trouble trading that though, will he? You can get near to anything in trade for good mincemeat.”

“And where was he headed off to?” chuckled Harley, who was trying to hide his frustration with false levity. The neighbor they had gone to for horses had been out with his team but had been expected back right away. They had paced about for over a half an hour, answering his son’s stupid questions, before the man finally shown up. They would have made it faster if they had walked.

“Well,” said Cassie with a shrug. “I’d thought it’d be you that’d know that. The mistress will know though, for he’d taken her aside to talk, and she’d kept making all sorts of faces. And then she was in as much of a rush as he was, the poor dear.”

“Aiding and abetting him,” Harley muttered to himself.

“And he took young Sadie with him, too.”

“Sadie?” asked Tim.

“She was just getting back from Mistress Bessie’s. She’d taken something over there and looked to be bringing something back.”

“And he took her with him?”

“Well… she went with him. I was coming out of the house and I saw him stop to talk to her. Up over there,” she said, pointing to the road. “And then he helped her on the horse, up on top of all else that was piled on. And she looked to be worried too, about what he’d told her.”

“He didn’t look to be threatening her?” asked Tim.

“Why, no!” gasped Cassie. “Why’d you think that?”

“It’s all right,” said Harley. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“No,” said Cassie, after a pause, having realized that there was something they were very worried about.

“Let’s go in,” said Denny, “as if we’re just back from committee work, and see what she has to say. Now you don’t tell anything about this to anybody,” he said to Cassie, “Not just yet.”

“Well, she’s worried about something,” said Harley to Denny and Tim later, after they had gone inside and exchanged pleasantries with Dorothy. She had gone into the kitchen to ask Calee to warm some beer.

“And it’s something she can’t share,” said Denny. “Likely about the carrying of intelligence up to Montreal. A crucial mission that’ll win him the favor of a new Royal Governor after the rebellion collapses and stable government returns.”

“Maybe,” said Harley. “He might even have claimed to be the Royal Governor in waiting.”

“A crass appeal to a mother’s pride,” said Denny with a smile. “And maybe he’s told her that she’ll get to meet the Prince of Wales when he crosses he sea on the flagship of the royal fleet.”

“But what could he have said to Sadie to make her go with him?” asked a grave looking Tim, who wondered what kind of treatment Sadie could expect from a madman who might now be desperate.

. . . . .

“How much farther is it?” asked Sadie. She and Lanny had been riding for over an hour and her toes were cold.

“There’s been reports of tory bandits on the north road,” said Lanny. “I’d risk going that way by myself, but with you along I’d rather be safe than sorry. This trail will get us to where we’re going and in safety. Better safe than fast, I always say.” Under cloud cover he had circled back and was on his way east, back to his house. He had told his mother that he was on his way to Montreal. He knew that the others would not know whether he had gone there or west to Fort Oswego. Either assumption would take them on a wild goose chase, allowing him to go home, pack more supplies, and take Alice and the dogs. He could then go east, the last direction they would guess,. After a good night’s sleep and a hot breakfast they could start out at first light.

“It’ll be dark soon,” warned Sadie.

“Fear not, my dear, for we’re almost to where we can stay the night,” he said, sounding pleased with himself.

“Good,” said Sadie after a pause. She had doubts. Lanny had told her that Tim had gone to a neighbor’s with Denny and had injured himself in fall from the loft of a barn. He had claimed, as well, that it would not be far.

“But this is your house!” said Sadie, a short while later as they rode up.

“I… I’d thought better of trying to make it all the way,” said Lanny as he climbed off his horse. He had gone pale from all the riding and had not expected her to know what his house looked like. “Ah… Tim’s in good hands though. We’ll go see him in he morning. Better safe than sorry, don’t you think?”

“Why is it dark,” she asked when inside.

“Oh… I’d lent the boys to Alice’s parents, to get ahead on their firewood. Alice has likely gone there with them. She’s homesick, I think. They’ll likely be bringing her back any time now. Or maybe tomorrow.”

“And where is Tim, exactly?”

“Over the hill and through the woods,” joked Lanny as he poked at the embers to encourage a flame. “Resting before a warm fire, I’m sure. Well cared for by a pretty pair of sisters.”

“Which neighbor?”

“The… the Warren’s.”

“I thought you’d said the Wright’s!”

“Did I… oh… well, it’d been the Wright farm before the widow had married a Warren. We… got to get used to calling it the Warren farm now, shouldn’t we, though that’ll take a while getting used to, won’t it?”

“Lanny. You’d never said ‘the Wright’s.” You said ‘the Warren’s. Why are you making this all up?”

“I… well… surely you’re…”

“Tell the truth, Lanny!” she demanded.

“Oh… oh please don’t,” he begged, holding his hand to his brow. Moving like an old man he went to the table and sat down on the bench.

“And why make up all this about Tim,” Sadie asked, standing over him with her arms folded. “What do you need me for? What do you suppose Alice is going to think when she sees me here?”

“Its… I’ll… I’ll explain in a moment.”

“And that was a hastily packed horse. Why such a rush? Why the need to tell lies and why bring me along?”

“I can explain!” he snapped, slapping his hand on the table. He was obviously in pain.

“Explain it then! Are you in fear of those who plot against you? Do you imagine a killer on your trail?”

“Oh, I don’t know!” he moaned, now on the brink of tears.

“Who is after you, Lanny? Who do your fear?”

“It’s… it’s your brother is who! He and Denny, and likely Ozzy as well! They’re trying to kill me! Denny’s always hated me! He thinks he deserves everything! He a madman! He killed a dozen men up at Oriskany, just for his pleasure! And the way he’d battle the tory boys – brawling like sailors. They’re animals – all of them!”

“Who’s ‘them’?”

“Him and his friends! Half of them are dead now and the rest are off with the Army, except for Willy. Denny would be with them too, only he’s still holding out for a commission. He thinks he deserves that too! But what he truly deserves is a noose round his neck! And he’ll get one soon enough! And you can just hope he doesn’t drag your brother down with him! And… and wasn’t he and Tim together both times – both times I was struck down and left for dead? Weren’t they? When we were hunting, and again in the barn? And now again here! They were here together.”

“They were here?”

“And Harley was with him too! And Denny will stop at nothing! He want’s all of our mother’s land! And when he’s finished with me it’ll surely be Ozzy who’s next! He’ll never quit! But he’s clever enough to know he’ll need to make it look like someone else did it. And that likely means your brother.”

“Oh stop it! This is all ridiculous! Tim would never be part of such a thing.”

“But Denny will lie to anyone! He’s likely persuaded Tim that he’s acting for of the committee! He probably says he’s doing it all under the direction of the Army with orders from the General Gates himself! He’ll lie to anyone! He’s the devil incarnate!”

“He’s not told Tim anything of the sort! Tim would have told me. We’re as close as Ozzy and Bessie.”

“But somebody’s trying to kill me!” whined Lanny as he put his head back in his hands. “They’re after me! Sooner or later they’ll succeed and… I... I don’t want to die!”

“Lanny, you’re inventing all of this.”

“When Tim was here today, he accused me of beating Alice!”

“Tim was here?”xxxx

“He was! You didn’t know that? He came here today! He beat me! And when I’m weak and in pain! He tried to kill me again, but then Harley came and saved me from him. And then he accused me of being a tory and a spy!”

“Tim did?”

“I had to run! I went straight to Mom’s! They likely made it there just after we left! They’re all after me! Denny likely has Harley fooled too! He can deceive anyone!”

“Ozzy doesn’t believe that Tim means you any harm. You heard him say so.”

“But Ozzy said…”

“Lanny, listen! Surely you just fell, both times! Both times you likely just fell, and it was the fall that made you sleep so long!”

“But… but now that I’ve stolen their horses.”

“Stolen their horses?”

“Even Harley’s! I was afraid! I thought he’d believe Tim and Denny and arrest me and hang me! I stole his horse and he’s a committeeman! They’ll call that treason! And who’ll they believe now? They’ll call me a traitor and they’ll hang me for a horse thief, if for nothing else.”

“Lanny, they’ll think that you’ve had the senses knocked out of you.”

“And I lied to my mother. I told her I was acting for the King. I said I was on my way to Montreal – on a mission! Now she’ll tell everybody. Not right away but she’ll say things. And then I’ll hang for that if they don’t murder me first! And it’s all Denny’s doing! He’s a schemer! He hates me! He always had! He belittles me in front of Mom! And he’s so clever with words! He’ll have her laughing at me! Everybody will be laughing at me! And now he’ll have me dead and out of his way! And I’ve done nothing! But no one will believe me! And now Mom will hate me too, for I’ve lied to her!”

“Oh, be quiet,” sighed Sadie. “I’ll make you some supper. Have you laudanum for your head?”

“No, there’s none.”

“Well then… you need to rest. Surely you’ve more of that applejack. What’s this?” she asked, picking up the bottle of laudanum that Alice had brought back from her parent’s. She pulled out the cork and smelled it.

“I am not a traitor!” he sobbed as he leaned on table with his head in his hands. “I’m naught but an innocent patriot in fear of assassins. Innocent and wrongfully accused! And now Mom will hate me, for I’ve lied to her. I’ve borne false witness to my own mother! Oh why, why did I do such a thing?”

“You’ll feel better when you’ve eaten something. And Tim would never involve himself in such plotting. Both he and Denny dream of a commission in the Army. Why would they ruin their reputations with this?”

“No, you’re wrong! He’s got you and Tim fooled. And no one will believe me! I’ll surely hang if they catch me! The committeemen will believe any story so long as it’s about some tory plot. Tim called me a tory spy!”

“He did not,” muttered Sadie as she lit a candle on the fire so she could look for ingredients.

“He did! I swear it to you! Just today he did! Just this afternoon! Why’d you think I had to steal Harley’s horse? And Denny’s too! I’m doomed to hang if I stay here! My only chance is to run to…”

“Lanny! They know you are unwell. They will forgive you! You’ve been knocked out cold twice in four days. Here,” she said, handing him the bottle of laudanum. “Drink this.”

He took it from her but just looked at it. “Three times. When Tim came here and he beat me, he knocked me out again. With the dose of laudanum I got, back at Mom’s, that makes four attempts on my life. Your brother was here and he… he wants my Alice! He’s been looking at her with lust in his heart. You haven’t been watching him. Since the day he came here he’s been lusting for her. And he thinks that when I’m dead she’ll be his for the taking! And likely she will be, for he’ll play his fiddle and sing his love songs. And she, in her sorrow, will be drawn in by his art. Sadie… you simply cannot know all the wicked motives that can invade the heart of a man – even your own brother. Any man can fall victim to the devil’s temptations.”

“Lanny, enough of this! You’ll not be…” but she was interrupted by Joe and Abe coming in the door, looking surprised to see her there instead of Alice.

Chapter 16

The raving of a madman.

“We ought to try riding up the north-west trail,” said Denny. “It’s the most likely one.” It was just past sunup, the next morning. Harley had just arrived and, while Dorothy was in the kitchen, the men discussed their options.

“But he wouldn’t have taken the most likely route,” said Ozzy, who had just arrived from Bessie’s where he had spent the night.

“We don’t know that,” said Harley. “He might think that we’d think that, and then take it anyways.”

“I’ve never known him to be that smart,” joked Denny.

“We could see if anybody remembers them passing through,” said Ozzy. “We’ll be less weighed down and we might overtake them. And anyways, I don’t see that we’ve any other option. And we’ve got to do something, for appearances sake.”

“But,” said Tim, “he could have gone to the home of some tory, for the night. And he could be kept hidden until it’s safe to travel. And I think he’d have gone a direction that we wouldn’t expect him to go. He might have just gone back home.”

“Here you go, hot and hearty,” said Dorothy to Harley as she came through the door with a tray. “And don’t you get up from that table ‘till you’ve finished it.” He had told her that he had not eaten and she had given him a lecture on the importance of a good breakfast.

“This is too kind of you,” said Harley as he sat down.

“You know, mother,” said Denny. “There are some who just aren’t hungry first thing in the morning.”

“There are some,” she replied without looking up, “who don’t want to eat at all and they end up starving themselves. Look at poor Essie Boles. Skinny as a rail and dead before she’s forty.”

“Ah, but look at Moses Harper,” said Denny. “Skinny as a rail and he’s past eighty.”

“Well,” sighed Dorothy, “some can keep going by stubbornness alone.”

“Well then, mother, you’re sure to live to be a hundred,” he teased, just as the kitchen door opened and Abe stepped in, looking as if he needed to say something. When sure that Dorothy had not noticed, Tim went out to the kitchen.

“She’s over at Master Lanny’s,” said Abe quietly.

“She’s well?”

“Just fine – up and making breakfast. Alice isn’t there though, and that’s odd. Lanny’s not well, a lot of hurtin’ in the head. Drank laudanum, your sister says, and went to sleep.”

“Why didn’t she come back with you?”

“Said she’d get some breakfast into him, and that I was to take the horses back and tell you that she’s well and that Lanny was ashamed of himself for taking the horses and for lying to his mother. I brought all the horses with me so he’s not likely to try taking her anywhere.”

“All’s well then?” asked Denny who had come up behind them.

“Except for Lanny’s head,” said Abe with a smile. “He’s just not right in the head now, is he?”

“And he’s never been,” joked Denny. “Now let’s eat enough so mother will let us go, and then we all should get over there. Abe, you get the horses saddled up.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Lanny’s back home, again,” Denny said to his mother who had just come out. “And he sent the horses back with Abe, here. He says he’s got a sore head, so I was thinking I could take some more applejack and he and I could play some cards. Keep him from getting restless.”

“That’s a good idea,” she said, looking both concerned and angry. And tell them that they’re invited for dinner. If he’s well enough.”

“Maybe I should go in first,” said Ozzy, as Lanny’s house came into sight.

“There’s Joe, at the barn,” said Denny as he reigned in his horse. They got off to lead the horses.

“He’s asleep again,” said Joe, quietly, as he came towards them. “Sadie had to coax him to eat. He woke up with a nightmare a couple of times.”

“Dreaming of Tim,” joked Denny, “coming after him with a frozen horse turd?”

“He didn’t say, but he was up with a yelp. Once during the night and again just now. Can’t sleep and can’t wake up either. Still dreaming when he’s awake. Up on his elbow and talking to himself, like somebody was there in front of him.”

“I’ll go in,” said Ozzy. “That’d be best, likely.” He handed the reins to Joe and started for the door.

“Stay back!” shouted Lanny from the window. It was swung open on hinges and the barrel of a rifle was sticking out.

“What’s wrong, Brother?” asked Ozzy, as he took two steps back.

“You just stay where you are!”

“What are you doing?” whispered Sadie from behind Lanny, making him startle.

“Defending myself!” muttered Lanny without turning his head. “You know what they’re here for.”

“They’re here wondering where I’ve got to.”

“And what else? To arrest me for a kidnapper maybe? And a horse thief and a traitor? They could hang me three times over for that!”

“And do you want them to arrest you for a lunatic instead? And anyway, I sent the horses back to your mother’s and told him it was by your order.”

“Still,” he said after a pause. “They’ll have Harley talked into thinking I’m a traitor. Then they’ll contrive to shoot me while I’m ‘attempting an escape.’ Only I won’t be trying to escape. I’ll just be shot in cold blood by a gang of rebel fanatics.”

“My brother would never allow himself to be part of such wickedness.”

“Your brother came here yesterday and accused me for a spy! And then he beat me!”

“I don’t believe it!”

“I’ve a lump on my head to prove it!”

“He wouldn’t do such a…”

“He did! He’s after my Alice! I’ve seen the devil in his eye! I’ve seen the lust! He intends to have her by any means. And Denny’s no better. He’s a killer and he wants more of Mom’s land – a third of it because a quarter isn’t enough. And do you suppose he’ll stop with me? What’ll happen to Ozzy and Bessie? They face the same threat too, don’t they? And a dire threat it is! He’s a fiend and a scoundrel and he’ll stop at nothing!”

“Lanny, you’ve been knocked unconscious three times in four days.”

“They’ve taken cover,” said Lanny, ignoring her and looking outside.

“Lanny!” called Denny. “We’ve just come for Sadie!”

“You keep your distance!” shouted Lanny.

“Lanny,” said Sadie in a compassionate voice as she put her hand on his shoulder, “just tell them what you’ve told me. Tell them that Bessie had you talked into believing that Tim and Denny meant to kill you and that you now realize that neither you nor she were in your right mind.”

“But what if I’m right about them?” pleaded Lanny. “What then? Tim accused me of spying for the enemy! He did! Just yesterday he did! They could hang me for that alone! They could hang me just for stealing the horses! And you know they will! And here I’m just an honest patriot who means no harm!”

“Lanny!” called Ozzy. “Can we come in and talk?”

“You keep your distance!” he replied, as he took aim.

“Lanny, you’ve nothing to fear!” Ozzy called again. There was a silence, and again he called ”Lanny! Please!”

The men outside saw the rifle barrel pulled back inside. The door opened and Sadie came out, carrying the rifle. “You can come in now.” When they met she handed the rifle to Harley.

“What happened to Lanny?”

“I hit him over the head with the frying pan,” said Sadie with both embarrassment and frustration. “There was nothing else I could do. He wouldn’t listen to reason. He thinks there’s someone trying to kill him. He needs a long rest.”

“He does that, poor boy,” agreed Denny. “That’s the third time he’s been knocked out in five days.”

“The fourth,” corrected Tim.

“So,” Denny asked Harley, “if we find out that Joe, and then Ozzy, brained him the first two times, and he now dies, will we have to hang all four of them, or just Sadie because she finished him off?”

“Let’s go take a look at him,” sighed Harley.

“He’s got himself convinced,” said Sadie to Harley, “that Denny and Tim are plotting to kill him.”

“So he told us, yesterday.”

“But you don’t believe him, do you?” asked Sadie.

“Oh, don’t worry,” said Harley with a smile to her and then Tim. “I’ll make no recommendations on the word of a man whose been knocked unconscious four times in five days.”

“I’d only gone over,” said Tim as they came in through the door, “because Bessie said that...”

“Don’t you believe him!” growled Lanny, who was up on one elbow and looking deathly pale.

“Here you go boy,” said Harley, “let’s get you up. And don’t you go worrying about nothing. You’re just needing a good rest, is all.”

“Don’t worry? Someone’s been trying to kill me!”

“He told me,” said Sadie, “that he’s an honest patriot who’s in fear of a killer and that… that he suspects it to be Tim and Denny.”

“And why shouldn’t I!” insisted Lanny. “Didn’t Tim – my brother’s partner in crime. Didn’t he come here yesterday and attack and beat me – right in front of my own house? And me still weak from all that’s come before! And haven’t I seen him making eyes at my Alice?”

“Lanny, please,” said Alice, who had just come through the open door in time to hear this.

“Please?” he said in an exasperated voice while still leaning on Harley’s arm. “I fear for my life! I’m hunted down and attacked, in front of my own home! You were there!” he said to Alice. “Tell them!”

“Brother,” said Ozzy as he held out his hands, “it is me who put these foolish thoughts into your head, and I must now beg apology. You’ve no reason to think that Tim lusts for Alice or that he means you any harm. Truly you’re in no fit condition to be weighing evidence and assessing guilt.”

“I know what I saw!” implored Lanny. “He’d the devil in his eye, he did! And more than one time, too!”

“Lanny,” said Ozzy with a smile. “Alice is an attractive woman, and all will look upon her with approval. If you’re prone to thinking these sorts of thoughts then you made a mistake by marrying such a beauty as she. Perhaps… perhaps a homely woman would have brought you greater peace of mind.”

“Indeed yes,” said Denny, with a pretense of deep compassion, “there’s many a man whose life has been made a misery by having a beauty for a wife. If only you’d married Hester Warren.” Ozzy and Harley covered their mouths to hide their smirks.

“You may think what you wish,” said Lanny, who was trying to regain his composure, “but the fact remains that Tim came to my house yesterday and made outrageous accusations, and then he attacked and beat me. Beat me, though I’d still not recovered from grievous injuries. And here you’re now trying to defend him. Am I not forced to wonder what must be behind it all. Might it be that you’re trying to curry Tim’s favor for reasons you’ve not spoken? Is it the fair face of his sister that’s got you defending his vile crimes?”

“Brother,” said Ozzy, with indignation, “I can tell you that I have no ulterior motive! Though Sadie Euston may be fair as any young woman who walks the land, there’s no force under heaven that would tempt me to bear false witness!”

“Ha!” sneered Lanny. “Thou hast borne it before, often enough!”

“Brother, thou wilt withdraw that accusation or feel my wrath.”

“I’ll speak as my conscious dictates, Brother,” said Lanny, who now had energy enough to stand on his own “And I’ll name the crimes as I see them, no matter what you or any might say.”

“ ‘Tis the raving of a madman,” hissed Ozzy.

“I’ll teach thee a lesson!” said Lanny as he stepped forward, his fists up.

“Cease this!” ordered Harley, and he moved between them and placed a hand on Lanny’s shoulder to hold him back. “Both of you keep quiet. Lanny, you threatened a committeeman with a weapon, and that gives me authority to seize your rifle until you appear before the committee and give reasons why you should be entrusted with its return. And Tim,” he said turning, “I am ordering you to stay away from this house.”

“Of course,” said Tim.

“This will all pass,” said Alice in an apologetic voice. “With all the trials and tribulations that have been heaped upon us all these past months, we really should not be surprised at what it’s come to. Should we? And to be knocked out cold three times in five days. It would be enough to… to ‘loosen the bricks’ of any man. Wouldn’t it be? And like you said, he only needs time rest and time to recover. We all just need time, don’t we?”

“And I did come here on my own accord,” said Sadie. “I want you all to know that. I wasn’t deceived or…” but she stopped, remembering she had been deceived. “And like Alice says, we only need time and all will settle.”

“And remember,” said Ozzy, “Mom is expecting us all for dinner again today. But,” he said to Alice, “you could just say that Lanny’s in bed with a headache and...”

“No no no,” interrupted Lanny. “Mom will be worried and then she’ll be asking questions. It’s bad enough that the rest of us have suspicious.”

“But Lanny,” said Alice, “the ride over will…”

“That was on a wagon. Were I to ride and keep it to a walk, I’d do just fine. And the fresh air will be a tonic. I’ll be just as well off lazing about there as here. Leave us a couple of horses and we’ll be along in a little while.”

Chapter 17

Men have killed for less

With her ear to the door, Sadie could hear Bessie telling her mother that she was wrong. Dorothy had gone in the pantry for a loaf of sugar and her daughter had followed, slamming the door. Sadie, with a bowl of cream in one hand and a whisk in the other, had stepped calmly over to the door, trying not to attract the attention of Calee and Cassie. They were at work by the fireplace, pretending they did not notice. When Sadie stopped whipping the cream, she heard Bessie say “knocked out,” “Lanny,” “attacked,” and “had to be.” Dorothy had replied with, “Oh, no!” “Come now,” and “Really Bessie!”

Sadie had heard enough and moved away. She was sitting down when Dorothy burst through the door, shaking her head, followed by the frustrated face of her daughter.

They were interrupted by the happy voices of men in the next room, welcoming the newlyweds. Sadie put the whipped cream down and went through to see an apologetic smile on Alice, and suspicion in the eyes of Lanny.

“What do you say to a hand of whist!” said Ozzy to break a nervous silence.

“Your sore head’s up to cards?” Denny asked Lanny.

“Cards will do me good, I’d think. The doing of something’s generally a better remedy for a headache that than the doing of nothing.”

They sat down, Ozzy dealt the cards and he and Denny kept up a steady stream of card-playing chatter. Gradually the tension eased and Lanny said “Ah-ha!” when he took a trick.

The door opened, letting in a gust of snow. “We’re in for a blizzard,” called Harley Murphy as he came through, stamping fresh snow off his shoes. “I don’t know that I should risk going all the way home, though my daughter will be worried sick if I don’t.”

“Oh goodness, stay here!” insisted Dorothy as she got up. “Your daughter will survive but you might not.”

Everybody got up to take a look outside and make a comment on the strength of the wind, the rate of snowfall or the darkness of cloud cover.

“We may,” said Denny in an ominous tone, “be in each other’s company for many hours to come.”

Harley reminded them about the signs that foretold of a hard winter: the coats of animals coming in sooner and thicker, heavier husks on the corn, and pigs gathering sticks. This held the attention of some while others went in and out of the kitchen, offering to help and commenting on the good smells. When Sadie offered to help, she saw Ozzy coming out the pantry door, rolling his eyes. Bessie followed with a look of frustration, almost of anger. When she noticed Sadie it changed to suspicion.

“What’s the matter with her?” Sadie wondered as she watched them go through to the front room. Has she told him about what she said to her mother? Has she decided that it’s time to start telling everybody what they ‘really ought to know?’ Or, Sadie considered as she followed them back to the front room, has she come up with a better theory about who’s been attacking Lanny. Or maybe… maybe it’s about the risk that I pose for the good name of Sweet? She’s maybe thinking like Tim. She’s calling Ozzy a fool in love with a girl who will destroy his future prospects. She’s maybe saying I want him for his money, and can offer little in return beyond music and pretty face.

“You’ll soon be leading us in song I hope, you and your brother?” asked Ozzy after turning away from his sister.

“I’d be happy to,” replied Sadie, but he had already turned back, giving Bessie a – Try an stop me! – look. She responded with a look that said – Just you wait and see! – and continued into the front room.

Ah-ha, thought Sadie with a smile. Bessie’s been scolding him about his affections for me, the girl who has enslaved his heart.

While Sadie was thinking these thoughts, Bessie came back, passed without looking, and went back into the pantry. She took Marg Lewis’s mixture down from the shelf, poured a teaspoonful into a glass of applejack and stirred it until it disappeared. This only risked being deadly for someone who was unusually sensitive to one of its ingredients, or if they were to have the same small dose twice a day for a week or two. This much would, however, be more than enough to generate an upset stomach.

With a stony expression, Bessie walked slowly out to the front room and sat down at the end of the long table, across from Sadie. “I’d so like to hear you and Sadie sing Lovely Nan,” said Bessie with a false smile.

“Indeed yes,” agreed Ozzy, from where he sat close to Sadie. “You won’t be able to sing that one too many times, not in this house. Not if my mother has any say in the matter. Come sing, the both of you,” he said, and gave Tim’s arm a tug.

They got out their instruments and stood by the fireplace. Ozzy shooed away the dogs and pulled their bearskin to the side. They started by playing the melody and then sang it through together. They were coaxed into performing two more songs before Dorothy said that, “their fingers must need a rest.”

When Sadie sat back down, she again noticed suspicion in Bessie’s eyes. She took a sip and immediately recognized the taste of the medicine Calee had given her for pains in her legs. She kept her eyes on Denny as he started into a story. After some thought, she pretended to take another sip while keeping her hand around the glass to hide the level. This would prevent Bessie from knowing how much had gone down.

When the story was to the point where tory boys were throwing rocks as they retreated, Sadie took a sudden look back to the front door, as if something peculiar had caught her eye. Bessie twisted around to look, giving Sadie time enough to pour some of her applejack into Bessie’s half empty glass. Sadie had considered whether someone might notice and ask why she had done it. She could laugh and complain that Bessie had been trying to get her drunk.

But nothing was said. It had not been noticed. The others were laughing along with Denny when Bessie turned back. She took a sip of her drink and noticed the taste. Her eyes met Sadie’s and both knew what the other was thinking.

Sadie then went to the kitchen, took a charred stick from the fireplace and went into the pantry. She laid her handkerchief on a wooden platter and printed “Drink poisoned. Take care!” She folded it, put it in the pocket of her apron, and went back out, where she again offered to help. Dorothy shooed her away, saying their music and song was more than enough.

Denny was into a story about another brawl, one where he and his friends ended up running for their lives from a superior force of tories. Tim was on a stool, holding his violin and listening intently. Sadie went up close to him. Denny’s voice was rising to the climax of the story, and when everyone laughed she dropped the handkerchief into Tim’s lap.

With the story over, Ozzy asked Tim for another tune. Tim stood up and the rag fell to the floor. Sadie was picking up her violin and did not notice. They went to perform the piece from in front of the fireplace. Dorothy, who had just come out, saw the handkerchief, picked it up, and took a seat to listen. As she sang the chorus with the others, she looked at the handkerchief to see if someone’s initials were embroidered into the corner. Instead she saw letters in charcoal. She unfolded it and read.

Sadie saw an expression of horror in Dorothy’s eyes. She was looking around the room, wondering who might have written such an awful thing. Ozzy noticed this and wondered what was wrong with his mother. Dorothy looked back at him, and misinterpreted his expression as an admission of guilt. She was immediately angry and Sadie could tell that she had concluded that Ozzy was the author of the warning.

When the song ended Dorothy got up, went to the kitchen door, turned, gave Ozzy a severe look, and continued through the door. Ozzy obediently got up to follow. Sadie followed them into the kitchen, pretending to be back to look for some way to help. Ozzy and Dorothy were at the other end of the large room, whispering to each other. Sadie kept her eyes on the cluttered table. Dorothy went into the pantry and Ozzy followed. Sadie picked up a mortar and pestle that was filled with dried thyme that looked like it could use more grinding. As she worked it, she casually walked over to the pantry door.

Ozzy’s voice was loud and clear as he told his mother about how Denny’s cruel jokes were getting out of hand. This was followed by words from Dorothy that sounded like a rejection of Ozzy’s theory. Afraid they might come back out, Sadie went back to the table to show the thyme to Calee.

“Bless you, honey,” said Calee and she took it to the fireplace and dumped it into a sieve to sift all but the stems into the soup. Sadie returned to the front room where Denny had them laughing again. She picked up her own glass and looked at where Tim had left his. She considered giving his a taste to see if it was poisoned as well. She hesitated, fearing someone would notice. Harley was sitting with his back to the wall and saying little. Instead Sadie went to the far side of the table, to where she could sit next to Alice.

The kitchen door opened and Dorothy came through, her mouth set in a frown. Ozzy followed with an exasperated face, as if she had been refusing to listen to reason.

Lanny, who was sitting across the table from Alice, turned and saw the look on Sadie. He then noticed the others – worry on his sister, anger on his mother, and frustration on Ozzy. Lanny’s eyes grew wide and the color drained from his face.

A sugarloaf was form you bought sugar in, before crystal and lump sugar came onto the market in the late 1800s. They were rounded on top, flat on the bottom, and from five to thirty inches tall. Sugar was made from the syrup of sugarcane, a reed that grows to thirty feet. It was boiled, filtered and when poured in an earthenware mold to cool and crystalize, dark fluid drained out a hole in the bottom. Small loaves could be whitened by pouring on warm sugar water, and letting it gradually seep through.

Chapter 18

Surely you asked for it.

They were singing Whiskey in the Jar while Tim played his fiddle and Denny and Ozzy pounded a drumbeat on the floorboards with sticks of firewood. Looking irritated by the noise, Lanny got up from his seat, paced the floor, and then went for his coat.

“Where are you off to?” asked Dorothy. She had just looked through the kitchen door to see if everyone was getting along.”

“Oh I… I was just thinking I’d go check on the horses.”

“No no no, there’s no need,” she insisted, coming to take hold of his arm. “The girls will soon be out to milk the cows. You just sit here and rest. You’re pale as sheet, you poor boy.”

“Oh, but mother,” he begged through a false smile, “we can’t demand everything from the poor girls. I’ll just…”

“No you don’t! This is your time of rest and revelry. How often does a man get married?”

“But just a little fresh air…”

“Back to your seat!” she laughed as she led him to his chair with a firm grasp on his arm. “Rest is the best remedy. You should be grateful I’ve not put you to bed.”

Sadie could see beads of sweat on Lanny’s brow, and she knew that his mother would not be able to see them without a pair of magnifying glasses on her nose. Dorothy called on Tim for another tune and she led them all in the singing of Derry Down. Lanny grudgingly sat and sang a few words, but then stopped. He looked back and forth, wiped his brow, picked up Bessie’s glass and, thinking it was his own, he gulped it down like water. For a moment, he seemed startled by the kick of the alcohol but this passed, showing that he had noticed nothing odd about the flavor.

Sadie looked to Bessie, who stared back with equal intensity. Both realized what Lanny had just done. Sadie glanced over to Harley who was quietly singing along in his gravel-throated base. She knew that she could not tell Lanny what had happened, because her knowing of the poisonous content of the glass could be misinterpreted by Harley as a confession. He would have himself a culprit, along with the praise and blessing of the whole county. And, thought Sadie, Bessie could deny knowing anything about it. And then Bessie could remind Harley of what might have been an attempted poisoning of Lanny, four days before. As the song was coming to its end, Sadie looked back to Bessie’s face and realized that she likely shared the same fears.

A false smile quickly appeared and disappeared on Bessie’s mouth and she got up to go to the kitchen. Denny was asking Tim for a tune whose name he couldn’t recall, and his voice was so loud that Sadie was able to get up and follow Bessie without attracting attention.

In the kitchen, Sadie went to stir soup that bubbled over the fire. Bessie took the spoon to taste it. The others were busy, Dorothy mixing a sauce, Calee slicing parsnips and Cassie chopping chestnuts.

“Did you notice an odd taste in the applejack?” Bessie asked Sadie as she lifted a spoonful to her mouth. “I’m thinking that some of Marg Lewis’s mixture has gotten into it. Did you notice the taste of it in yours?”

“I did,” Sadie whispered, though she knew that Bessie was lying when she implied that she was guiltless. “But surely it wouldn’t be enough to pose any problem. It must have got in the decanter.”

“No it couldn’t have,” said Bessie. “Others would surely have noticed. They’d have to, wouldn’t they? How could they not?”

“Well, except for Lanny. You saw the way he gulped down yours. But he’s a lot on his mind, doesn’t he? And now he’s going to have an upset stomach to contemplate. Won’t he?”

“Of course he will, the blockhead! Though… it’ll likely do him good in the long run, won’t it? A good dose of strong medicine?”

“But who would have done such a thing?”

“Oh, it’s surely one of Denny’s stupid pranks – a cruel joke on the newlyweds. He’s just too stupid to realize how cruel it is. He’s always been like that, tormenting people and thinking both he and his victim are having the best of times. And… sometimes it’s true though, when it’s one of his equally blockheaded friends. They’d do the most awful thing to each other and think it a great joke. But for someone less crude it’s nothing but cruelty. And this poisoning is likely just another of the same sort of prank. And he could have done it while you and Tim were singing, couldn’t he? He could have done it and thought it the greatest prank ever!”

“But how…” started Sadie.

“Oh, I suppose you’re right, he couldn’t have. How could he have known that Lanny would drink either yours or mine? Unless he was thinking they were Lanny and Alice’s glasses. But how would he manage to get to them both? Though… we could have all been looking the other direction, couldn’t we, looking at you and Tim. And if he’d had the medicine on him and he’d seized the opportunity. But that’s too much to accomplish though, isn’t it? Not for someone as stupid as him.”

Well…” said Sadie, who was wondering whether to just call her a liar and a murderer and have it over with. “I… I’ve been wondering,” she said almost silently, directly into Bessie’s ear. “I’ve been wondering about Denny since the start of it. I’d only come along with Tim to… protect him from a bad influence.”

“I can hardly blame you for that, you poor girl! He’s been a bully and a prankster since he could get up and walk, and war has just made him the worse. And this sort of a prank is just too much, what with all that’s been happening to poor Lanny. In his tender condition it could be the death of him!”

“But what can we do? What’ll Harley think if we were to say anything about it to him? We’re all under suspicion, aren’t we? And after all of Ozzie’s talk about somebody trying to kill Lanny, then he could assume that you were behind it all and that you’d recruited me to assist in his murder. And what would Denny do then? He’d seize the opportunity and give Harley false testimony that could be used to assure both of our convictions. And by doing it he’d eliminate you as an heir. Two down an just one to go! And it wouldn’t just be your losing what’s yours! You and me both could swing from a rope! And what would Denny care?”

“Indeed you are likely right there,” said Bessie with hatred in her voice. “Without any sort of solid proof we’d only draw all suspicion upon ourselves.”

“What’s all this?” said Ozzie as he burst through the door. “How many cooks do we need to spoil the pot?”

“Indeed, yes!” laughed Calee. “That’s what I’ve been saying too! Here it’s a special time for the family and half of it is in here helping the two of us, who could be doing it all ourselves.”

“Come now,” ordered Ozzy. “It’s time to get a game of cards going, and you’re all needed. And that includes you, my dear mother. We’ll all get to eat soon enough.”

“Oh but there’s so much left to go,” protested Dorothy.

“Ah, the indispensable Dorothy Sweet,” joked Ozzy. “Were you to die, we’d all have to kill ourselves because we couldn’t manage without you. But think of this, you’re just as necessary out there too, for how can poor Lanny be calm if we’re not all enjoying ourselves. And how can we all enjoy ourselves if we know you’re in here slaving over a hot fire. Why, you’d be out chopping wood if we let you get away with it. Come, now,” he said as he herded them through the door. “Let’s get a couple of games going. And you too, Sadie my dear.”

When dinner was served, only Denny, Tim, Alice and the slaves had any appetite. The two jesters, Ozzy and Denny, sat side by side across from the newlyweds. Alice kept encouraging them, alternating between laughter and pretending to take offence.

“And then he turned around and saw us!” shouted Denny to finish a story about a joke he had played on Lanny, years before. Tim and Alice burst out laughing and did not notice that others were only managing polite smiles and brief chuckles. Lanny forced a smile and a “Ha, ha!” and gave the happy few the impression that his only concern was Denny’s retelling of the story.

The rest at the table could see that Lanny was suffering from something more severe than embarrassment over a prank. Sadie and Bessie had seen him eyeing the food with suspicion, and this suggested that he had only started to suffer stomach upset since it had been served. With Denny’s story over, Lanny looked away from the happy faces and noticed the expression on his mother. He then glanced around the table, seeing stark looks on others. “What is this?” he blurted out.

Sadie and Bessie look away, as if they had been caught at something. Their eyes then turned back on him, to see his face grow white with fear.

“ ‘Twas your just desserts,” grinned Denny, who thought Lanny was still thinking to his humorous story.

“Just desserts?” asked Lanny, who had already forgotten about the story. “Just desserts for… for what?”

“But surely you asked for it,” Alice teased Lanny, before she turned to look at him. When she did, she saw the panic in his eyes. “What is it now!” she gasped.

Lanny pushed his chair back to get up. Everyone was staring at him. His fear turned to panic. “No, you’ll not!” he growled. He then bolted for the door and charged out into the storm.

“Oh Lord!” gasped Dorothy. “What’s he doing?”

“The blockhead!” said Alice, who looked deeply embarrassed.

“We better go get him,” said Ozzy. The men got up but wasted time pulling on coats and mitts. Others helped, lighting candles in windproof lanterns. When ready, Denny opened the door. Snow blew in, and all they could see was a black void.

Chapter 19

Who would trust any of them?

After the men had gone out into the storm, Dorothy went to Alice, took her hand, and assured her that all would soon be well and that such behavior was not unusual for a man who had been knocked unconscious twice in four days.

“Well, four times…” started Alice but she caught herself. “Ah… four days… yes. Only four. And he’d been seeming so much better today, poor fellow. But perhaps he just needs to lie down for a while, or… or have a drink of… something.”

“Yes, and maybe you should have yourself a nice cup of flip, too,” said Dorothy as she led her to a chair. “This all must have you worried sick.”

While this was happening, Bessie tugging at Sadie’s sleeve and indicating with her eyes that she wanted her to follow her into the kitchen. The four slaves, who were together by the hearth, greeted them with curious looks before turning away. Bessie ignored them and led Sadie into the pantry. Bessie kept her back to Sadie for a moment, then turned around and, on the brink of tears said, “We can’t let it go on like this!”

“But what can we do?” asked Sadie as she backed up, feeling intimidated by Bessie’s size and strength.

“Oh, I don’t know!” Bessie sobbed, her hands to her eyes. “It’s surely that brute Denny who’s behind it all! We’ve got to somehow get him arrested and hanged before he tries again! He’s vile and odious! A beast! A true beast!”

“But… is he really? He seems so… good humored.”

“It’s a mask! It’s a lie! He’s always been like this! You don’t know him! You said yourself that you dreaded his influence on your Tim.”

“I do,” said Sadie, “but I’ve...”

“And he and Lanny despise each other! And Denny’s got nothing to gain by allowing Lanny to live. And surely he thinks the same of me and Ozzy, too!”

“But surely…”

“Rumors have been going around that say that Lanny is in the pay of the enemy, so Denny could justify killing him as a patriotic duty. And with one less heir, Denny’s share goes from a quarter to a third. Men have killed for less – for far less!”

“You must fear for your own life too, then.”

“Well, I doubt he’ll kill more than one of us. Not right away. If a second died under doubtful circumstances then people would surely grow suspicious. You can be convicted by more than a court of law. “

“No,” said Sadie, shaking her head. “I suppose...”

“But really, he likely doesn’t want to actually kill Lanny. It’d be far better for him to just get Lanny so scared that he ran off to Canada. Right from the start of it Denny and his friends were helping chase off the unrepentant tories. They’d taunt the boys and beat them if they tried to stand up for themselves. And worse, they’d menace the girls with crude flattery. He’d say they were just doing the county’s dirty work, but it wasn’t dirty for them. It was their wanton pleasure. We’re always told that the committees do nothing more than put out a warrant for the arrest of the head of the house, as if that’s all it takes to persuade him to pack up his family and run off forever to the wilds of Canada. But it only makes sense that it’d take far more than that to force a well-established man to give up all and begin anew with next to nothing. That’s just the last straw in a game of intimidation and humiliation. And the likes of Denny will think it all in good sport. He and his gang of brutes, they’d tease the boys they’d fight them like fiends. And even if the tory boys got the better of a brawl, they still go home with cuts and bruises, and that’d terrorize the women because they think they’d be next. Denny… he’s truly diabolical – really he is! And he won’t stop with just doing the committee’s dirty work. It’ll never end! He’s a monster!”

“Well… but it’s a job that needed doing though, chasing off the tories. They posed a dire threat to our freedoms. And still do!”

“Yes, yes, but… but now Denny has gone after an honest patriot. No brother of mine would be a traitor to his country.”

“Oh… no of course not,” said Sadie, who wondered whether Bessie thoughts were so confused that she had actually forgotten what she had said just minutes before.

“At least I hope not. So we really do need to stop him, don’t we? We have to go tell Harley that we smelled Marg Lewis’s concoction in our glasses. And likely they’re still on the table and not yet washed. He could smell them himself. And he’d be more likely to smell it after we’ve both said that we could smell it ourselves. And then we could say that we saw Denny hovering about while you two were singing.”

“No! We can’t do that!” said Sadie as she grabbed hold of Bessie’s arm. “Harley might have been watching the whole time. He was back there singing away, but he could have been watching everything. He always looks like he’s on the watch, doesn’t he? And he might even have seen someone else putting it in. And if Harley caught us lying then he’d likely start thinking us to be part of a conspiracy of our own. And then how could we ever prove our innocence? And as the lawyers say, you can’t prove a negative.”

“Yes yes, of course, you’re right,” groaned Bessie, seeming to be in physical pain. “Of course, we shouldn’t. But Denny truly deserves to be jailed. Both of them do! Lanny’s probably a spy, just like they’re saying he is. And Denny’s so vile and cruel. Sure, he did us a service by killing so many at Oriskany but… but they’re worse than thieves! Denny and Lanny both! They truly deserve to be hanged!”

“Well, perhaps not...”

“Oh Sadie, truly they do! You don’t know them like I do!”

“No, of course not.”

“And likely both of them spy for the enemy, for both would do anything for money.”

“But how can you know that?”

“They’re both always asking this and that about the Army and the Militia and the Committee – things that just aren’t their business to know. And they’re always off riding about, visiting here or doing business there. Always trading horses and cattle. Denny had three-dozen horses here, until he sold them all to the Army for far more than they were worth. And then he bought livestock from half starved refugees and drove them out east to sell. Last summer he and his friends did it, and they went all the way to Connecticut. No one else wanted to do it, for it’s so dangerous, these days. But him and his friends are vile as any band of robbers so they drove a big herd out and they made an absurd profit. You’ve got to be a killer and a madman to be out driving cattle these days. And don’t think he won’t be taking your Tim along too, after he’s finished filling him full of ideas about all the money that’s to be made. And likely he’s been out and scalping the poor Indians on the side, for the profit and for the sport of it, too. They paid for scalps in the last war, you know. It was out in the open and official. And surely they’re doing it now, though in secret. They have to be dong it! There’s always been a market for scalps!”

“Oh, but surely they’d not…”

“It’s been so wretched,” Bessie moaned, turning away. “You don’t know what it’s been like since Stephen’s been gone. We’d been married not even a year – only twenty-three, I am, and already a widow! There’s been such awfulness – all the arguing and the hatred – old friends who now won’t speak to each other. It’s been such misery! Truly if it weren’t for Ozzie I don’t know what would have happened to me! He’s been so strong through it all. He’s always been able to help me though.”

“I could tell he’s the caring sort,” said Sadie in a soft voice with her hand on Bessie’s shoulder.

“And then when father died, it was… more that I could bear. My sorrow knew no depth. Ozzy tried to help but… I’m such a burden for him.”

“They’re back,” said Sadie. She could hear snow being stamped off of shoes. “Maybe they’ve found Lanny.”

“There’s tracks,” Ozzy said when back, “but the snow’s been drifting in and they could be anybody’s.”

“And,” sighed Denny, “he could have backed away brushing in his tracks with his hands. With the drifting, it all would have been erased.”

“Well,” said Ozzy with a shrug, “I doubt he was cool-headed enough to have thought of that.”

“Maybe not.”

“You’re sure he’s not in the barn?” asked Dorothy.

“Calee and Cassie say no,” said Ozzy. “But they were busy milking and he could have got in without being seen or heard. If he thinks he needs to hide from someone then he could have just gone up into the loft and covered himself with hay. He could keep himself warm for a long time, couldn’t he? And we can’t poke around with forks to find him.”

“We could give it a try,” joked Denny.

“But that is likely where he is,” continued Ozzy, “because being out and lost in the storm… he’d surely die. He must know...”

“Oh, this is all so foolish!” snapped Alice. “All this talk about somebody trying to kill him! It’s…” But then she stopped, remembering that Ozzy’s theory was being kept from Dorothy. All eyes turned to Dorothy, expecting to see shock on her face.

“Indeed, ‘tis likely so,” Dorothy agreed in a calm voice. “But if it weren’t that, then something else might have driven him to this. I remember when Isaac Allen fell off a ladder and lay unconscious ‘till the next morning. They say he was months in getting over it. He was awkward and he had headaches, and so forgetful. He couldn’t do things that ought to have been easy. It just takes time and we’ve got to be patient.”

“And he’s likely in the hayloft, like you say,” said Alice after a pause. “I should go call to him. Tell him his mind’s been playing tricks on him and that no one is judging him for his actions.”

“That’s an excellent idea,” said Dorothy with a warm smile. “Go there now and talk to him.”

“Indeed,” said Denny with a smirk in his eyes, “but it’s so ironic, to have to do this after he’s tried so many times to talk you into the hayloft.”

“Well, he’s finally succeeded,” laughed Alice, “and all he had to do was to marry me and get the sense knocked out of him.”

“Is that how you do it!” gasped Denny with his hand to his cheek, making everyone laugh.

With another blast of wind, Calee and Cassie came through the door. Calee was asked to walk Alice back and to wait there. Once Alice had been helped into her cloak she was wished the best of luck and the two of them went back out into the night.

“A rubber of whist will keep our minds occupied,” said Ozzie. “Otherwise we’ll worry ourselves into a state of nerves and then we’ll all be off running about in the blizzard.”

Sadie asked Tim for some help with a piece of music she wanted to play later on. This gave her an excuse to take him to the pantry and explain the events that had led up to Lanny’s outburst, and about Dorothy finding out about Ozzy’s theories.

“So, Bessie’s the one then,” said Tim with a conclusive nod, when Sadie was finished. “She hates him enough, and we now know she’s willing to put poison into drinks. And she surely has Ozzy’s help because…”

“No, we don’t know any of that! She didn’t confess anything. I only know that she put a drop of it into mine. I can’t say anything more with a certainty and neither can you. And if she shares your suspicions about Ozzy’s ‘desires’ for me, then she must believe me capable of seducing him into an inferior marriage. That’d mean she’s reason to want to lie to me to scare me away. And with all that’s been happening she’s crazed enough to do anything.”

“Well… well we know, at least, that she hates Lanny.”

“We knew that already,” huffed Sadie.

“And she did lie to me to get me to go have a talk with him.”

“We don’t know that. She might have imagined Calee to have said more than she actually did say. She’s crazy enough to think anything.”

“Should we ask Calee what she thinks?” suggested Tim.

“Calee won’t tell us anything she wouldn’t want repeated. She’s too smart.”

“Well… then who do we believe?”

“I think we now know for sure that Bessie’s an honest patriot. And she wouldn’t be any good as a spy anyways, would she? She could fall to pieces at any moment. Who would want to trust her? Who should trust any of them? They’re all grieving for their father and for friends. Don’t they always say that sorrow can drive either man or woman to think bizarre thoughts and to do awful things. Didn’t the preacher tell us that? Remember he was saying that, back in the days of witch hangings in Europe, the accusations against a neighbor would so often start after a fever had gone around and a few had died and left behind family who were grieving.”

“Well,” said Tim with a shrug, “I suppose Harley must realize that too.”

“He must.”

“You know… if Bessie’s condition is so pathetic, then that would make it easy for Ozzy to lead her along. Wouldn’t it? He could make her the faithful servant he needs to complete his plots and schemes.”

“Just like Denny has made poor stupid Tim Euston his partner in crime?”

“No!”

“You’ve had it in for Ozzy ever since you first looked at him!” said Sadie as she turned away. “All he did was to talk to me nicely and that got you thinking he’s out to ruin me. Maybe you should spend less time watching over me and more time watching out for yourself. Bessie’s had plenty to say about Denny too.”

“What?”

“About his cruelty!” said Sadie, as if it were obvious.

“Cruelty? For brawling with tory boys who were as game for a fight as he was?”

“Well… that, and…”

“And his teasing?” asked Tim. “What boy doesn’t tease his sister?”

“You know, Tim Euston, you’re still the most convenient person to blame. If all else fails, then Harley can still accuse you and hang you and have it over with.”

Tim said nothing and in the silence they could hear Alice’s voice asking what game they were playing. Ozzy then said something and Lanny asked “Whose winning?” Tim and Sadie went out to see what he looked like.

“Well,” said Dorothy with exaggerated good-humor. “Let’s get together and have ourselves a little sing-along. Tim and Sadie, are your fingers well rested?”

“They are,” said Tim with a smile as he went for his violin. But when he raised it to his chin he saw the expression on Harley’s face. It no longer held the look of observation and patience that they had been seeing for days. He now returned Tim’s look with half smile. What’s that about? wondered Tim. Is Sadie right? He’s looking like he’s made himself a decision. Maybe he really is thinking me and Denny to be the ones. Or maybe just me! And maybe he’ll just wait until… until another fit of anger provokes the words that will give him reason enough to arrest me and… and solve all of his problems.

In ___, during the French and Indian War, the northern theatre of the Seven Years War, ___ paid ___ for the scalps of Native Americans. A trade in both white and Indian scalps had existed for decades. The first mention of scalps taken by native Indians was in Samuel de Champlain’s account of his voyage in 1603 where he saw warriors in the camp of Algonquin Sagamore Anadabijou brandishing scalps and tomahawks while dancing. During the War for Independence, rumors told of covert payments for scalps by British or American authorities but historians have found no hard evidence. It is unlikely that many thought that paying for scalps would provide a cost effective military benefit. All would have known that an Indian scalp would look the same, whether from an enemy Indian, an allied Indian, or from a devout convert to Christianity who had peacefully taken up farming in a white community.

Chapter 20

To care for our neighbor

“Joe can do that!” insisted Dorothy, next morning after she came outside with some food bundled in cloth for the newlyweds to take home.

“It gives me something to do,” said Denny. Dorothy had an elegant little chaise that seated two. The heavy snowfall meant the wheels could come off and the runners go on, likely for the rest of the winter. Sledding would be smoother and easier for Lanny on his trip home.

“And I should help so I can learn how to do it,” said Tim. He actually had done it before, when he worked at a blacksmith’s shop. It was in the town he had lived in until last spring. Tim had been apprenticed to a carpenter but his master would often loan him out to the blacksmith in exchange for the use of a horse and wagon.

The sun was still trying to break through clouds when Lanny and Alice climbed on. The big horse was saddled so Calee could come along and then bring the team back. Everyone came out to wish them well and to watch them slowly cut a path through the fresh snow, down the road and up the far hill. The main road that ran right past the farm was a sixty-six foot wide right of way between a pasture and woodland, only sometimes marked off by hedges, uncleared woodland and the occasional fence. The two beaten paths, one for each wheel of a wagon, were hidden under the snow. Calee drove the team right down the center to break a nice-looking trail. There were often frozen ruts beneath and occasionally a runner would sink deep enough to hit one, throwing the occupants from one side to the other and forcing Lanny to mutter curses.

“Well, he slept, at least,” said Dorothy as she turned to go back into the house. She had given the newlyweds her bed and slept in the half attic with the other females. Lanny had snored and talked in his sleep, but no one could make sense out of the sudden shouts and muttered phrases. Alice had given up trying to sleep with him and joined the others upstairs. In the morning she lied to him, saying she had slept warmly by his side.

After an hour, Calee was back on the horse, reporting that Lanny was pale, in pain, and dosing himself with hard cider and whiskey. The refugees were still away and only Abe was there to help.

Dorothy asked Denny to ride over with more cheese, cream and cider, and to claim that he was just passing by on an errand for Harley. When back, he said that Lanny had been in front of the fire, drinking and grumbling about the quality of the citizen volunteers who ruled the county. Dorothy just shook her head. After a while, she asked Ozzy to go over with more food and another excuse for being nearby.

. . . . .

“Spying on us, are you?” Lanny asked Ozzy.

“No no, Brother. Mom’s just worried you’ll not have enough to keep yourselves fed, were snow to hit again.”

“We’ve enough to feed a platoon.”

“But you’ll need that and more when your refugees get back.”

“And with them young Willy Williams,” said Lanny with a wink to Alice. She gave him a sullen look and turned away.

“Willy knows his business,” said Ozzy. “He told me he spent a while working for the Johnsons. They may be tories, but they know their horses.”

“He’ll train them to toast the King’s health, maybe,” chuckled Lanny. “He’ll have them praying to the bishop of horses.”

“But the committee’s not worried about Willy,” said Ozzy. “And everybody knows he ran about with Denny and the rest of them? Good patriots all?”

“Denny? Doesn’t he offer himself to the highest bidder? He’d convert to toryism for thirty pieces of silver.”

“Ha! Well… perhaps he would. Though, for sure he’d be selling intelligence back to Harley at the same time. Wouldn’t you think?”

“But really,” said Lanny, turning serious, “what are we all going to do if our ‘representatives’ down in Philadelphia decide to cave in and we’re back to the old order and a royal governor?”

“Well… but even if they did, things would never go back to the way they were. No intolerable taxes, surely. They wouldn’t make that mistake again. They’ve learned their lesson and they’ll offer us back our old freedoms. They’d want us to happily pay our taxes, so they’d meet us halfway. They’d just demand that we fund our own standing army so we wouldn’t have to go crying to them every time we’re threatened.”

“Maybe. You think they’d dare hang Washington?”

“Well… I don’t know,” said Ozzy. “Hang someone who’s less beloved of the common man, maybe. A couple of his generals. Charles Lee would be a good one. They’d spare Washington and then later they’d bribe his cook to poison him.”

“Poison?” muttered Lanny as he looked away, as if it could no longer be a joking matter.

“Or have somebody shoot him, and then beat a false confession out of a lunatic so there’d be somebody to hang.”

“Perhaps,” said Lanny, sounding as if he was no longer listening.

. . . . .

“He’s in a sour mood,” said Ozzy when he got back to his mother, “but likely he just got a good shaking on the ride back. Once he’s had a rest he’ll cheer up.”

“I hope so,” sighed Dorothy, shaking her head.

“For sure he’ll need to be kept calm and quiet if he hopes to recover any time soon. Perhaps any more feasting should be done at his place.”

“And Denny will have to stop always trying to get a rise out of him,” said Bessie. “And how will he ever manage that?”

“We might have to bind and gag him,” joked Ozzy.

“Yea, I fear you might have to,” said Denny who was at work at the table, repairing a harness strap with a large needle, a black linen thread and a small pair of pliers.

“And we’ll especially have to protect poor Lanny from anything that would unnecessarily excite him,” said Bessie, sounding like she was thinking about something.

. . . . .

“Ozzy says he’s beaten her again,” said a tearful Bessie to Denny, later when he went out to the barn to listen to Tim and Sadie. Bessie had followed him out and, once inside the barn, had taken him aside. Falling for Bessie’s plan, Tim snuck up closer to listen while Sadie kept playing.

“Beaten her?” asked Denny.

“He suspects that he has,” replied Bessie in a whisper loud enough for Tim to hear clearly. Sadie played a doleful lament that heightened Tim’s emotion.

“He said,” continued Bessie, “that Alice had gone out to the chicken coop and that Lanny had said he was going feed the dogs. When she was back with the eggs the side of her face was all red and she was fighting back tears.”

“Maybe she hit him first.”

“She’s half his size, you stupid blockheaded dullard! What is likely is that Lanny’s behaving just as I suspected he would.”

“Sister, I shudder to think of what you’ll suspect of me.”

“You think this is amusing?”

“Not if it’s true but…”

“And how many times will it have to happen before he’s stopped? How many times before someone at least goes over and talks to him?”

“Well… I’d be the last one who could persuade Lanny to be less of an ass than he was born to be.”

“Well who then?”

“Why not Mom?”

“Oh come off it! Tell her everything, in the condition she’s in? Hasn’t she suffered enough?”

“Bessie, you told her yourself about Ozzy’s bold and bizarre theories of attempted murder. And did she fall apart then?”

“What about Tim? Lanny thinks he saved his life.”

“Tim is our guest. We can’t ask him to interfere in a family affair. Besides, Harley’s ordered him to stay away.”

“Just because things didn’t go well last time, doesn’t mean that they’ll go the same way again. Lanny respects Tim for his book learning and his knowledge of military things. You’ve told him yourself about how Tim has studied the officer’s manuals on his own until some thought him deserving of a commission. Wasn’t he highly impressed? And doesn’t he owe Tim a debt for saving him from whoever might have brained him in the woods.? Lanny just got wound up last time and, since then, he’s had time to think it over.

“But Lanny thinks that…”

“Has the whole house moved out to the barn?” called Dorothy as she came in the door.

“We can’t wait for their next performance,” said Denny with a smile. “It sounds like they’re working on The Trappan’d Maiden.”

“We’ve just started,” said Tim, after he had crept back and taken hold of his violin.

. . . . .

“I need a rest,” said Tim to Sadie later. The others had left and they had played the piece through several times. He had not told her what he overheard but she could guess from the look on his face and the mistakes he kept making.

“Tim, it is not your place to interfere.”

“Interfere with what?” he asked, innocently.

“Lanny Sweet and his lawfully wedded wife.”

“Well… well doesn’t somebody have to interfere?”

“What’s he done to her now?” asked Sadie as she put her violin into its case.

“What’s who done?”

“Tim!”

“Ozzy said… he told Bessie that he’s beaten her again. She’s two bruises on her brow!”

“You heard him tell her that?”

“Ozzy told her and she told Denny.”

“And Alice told Ozzy? I doubt it. It’s not something a woman would talk about. It’s too embarrassing. And even if he has beaten her, wouldn’t you think Lanny’d have sense enough to strike her where it wouldn’t leave so obvious a mark? Do you think he’s hoping for a public whipping? He might be a brute but he isn’t a fool.”

“He’s been knocked unconscious four times in five days and he was bounced about on the ride home.”

“Well, even if he has… it’s still a family affair and none of your concern.”

“Well! Whose is it then? Haven’t we been taught to care for our neighbor? Aren’t we to follow the example of the Good Samaritan?”

“Well,” sighed Sadie as she turned to leave, “perhaps the parable was meant to teach you that you should wait ‘till you find her at the side of a road.”

Tim realized that Sadie was right. But after pacing up and down a few times he changed his mind, saddled a horse and led it out the door on the far side of the barn, only mounting it when well out of earshot. A fresh horse on frozen ground could take him the six miles in no time. We’ll have a friendly little chat, Tim told himself, and I’ll be back before dark. The horse would benefit from the fresh air. We both would. And likely just a few words will be enough to set Lanny on the right.

. . . . .

Half way there, Tim dismounted to walk the horse, and to give him time to collect his thoughts and to plan out his words for the best effect. When he saw the house the horse stopped, sensing his worry. He looked back. Dark clouds were coming in from the northwest, bringing with them a cold wind. A bad omen, he thought. Then, in the gloom of drifting snow, he noticed a rider. The distant silhouette came into view, stopped and then turned back. Is it Denny? he asked himself, or maybe Ozzy? And why would he turn back?

There were no sounds of barking dogs. Maybe the refugees took the dogs too? Tim wondered as he dismounted and walked the horse to the chicken coop where he could tie it up. Of course, they could use them. Their horses would have to be trained to not be frightened by dogs, and especially the big ones that Lanny breeds. They’d not be much use as warhorses if a dog could chase them off.

Once up to the door he hesitated, wondering what kind of a fool would deliberately try to antagonize a madman. He paced back and forth and then knocked. With an effort to sound happy, he called “Hi Ho, Lanny!”

“Tim?” asked Alice from a small window that opened on squeaky wooden hinges. “What brings you here?”

“Is… is Lanny in?” he asked.

“No, it’s just me,” she said when she opened the door. He’s left me here alone,” she said in a voice thick with emotion. The light was dim but Tim could see a purple bruise on her cheek.

The thirty pieces of silver Lanny referred to was money paid to the disciple Judas, to betray Jesus to authorities. The good Samaritan that Tim mentioned was in one of the parables that Jesus used to teach moral lessons. “A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, who stripped him of his clothing, wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a certain priest came down that road. And when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. Likewise a Levite, when he arrived at the place, came and looked, and passed by on the other side. But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was. And when he saw him, he had compassion. So he went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine; and he set him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. On the next day, when he departed, he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said to him, ‘Take care of him; and whatever more you spend, when I come again, I will repay you.’ So which of these three do you think was neighbor to him who fell among the thieves?”

Chapter 21

Am I a complete fool?

“Ah… I was… I was just delivering a letter for Denny,” said Tim as he squinted to get a better look at Alice’s bruise. “It’s something to do with… committee business I suppose or… or horse trading, maybe. Who knows? He was going to take it himself but me and Sadie are always wanting to help and… it’s a nice day to go for a ride, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“All the new snow and… well… when I’m in the Army, next spring... Well, I’ve got to build on my reputation as a patriot, don’t I? A man wants to be good for more than digging trenches, doesn’t he?”

“He does.”

“Or the digging of ditches will be about all he’ll do, won’t it?”

“It will,” she said with a forced smile.

“Your sleigh ride over must have been lovely with… with all the new snow.”

“It might have been, if poor Lanny hadn’t been so miserable – cursing the ruts and cursing poor Calee. I was wondering if I suffered more than him, just having to listen to him.” Alice laughed as she said this, helping to confirm Tim’s suspicions.

A new wife, Tim told himself, ought to be full of compassion and patience for a gravely injured husband, She had to be feeling deep resentment. Bessie must be right. “You’ve Dorothy’s applejack though,” he said with a shrug. “For him, I mean. To help ease his pain.” She had stepped forward and in the sunlight he could see the purple spot in detail. It seemed more like she had been hit with a stick, and not a knuckle. “I… I just thought…” Tim stammered, trying to hide the anger that welled up in him at the thought of Lanny striking her with a stick. “I just thought I’d drop in and… and wish Lanny a good-day, and to see how he fared.”

“Oh, that is so kind of you,” she said, stepping closer and taking hold of his wrist. Tim’s hands had been up at his chest, gripped together. With her so close he could smell alcohol on her breath. It reminded him of a battered wife he had known of years before, who had tried to drown her sorrows in rum. Many assumed it was her drunkenness that had earned her the beatings, and she was shunned by other women.

“But Lanny’s not here,” continued Alice. “A neighbor came over saying that one of his boys had run off, after he’d given him a caning for defying his word. He’d come for Lanny and his dogs to hunt him down. I told Lanny he needed his rest but he insisted on going.”

“The thrill of the hunt, I suppose,” said Tim. “Just the tonic he needed.”

“But he’ll pay for it later!” she huffed, letting go of Tim’s wrist and turning away. “He needs his rest. He’s been acting like an absolute swine. Come in, would you, so I can close the door.”

“No no, I really ought to be going.”

“But I’m all alone here! He even took Abe and we’ve not got a hired girl yet. He says we’ll have one soon but... It’ll be strange having a girl when for so long I’ve been the hired girl for others. I was only eight when Mom first loaned me out. Now come in and stay, at least ‘till they comes back. It won’t be long.”

“But it’s getting late.”

“No no, it’s just the clouds! But you can tell it’s clearing and the moon will soon be up and bright. And surely he won’t be long. Who runs off this time of year? And he’ll be in good sprits and wanting to brag about the hunt.”

“But he’ll have…”

“It won’t be long. And I’m all alone! I hate being alone! I’ve hardly ever been alone in a house. It’s so strange. There’s always been somebody. Grandma was crippled and never went anywhere, and there’s been some other shut-in everywhere else.”

“Well...”

“And the boy that they’re after is surely just off sulking somewhere. Up in the hayloft, likely, like Lanny was.”

“If he has an ounce of sense, he is,” chuckled Tim as he came in and closed the door.

“Well, truth be told, there might be a tory nearby that would hide him if he said he wanted to join a tory regiment. He could find him an escort up to Canada. And wouldn’t it be just like a tory to do something like that. Anything to make life difficult for good patriot folk like us.”

“And to get them another recruit. When are your refugees coming back with their horses?”

“Oh, I don’t know!” she said, now sounding on the brink of tears, “They’re away, as a courtesy. They think we want to be alone together for our ‘honeymoon’. Some honeymoon it is with me nursing an invalid! It would have been better for Lanny if they’d stayed here. He’s not accustomed to being alone with just one other in the house. And who is? It’s not natural to have just two! And too, if they were here, he’d be forced onto his good behavior, out of politeness to the visitor. And that’d be better for me and him both. Wouldn’t it? A man can talk himself into being miserable, and make others miserable while he’s at it.”

“Well… yes, I suppose so…” said Tim, who suspected she was thinking about the beating Lanny had just given her. Or beatings. “Alice,” Tim said slowly, trying to hide his emotion, “maybe it’d be best if you were to go to your parent’s… until things have calmed. It’s not far.”

“And what good would that do! My mother would wonder why I’m there and not home and happy with my husband. She’d wonder if we can’t get along, and she’d think it was my fault! It’d be proof of my failure! She thinks I’m not ready to be a wife and… maybe she’s right. Maybe I’m… maybe I’m not good enough for a Sweet.”

“No, I don’t think she’d…”

“And if I was to go home, acting as if I’m… afraid to be alone with him. What would she make of that? I’d just start hearing one comment after another! I’d never hear the end of it! I’m better off here, getting…” She covered her face and could not finish the sentence.

“Oh,” said Tim, and he put his hand on her shoulder. He thought again about the other battered wife who had been called the author of her own misfortune. “Well,” he said quietly, realizing that things were more complex than he had thought, and that a talk with Lanny might not solve all her problems. He realized it might just anger Lanny to think that he and Alice were being talked about. “Well,” said Tim with a shrug, “maybe it’s time I was on my way.”

“No, please! I’ve made a nice stew and I’ve no one to eat it with. There’s plenty. It’s enough for all of us. For the refugees and everybody – for two days, at least. I’d nothing to do so I just kept on chopping. There’s a cauldron here so big, you could make soap with it. And… and I’m hungry and I don’t like to eat alone. You don’t like to eat alone, do you Tim?”

“Well… not if…”

“Good then. Have a nice bowlful and you won’t be hungry on your ride back.”

“But it’s getting late.”

“Oh come now, there’s an hour of day yet! And the moon will be up before the sun’s even down. And the horse can find its way even if you can’t.” As Alice said this, she was taking a bowl to the cauldron on the fire and ladling out a generous serving. “Sit and eat,” she ordered. “And here, I’ll pour you a nice cup of applejack to help keep your toes warm.”

“It’ll do that,” said Tim as he sat down. She served herself and sat down next to him, since there was only one bench at the table. The other was by the door, loaded with boxes and sacks that neighbors had brought over.

“It’s so kind of Dorothy to share her applejack,” said Alice. “It’s been such a blessing. We’d nothing but small beer and it wasn’t very good either. Barely better than water.”

“It is excellent,” said Tim, after a gulp.

“You know, it’s that Ozzy who’s most at fault!” she said, throwing down her spoon. “It’s him and all his ridiculous ideas about somebody trying to kill him! And of somebody trying to poison him, too! And it’s all the… speculation that’s started Lanny brooding. It’s given him nightmares! He’ll dream of Denny coming after him with a rifle, and shooting at him from behind a tree, like at Oriskany. You know, they say Denny likely killed more than three. Maybe a half-dozen! Sometimes they’d see him knocked back, but you don’t always. They say Denny wouldn’t have seen anything, what with all the smoke. That would make it easier for him to… do it. Wouldn’t it?”

“And… it’s easier for a man,” said Tim. “The enemy’s the enemy. I shot at a sniper once, down in New Jersey. I went out with the patrol.”

“Yes, you told me. You were very brave.”

“And I maybe got him too – maybe killed him. I’ll never know for sure because he was able to run off. But a man can run away and still die of a wound. It happens all the time. He can be fatally wounded and still run like the wind. Sometimes he’ll fall when he’s hit and sometimes he won’t. If you don’t hit a bone, he’ll barely feel it, at first. He’ll know that something hit him, and that he’s got a very strange and unpleasant feeling there. I heard lots of stories back at the hospital. It’s only when he gets to cover and takes a look at it that he’ll see that there’s blood.”

“Tim, going out on patrol is an act of great courage.”

“It was just a few times, though. And usually there was nobody. It was just a couple of times there were snipers.”

“But there’s been so many who have been killed by a sniper. Tim, you are truly very brave,” said Alice as she took his hand and pressed it to her heart while gazing up at him with eyes that sparkled. “And we need brave boys so badly now!”

“It wasn’t so much,” Tim said with a bashful shrug. “Once you’re out with the others and you’ve got a good sergeant leading you – a man who fears nothing. Then you’ll just go along, and do what has to be done – do what the rest of them are doing. It’s like when you’re a kid and you’re out with your mates and you’re up to no good. You just do what the rest are doing and... You can fret about it later.”

“But not everybody can do it, though,” said Alice as she looked back down at her bowl.

Tim wondered whether she was thinking about Lanny having stayed back, claiming to be sick, when the others had marched off to fight and die at Oriskany. Until that moment he had not realized how it might have affected her. She must have heard comments. She would have wondered whether everybody thought him a coward. She might be deeply ashamed of his failure to do his duty. “Well… we all serve in our way,” said Tim. “There’s some who are meant to fight, and others who aren’t. We all have our gifts.”

“You and Denny,” she said as she let go of his hand, and picked up the jug of applejack to refill their cups. “You’re a pair. Both of you ready to go out and meet the enemy – to take a careful aim and squeeze the trigger.”

“Well… only when on a just and lawful military campaign, though. Only when with fellow soldiers and all know that they’re properly sworn in and serving under the lawful government of the people.”

“Yes, of course. And I’m sure Lanny will be willing to go and fight, the next time. But fear of facing the enemy’s not like the fear of a murderer skulking about, is it? It’s that that’s got him scared now. It’s giving him nightmares, it is! And why shouldn’t it? It’s the fear of a criminal, creeping about – ready to kill at any moment. That and… well, surely his head’s well rattled from the falls. Wouldn’t it be? From his fall from the tree alone. If that’s all it was? And it’s so unfair! Were he to fall out of a tree on a military campaign, then he’d be a wounded soldier. He’d come home a hero. When you’re facing an enemy with your fellow soldiers by your sides, your fear is… Well don’t they say that fear is the better part of wisdom? It’s the sound judgment of a good soldier. But fear of a murderer is… it’s different! It’s like you’re being haunted by… ghosts. Isn’t it? It must be awful for him!”

“It must be.”

“And when he ran off and took Sadie with him, he wasn’t meaning to kidnap her and run off to Canada. He was only in fear for his life. A horrible fear and dread that was making him crazy!”

“He told you that?”

“Well, he as much as did.”

“I… I suppose, with all our talk, we’ve given him reason to be afraid.”

“It’s that Ozzy who bears the blame. Isn’t it? And we could hardly expect you or Sadie to disagree with him. You’re guests in their home. It was Denny and Bessie’s job to say something. And they didn’t, did they?”

“No, they didn’t. At least not when…”

“And Denny and Bessie can’t blame their failure on a blow to the head, can they?”

“No, they can’t,” said Tim with a nod. “Truly, they should have said something. And while it wasn’t my place to speak out, I could have talked it over with Denny, so I have to share in the blame, don’t I? We’ve all let poor Lanny down. All but you, of course, who’ve stood by him. And it’s much to your credit, Alice. And Dorothy can’t be blamed either because it’s all been hidden from her. Or at lest it was until Bessie went and told her.”

“The fool!”

“But still, it would only have been right for us to… stop ourselves from speculating.”

“Oh Tim, you are so kind to say so,” sobbed Alice as she grabbed hold of his arm. She got a grip on the inner skin of his upper arm, and was digging in her nails so hard that it hurt. “This is truly a nightmare!” she wailed. “I don’t know how a marriage could start any more horribly! It’s like I’m married to a madman! I know it’ll pass but… but it just gets worse! He… he’s got a bag of silver coins! He’s showed them to me. And… and I don’t know where he could have got them from! It’s surely from the enemy! The rumors have all been true! I was warned not to marry him but I… Oh! I don’t know what to believe!”

“There’s been rumors?” asked Tim, but realized this was a tactless thing to say at such a time. “No no no, Alice, you shouldn’t fear that,” he said, putting his arm round her shoulders.

“I don’t know what to think,” she moaned, her forehead pressed to his shoulder.

“No,” said Tim. But he realized that, if what she said was true, and if Lanny was a spy, then coming to Lanny’s home could be dangerous for his own reputation. Maybe Lanny was being watched. Who was that rider I saw coming here? Tim wondered. And if Lanny has courage enough to be a spy, then is being here a grave danger? And even if he’s not a spy, what good can I do here? What good can I do, trying to talk to a madman? Am I a complete fool, sitting here alone with his wife, waiting for him to return?

It is thought that the honeymoon was originally not a vacation taken by the bride and groom but rather a period of feasting that lasted one month (one moon = 28 days.)

Small beer is weak beer (about 2%) that was drunk by the whole family with every meal, throughout the year. Prosperous families often drank wine, and watered it for the children. At this time, everyone opposed public drunkenness, and a person found passed out in the street could be severely punished. Most Quakers, and many other religious dissenters, opposed the consumption of distilled alcohol, except when used as a medicine. Before the 1800s, a condemnation of the consumption of alcohol in any form would have been regarded as bizarre.

Chapter 22

You pesky little meddler!

“Well,” said Tim with a shrug, “there’s many a man who’s got a bag of coins.” He wanted to pry open the fist that still gripped the soft skin of his arm but was reluctant to cause Alice any further upset. “He’s likely just been trading cattle and horses, and he’s likely just thrifty and… he likely just wants to always have enough money on hand, just in case we’re attacked and have to run. Surely, that’s all. He just wanted you to know he’d be ready for any… calamity that might befall.”

“Yes, of course,” said Alice as she looked down in shame. “And I know he’s a patriot… some sort of a patriot. And if he did sell information, it was surely useless – or maybe even false information that was calculated to do them more harm than good.”

“Indeed, yes, of course. They say that armies often do that, with men acting as false informants, selling… faulty intelligence, they call it.”

“But… how could Lanny know what’s useless and what’s not? Don’t they say that it’s oftentimes the trivial sounding things that are of the greatest benefit to the enemy? The preacher told us that. He said it’s often the gossiping of an officer’s wife that costs the lives of many a brave young man.”

“And surely none of the Sweets are traitors,” said Tim as he took hold of her hand and gave it a squeeze of reassurance that, at the same time, got it off his arm. “We all know that. And… well, except maybe… but when a man’s not in his right head – when he’s been injured. We can’t demand as much of him, can we? We can’t be expecting the same quality of judgment. Or a woman either. Think of poor Bessie.”

“She has suffered so much.”

“She has,” said Tim as he got hold of her other hand. Holding them seemed to calm her.

“And poor Lanny, too,” said Alice, as if something had just occurred to her. “After his father died. He’d been thinking that the defeat of Burgoyne wouldn’t matter much anyways, because the King would surely prevail in the end, what with him having so great an army and navy and such wealth to call upon. Right from the start, Lanny figured that we were too few and too poor to stand up to the might of so great an empire. They’re the new Romans, he says, and he says that the British Empire is still in its ascendency.”

“Well, but…”

“He just says it to me, though, of course. And he was so amazed when Burgoyne surrendered. He was sure he’d capture Albany and the whole valley and split the country in two. And when news came of the fall of Philadelphia, he said that that was surely the end of it. He said that when a nation’s capital falls the loser admits defeat.”

“Yes, but it’s…”

“He’s read a lot of history and he knows it to be true. And it’s only right that they should because one side has to accept defeat at some point, for otherwise every war would just go on and on until the last soldier is dead or imprisoned, and half the common folk are starved.”

“That might be, but…”

“ Lanny said that likely the negotiations are underway already, in secret. There’ll maybe be another battle fought but it’ll be a proper battle, out on a plain, with all in a proper line of battle – a great glorious battle. It’s like a duel, he says, only with hundreds on each side and all of them standing tall, as a testament to their courage and honor. He says it’s the best way to settle a great issue, with each man in his place and doing his duty and demonstrating his valor. And Washington would lose again, of course, but a major defeat would allow the members of Congress to concede defeat with dignity and honor.”

“Well, I don’t know that…”

“And it’d no longer be a disgrace to go to the negotiating table. Lanny said that likely we’d do well, and we’d surely get control of our own taxes again, which is all that most of us really wanted in the first place. We’d just have to pledge to support the cost of the help that the King sends us when we’ve requested it. And he says that, over in old England, they’re talking about an Assembly of the Empire, in London. It’d be like Parliament, only it’d be for all the colonies. And the old Parliament would then be just for England and Scotland and Wales, and maybe Ireland.”

“Really?”

“That’s what Lanny’s been saying. He reads an awful lot. Him and his brothers, and a few others of the better sort around here, they’ve started a library and he’s been able to get all kinds of good books and newspapers. He truly cares for our rights and freedoms, as much as any man. He’s just… thought it through a bit further.”

“Well, but he...”

“And he says that we’ll still have all the liberties we had before they started trying to take them away. We’ll have even more, actually, for they’d be obliged to grant us all the legal rights that they have back in old England. It’s either that or they’ll face another rebellion after only a few years, and they know that. And he said the new Royal Governor would surely be a man who had remained loyal to the King, even if he did so in secret while supplying valuable intelligence.”

“I suppose he would, but...”

“Secretly aiding the King would be seen as an action that involved great risk and great bravery. More than soldering, because there you’re just following orders, and you’re always surrounded by your fellow soldiers, and you’re always under strict scrutiny.”

“You are that, but…”

“And he said that, to please the rebels, the Royal Governor would have to be a man who was born and raised here. And he would have to be one who knows the countryside well, and knows the mind of the common man, but still a man who could represent the better sort, by being the son of a man who owns a good tract of land.”

“Or education.”

“Yes, of course, and he ought to be a man who’s shown that he’s been willing to educate himself, on his own, but still to educate himself just as well as any who’s gone to university. Like you, Tim. Lanny says a man who’s not been educated in a university could be seen by the ordinary sorts as one of his own kind. And he figures a man like that would be the natural choice, for he’d have a foot in both the lower class and the upper class. And too, because of his self-education, he’d have made himself a flexible thinker who’d bear a capacity great insight.”

“Well… ah… we do need men who are… flexible thinkers.”

“But he’s thinking of himself, though, isn’t he? Don’t you think so? He doesn’t come out and say so to me, but he obviously thinks that he could be the new Royal Governor.”

“Well… ah… but it could be any of a number of… loyalists, and… and maybe Lanny could be… flexible enough to be both a loyalist and… ah… a patriot, too.”

“Oh, do you really think so? Oh Tim, you are so kind. You don’t know how awful it feels to wonder whether he’s… whether just a… And a wife has to stand by her husband, doesn’t she – no matter what! And… but it’s… it’s like we’ve not gotten married at all! What with his getting knocked out – one day after the next – day after day! And… and all the pain he’s been suffering! He’s not in his right mind at all! He’s not even been able to… to consummate the marriage.”

“He hasn’t? I mean… that’s not…”

“It’s not at all what I’d expected for a honeymoon.”

“No, it wouldn’t be… I mean… It’ll surely get better though, with time,” said Tim with deep compassion in his voice and both his hands round hers. “He just needs some rest and… and he’ll be up to it in a few days, I’m sure.” Tim immediately realized how inappropriate this must sound and found himself unable to say any more.

“Of course he will,” she said with an expression of deep gratitude. “And… and it hardly matters though – really. For after all, I already carry his child.”

“You do?”

“And I’m likely to give birth next March, for the puking started last August. It was never so bad that I had to run outside, so I’ve been able to keep it a secret. But now I’m sure of it, for I can feel the babe inside me. I can feel it moving. And it’s just as they say it is. At first it was like there’s a butterfly inside it and you can feel it batting its wings. But now you can feel it kick, and it’s woken up and it’s kicking now. Here, you can feel it,” she said, pulling her skirt and shift just high enough to place his hand on her bare stomach and press his fingers. “Can you feel it?”

“I… ah… Oh! I can! I felt it!” he said in a voice that had gone horse.

“But I’ve… I’ve not been able to tell anyone,” she said, looking up at Tim but keeping his hand in place. “And it’s... and it’s for fear that… that I’ve not been…” For a moment they peered longingly into each other’s eyes.

Tim thought they were about to kiss when she pulled away, swung her legs over the end of the bench, and stood up. “Well!” she gasped, her arms straight by her sides. “Well, perhaps it’s time you were getting back. It’ll be dark soon and you’ve six miles to cover.”

“Indeed yes I do!” said Tim, almost shouting. As he tried to get up he stumbled and fell onto the floor.

“Oh Tim!” she cried out, rushing to him. “Have you hurt yourself?” Again their eyes met and again she had to pull herself away. Tim went for his coat and put on his mitts, scarf and hat. She opened the door and he stepped out. The sky was clear in the west, allowing an orange sunset to light up the horizon and reflect off the new snow.

“It is so lovely,” Alice said softly.

“Truly it is,” he agreed, looking at it and then turning back to at a face that was bathed in golden light.

“I thank you so much for your caring,” she said, wiping a tear from her cheek.

“I’ll tell your secrets to no one,” promised Tim.

“And I wish thee a safe journey back. I truly do.”

“I… I shouldn’t come back though,” he said, looking into her eyes for one last time.

“No…” she whispered, and impulsively she stepped forward to give him one last hug.

“What’s this?” growled Lanny, who had just come round the corner. He carried a rifle and smelled of whiskey.

“Lanny!” gasped Tim, “I… I was hoping to...”

“Hoping to what?”

“I was just…”

“You get yourself off of my property!” hissed Lanny as he pointed his finger.

“Lanny,” said Alice, “its not what…”

“Get thee inside, wife!” he yelled at her, grabbing her arm and shoving her through the door. She whimpered in pain. “And you,” he said, turning back to Tim, “You take yourself off of my property and you stay off!”

Tim did not respond and the door was slammed in his face. He looked away. Something in the nearby woods caught his attention. It was a movement, as if a man or an animal was there. A deer? he wondered.

“You listen to me, you pesky little meddler!” growled Lanny from behind. “You stay away from my wife or you’ll pay a dear price for it!” Again he slammed the door. Tim stood there and again looked towards the dark woods where he had seen the movement. Lanny’s shouting had the dogs in the barn barking furiously and sounding crazed with rage and ready to kill with great cruelty. Tim wondered what sort of cruelty poor little Alice would now suffer in the hands of her crazy husband.

Chapter 23

Thou stinking dog.

Tim stood in the late-day gloom, staring at the closed door, and listening to the muffled shouting from inside. He paced back and forth, his hands in fists, then looked up into the darkening sky, pulled off his hat and beat his forehead with his palm. I have tried my best! he told himself. It’s for them to settle their differences as best they can! It is the concern of their families and not of mine! Then with a sigh, he turned to walk away.

But then he stopped. An image came to him of Alice standing naked before him, battered and bleeding. It was an image so vivid – it was as if he could reach out and lay his hands upon her. Am I naught but a craven dog? he asked himself, pressing his fist to his brow. Will I walk away from her? Will I leave her to her torment?

But, he asked after he had turned back, am I truly a meddler? Am I a fool who makes assumptions and who interferes where I’ve no business?

The shouting erupted again but he could not make out the words. “Alice, I beg of thee,” Tim whispered, wishing that the force of his will could penetrate the thick planks of the door. “Please Alice, don’t antagonize him. Not now!”

Then he heard a shriek, as if she had just been knocked down to the floor. Tim went to the door and flung it open. They were standing there facing each other, their hands in fists. Both turned to look.

“And I thought!” yelled Lanny “that I told you to get off of my property!”

“Lanny, please!” begged Tim. “You’re unwell! Let me talk to you, just for a little while!”

“Get thee away, thou stinking dog!” growled Lanny as he turned to go to the corner to pick up an axe handle. It was for a splitting axe – long and heavy.

“There’s no need for that!” said Tim, backing away but still hunkered down, his arms out, ready for hand-to-hand combat. During the past year he had been trained in the use of the short staff – both for attacking and for defending against one. He had good reason to think he could disarm a man who smelled so strongly of alcohol.

“Can you not comprehend the fact,” said Lanny slowly and clearly, as if Tim might be too stupid to understand, “that you are simply not welcome in this home? And what did you come here for, anyways!” he asked with a brief glance to Alice, who had backed up to the bed in the corner of the room. Lanny snorted and returned his stare to Tim, ready to attack and certain that Tim could not stop him. He too had been trained in the use of the short staff. The local militia captain had found a man who could drill his soldiers in its use and Lanny had been one of his more attentive students. “Yea, a fine thing it is, to greet a man at the door of my house and with my wife in his arms. Out in the open and in the light of day, there for any neighbor to behold! Though, still with his breeches on, I’ll grant him that,” he said with another look back to Alice.

“Lanny, you’ve misunderstood!” implored Tim, his hands now open in a pleading gesture.

“Get thee away, thou randy rascal,” said Lanny, turning back to face Tim. “Away from my home and away from my wife!”

“There’s nothing to be gained from this,” said Tim, but with little conviction left in his voice. He was coming to realize how enormous a mistake he had made. This confrontation could have no good outcome. Even if he did somehow save Alice from Lanny’s brutality, his own reputation would be destroyed and he and Sadie would soon be homeless and friendless.

“Yea,” sneered Lanny, as if he could read Tim’s mind, “there was much to be lost by your coming here to try to romance my wife. Indeed a heavy price to be paid by you, both today and tomorrow.”

Tim knew that Lanny was right, but he could not back down. This could be a life and death struggle, and was likely Alice’s life that hung in the balance. “But Lanny,” he said with an attempt at a compassionate smile, “you’re… you’re not well. And you’ll gain nothing by this and…”

“I won’t? Nothing to gain? But perhaps something to keep. Something like my dignity? Something like my self-respect? Isn’t it my honor that I’ve now to defend? And, as they say, death before dishonor.”

“But Lanny,” implored Tim “you’re in no condition to fight. You’ve been drinking and your head’s taken so many blows. Shouldn’t you hold off your vengeance until you’re ready to…”

“Ready? You talk of being ready? I can see that you’ve been ready. Ready for the first opportunity. Ready to go to work on my Alice, as soon as I’m out the door. Ready and waiting for your chance – your chance to have your hands upon her. Hasn’t he been, Alice my dove?” he said with another glance back.

“Lanny don’t,” she begged from where she stood, holding her clasped hands to her stomach as if in pain. “Please stop!”

“Ask me to stop, will you? And for what purpose? To give you another chance, tomorrow? Or next week? Another chance to cuckold me, the next time I’m off at work. Off trying to earn enough to put bread on our table? And if not Tim Euston then with who? The butcher or the baker or the candlestick maker? Haven’t you already sent out a message to all the countryside! Haven’t you? Yea, you have indeed,” he said, turning back to Tim, “and maybe it’s time for me to send a message of my own!”

“Tim, you’d better go,” whispered Alice.

“But will you be safe?” asked Tim.

“Yes I will. I’m sure.”

This time Lanny remained silent and lowered the axe handle.

Tim turned and went slowly out the door. He started in the direction of Dorothy’s, forgetting about the horse.

“Run away, thou craven dog!” laughed Lanny from the door.

Tim stopped and turned. “I am no craven!” he said in slow, determined words.

“Ha! Keep going, fiddler! Take yourself out of this county and take your sister with you, before she sinks her claws into poor stupid Ozzy. The two of you can work your arts of persuasion elsewhere. This is no country for those whose only trade is seduction and whose only tools are fiddles and flattery.”

“I will not permit you to…”

“You’ll not permit?” laughed Lanny as he walked out from the door. “And what authority do you have over what I say and do? You, a travelling fiddler!”

“Withdraw that, or you’ll feel my wrath!”

“Tim, no!” begged Alice from the open door.

“Thou impudent dog!” said Lanny, raising the axe handle and taking another step forward. “ ‘Tis my wrath that’s to be felt!”

“Put it down!” ordered Tim.

“I’ll not, thou defiant little snipe! Not ‘till I’ve given thee the lesson that thou hast sore need!”

“Stop it, you fool!” shrieked Alice from behind.

“Get thee back, wife!” he yelled as he turned to point his finger at her.

“No, I’ll not!” she yelled and for a moment they stood staring at each other.

“Give that thing to me!” said Tim as he came up behind Lanny.

“I’ll give it to you,” hissed Lanny, turning and raising the club. At that moment they heard the crack of a rifle and the whistle of a ball flying past, just over their heads. In the corners of their eyes they had seen the orange flash, but smoke and dim light hid the face of the shooter.

“Who’s there?” shouted Lanny. “How darest thou!” he roared as he started towards the shooter.

Tim could make out a man with a rifle, disguised by a scarf tied across his face. He had been hiding where a split rail fence had been built in zigzag fashion. There was no time for him to reload, and he came out to meet Lanny’s advance.

“You?” said Lanny, as if he recognized the man. “I should have guessed, thou worthless lout! Feel this for your reward!”

In the dim light Tim and Alice saw Lanny swing the axe-handle and heard a whack as the rifle barrel blocked it. Lanny tried another blow from the side but again the stranger blocked it. The rifle then dropped as man ducked under the axe-handle’s reach to grab Lanny in a wrestling hold.

“Damn your eyes!” gasped Lanny, but then he made a strange hissing sound.

“Stop it you two!” shrieked Alice.

The stranger pulled himself loose and backed away. Lanny was down on his knees. The man picked up his rifle with one hand. He looked towards Tim and Alice and then turned and started off in a jog, running away across the field. Beyond a rise he disappeared into the faint blue light of winter’s dusk.

“Come,” said Tim, grabbing Alice’s arm and pulling her back towards the door.

“Oh Tim, I thought he was going to kill you!” she sobbed as she threw her arms around him.

“Come into the house!”

“But Tim, what about…”

“Bandits, they are! For sure,” he said as he dragged her back. Once inside, he slammed the door.

“Bandits? What do you mean?” she asked in disbelief.

“He’s trying to lure us out! There’ll be others! And they could see that I’m unarmed!”

“Bandits?”

“There’s bandits all over. Likely they saw Lanny alone when he was coming home and then they followed him back.”

“But there’s not been bandits...”

“Redcoat deserters, likely. Men on the run, living off the land. And maybe it’s local men – maybe Lanny’s been bragging of his bag of silver to more than you.”

“But…”

“Snuff the candle!” said Tim and he turned to open the door a crack to peek outside.

Instead of putting the candle out Alice set it inside a crock that sat empty by the wall. A faint light shone upwards to the ceiling. She returned to Tim, who had the door open to peek out. He could see Lanny on his hands and knees coughing like a dog with a bone in his throat.

“We can’t just leave him there,” whispered Alice. She had crouched by Tim to see out.

“We can’t go out! It’s too dangerous!”

“But we can’t just leave him there! What would the neighbors think?”

Tim held his fist to his mouth and said, “You’re right.” He hesitated and opened the door. With Alice clinging to his arm they went to where Lanny was trying to get up.

“Lanny,” asked Alice, “are you hurt?”

His only response was a hissing, sputtering sound.

“What’s wrong with him?” asked Alice as she and Tim each took hold of an arm. He had his hands to his throat and they could see blood on his shirt and vest. Dark spots covered the snow, showing where blood had sprayed as he coughed.

“I think his throat’s been cut,” said Tim.

“How?”

“The bandit. He must have stabbed him. That’s why he can’t talk.”

“Oh!” whimpered Alice. “Do you think he’ll be all right?”

“I don’t know,” said Tim.

Lanny was trying to stand up, his hands to his neck. Tim looked closely but could only see a mass of blood. He then looked at his own hands, now covered with it. “Take his arm,” said Tim. They pulled him as he stumbled along and got him to the house. He managed to stand by himself and then reached one arm out, as if blind. He staggered and collapsed to his knees.

“What’s wrong with him?” asked Alice. They had hold of him to help keep him on his knees and not fall face forwards.

“When you’ve lost too much blood,” said Tim, “you’ll want to stand up, even when you can’t. A surgeon told me about it. The wounded are always trying to stand up, and then they’ll fall over. He said they can be a nuisance.”

Alice had gone for the candle. She brought it close to where Lanny was still on his knees. They saw his blood soaked shirts and breeches, and small puddle forming on a floorboard.

“He cut his throat, all right,” said Tim.

“What’ll we do?”

“Ah… get a cloth. But I think he’s likely to fall over and hurt himself. Don’t you think?” Not knowing what else to do, Tim reached under Lanny’s arms from behind and pulled him over to where he could prop him up against the wall. Lanny struggled against him, trying to keep his hands to his neck.

“What’ll we do now?” asked Alice, who stood in a crouch, holding the candle. Lanny started to rock forward and back, his breath coming in coughs and gasps – each cough spraying blood across the floor. Finally, he slumped forward and for a moment was silent. Then he revived, struggled for breath, and then went quiet again.

“My goodness,” said Alice, “I think he’s dead.”

“He is,” agreed Tim. “Or soon anyways.”

“Well,” said Alice as she backed away, looking at the blood on her hands.

“You suppose it was Willy?” asked Tim, who wondered why she seemed so disgusted by the sight of the blood. And if he was not a wife beater they why, at the hour of her husband’s death, was she seeming reluctant to be close to her him. Lanny again started to revive, but again went quiet, slumping forward.

“No,” said Alice, turning away. “It wasn’t Willy.”

“But the way he walked,” said Tim. “Didn’t it look a bit like him?”

“No, it wasn’t him!” insisted Alice. She was crouched lower with her hands clasped together. “So… so I’m a widow now, aren’t I?”

“I suppose you are.” said Tim in a whisper. “Soon, anyway.”

“He was a traitor, you know.”

“Lanny?”

“Yes! I’m sure of it!”

“He admitted it?”

“He… he must have been one! How could he be otherwise? But… but he couldn’t truly have been loyal to the King either, could he? Surely he just acted out of greed.”

“Well… you can be loyal out of greed, I suppose,” said Tim. He paused, realizing how foolish that must sound. Afraid that she might faint and fall and hurt herself, he went to her and helped her to the table where she could sit on the bench. “But… but surely he meant well by it,” he said, “and surely he was a good patriot too, deep down.”

“Yes, he must have been,” she whispered, her hands clasped as if in prayer.

But who would want to kill him? Tim wondered. Did someone follow him here? Was it a stranger, or someone Lanny knew? Was it the man I saw on the horse when I came here? The one who stopped when he saw me looking back at him? And what will happen to me now if I’m found at the scene of a murder? Are there others outside, watching? Some already suspected me. I could be blamed, easily and conveniently. Was this all planned? And am I to be convicted of a crime I did not commit?

Chapter 24

Before it’s too late.

“He must be dead,” said Tim. “By now, for sure.” He had been wondering whether he should have gone to Lanny to try to comfort him. Instead he had sat on the bench by the table with his arm around Alice’s shoulder, feeling it would be best to comfort the one who would go on living and serving the community. But she’s still his wife, Tim thought. Or was his wife. Won’t be his wife for long if she still is. Are you still married when you’re dead? Tim found it hard to think. He felt stunned and scared and guilty, along with some other emotion he had never felt before. And poor Alice, he told himself. She must feel even worse.

“Yes, he must be,” said Alice with a whimper.

“What?”

“He must be dead.”

“Oh. Well… now or soon. They say it’s hard to tell, sometimes. It’s often only after a day or two that you truly know with a certainty. Though, in his case, I think…”

“We should have gone to him right away. Shouldn’t we have? And we should have held a cloth on it, to stop the bleeding.”

“Well, it’s his neck, so likely he would have died anyways.”

“Tim! We just let him die!”

“No no, he would have died soon enough. He was stabbed in the neck and there was blood all over the snow. You’d never survive that.”

“You’re sure?”

“And look at all the blood in here. Surely he’s dead. They say that when you’re stabbed in the gut, it sometimes takes you hours to bleed to death. But… but surely too, his spirit will rise up to glory. And with a certainty it can be said that, someday, the two of you will meet again amid the angels and…”

“Oh dear! I must…” sobbed Alice. “I must thank the good Lord for… “

“For forgiving him his sins? Yea, surely he was repentant. And the time will soon come when we too will make our last peace with…”

“No!” she wailed as she flung her arms around Tim. “It’s not that! I thank the Lord for delivering me from… from so horrible a man! Oh, I thank thee Lord! I didn’t deserve such a beast – such a monster! What a misery my life would have been!”

“Alice!” whispered Tim, astonished. But then he spoke with compassion as she buried her face in his shirt and sobbed. “Truly Alice, you mustn’t. This isn’t the time to think such...”

“I should go to the door and cry out my thanks to… to whatever bandit it was who came to me and saved me from a lifetime of torment.”

“Well… but things would likely have gotten better and...”

“Each time he was knocked out I was wishing the blow might have broken his head and…”

“Alice, he might be still alive and able to hear to us!”

“But Tim, it’s the truth! I feared him! I envied the courage of whoever it was who brained him!”

“But you shouldn’t be…”

“Was it you?” she asked, pulling away far enough to look up into his eyes. Her wet cheeks were red and her eyes wide and, in Tim’s eyes, she was as beautiful now as she had ever been.

“Ah… No, I’d no reason to want to brain him, but…”

“Who did then?”

“Well…”

“And,” she asked as she straightened up. “Tim, have there really been bandits about?”

“Of course. Deserters mostly. But… didn’t he look a bit like Willy Williams? The shape of him? The way he walked. Do you think that maybe…”

“No it wasn’t him! But it must be someone who… knows Lanny. Don’t you think? Isn’t it too unlikely that a bandit would have stabbed him and just run off, without invading the house to rob us too? Isn’t it more likely that it’s the same one who’s tried to kill him three times already?”

“Well,” said Tim with a shrug. “You know that Ozzy thinks it might be someone who wanted to chase him off to Canada, so that there’d be one less to divide up the estate when…”

“Denny then? Maybe he followed you here. Maybe he’d hoped you were coming here because he wanted to make it look like you did it. What is it that made you come here today? Did Denny send you here?”

“Ah… no. It was Bessie. She said that Ozzy had said that you’d been beaten. And the first time I came over, Bessie said that Cassie had seen you with a red spot on you brow, like you’d been beaten.

“No, I’d just walked into a door. I’d been saying something to him over my shoulder, out by the chicken coop, and I had the door open and I walked right into it.”

“Oh.”

“He laughed at me!”

“Oh.”

“It was like you walking into the branch of that tree. He would have laughed at you.”

“Yes, I suppose he...”

“But surely it was only a matter of time before he’d have been beating me. And I’m sure he’d be far too clever to ever bruise my face. He’d surely lay his blows where the marks would be well hidden. Wouldn’t you think so? But… did Bessie really think I’d been beaten?”

“Yes! Well… Bessie said…”

“Maybe she’s been plotting with Denny,” said Alice, ominously, as she grabbed hold of Tim’s arm, again pinching the tender skin. “He’s killed before! You know that! At Oriskany they say he was killing like a crazed Hessian zealot. And he’s such a good shot. They were lucky to have him.”

“Well, lucky for all of us, I guess. We need men who can take aim at the enemy just like he’s aiming at a deer. How else will we drive the tyrants into the sea? How else will we end the threats to our liberty? And some say that most soldiers can’t do it – they can’t kill. They’ll freeze up, or they’re so anxious they’ll jerk the trigger and miss.”

“And they say Willy was shooting to kill too! And who’d think it of him – sweet Willy Williams!”

“They tell me,” whispered Tim. “that a man fell when I shot at him, down in New Jersey.”

“Yes, you told me?”

“A couple of men that saw it, that’s what they thought.”

“And good for you, Tim Euston.”

“I can remember thinking that it’s him or me. That’s all I thought.”

“But still you did it! You pulled the trigger! You were able to summons the courage and act. You were man enough to do what had to be done, to protect our freedoms.”

“I’ve read that, in a European battle – an ordinary one – not more than one in fifty will die of a wound. So many shots are fired but so few hit their target. The officers will always tell the men to aim for their knees because most of the balls go high. Because of nervous soldiers jerking the trigger. But it doesn’t work. And maybe too, it’s because so many are aiming high because they don’t want to kill. They say that battle can turn men into boys.”

“But not all of them,” said Alice, pulling him closer.

“Well, I don’t think…”

“So it could have been Denny who’s behind it all – him and Bessie. But I think it was more likely Ozzy. He’s a schemer and he hates Lanny. He despises him! They all hate each other. Except for Ozzy and Bessie, and they love each other too much. And I’d not put it past Ozzy to kill. He’ll walk forty miles to see a man tried and hanged. And then he’ll be talking about it for months afterwards.”

“Well, I suppose that…”

“And too, it could have been some patriot zealot who’s been watching us, thinking that Lanny’s a spy for the enemy. Which he was! I’m sure of it! Once Burgoyne marched in, he thought it was the end of it. There were many who figured that. They’d not say so out loud but you could tell. And that got the patriot zealots all the more scared, and that made them even more angry. So there’s surely many a man hereabouts who could justify killing Lanny as a spy. We’re a nation at war, aren’t we? It’s us or them! And Lanny had it coming, too. How many silver coins might he have gone on earning? Would there ever have been enough? Truly he deserved to die for the traitor that he was. It was just and deserved and he’ll surely burn in hell for his treason.”

“Well,” said Tim with a shrug, “when…

“Tim, he was a monster! Truly! And you know that too, don’t you? I’d only wanted him for his money, you know. And how could any woman want him for more? He was a braggart and a money hungry traitor!”

“Well, I…”

“And I’d never have agreed to marry him, not even for money, not if he hadn’t got me with child.”

“Well…

“I’d not wanted to do it!” sobbed Alice, who again had her nails dug into the skin of Tim’s arm. “He’d forced himself on me! He’s a big hairy brute and I’m just a poor little thing! What could I do? And who’d have believed me? I’d gone off into the woods with him, hadn’t I? What kind of a girl does that? Some would say I’d lured him there and beguiled him with my charms. They’d have called me a tease and a strumpet and a whore. My own mother would have called me that! I’ve heard her say it of others! Oh Tim!” she said, again throwing her arms around him. “You don’t think I’m a whore, do you?”

“Well! Ah! No, you’re just…”

“Oh, thank you Tim! You are so kind! And it’s so unjust! For now they’ll likely blame you for killing him and they’ll hang you. And when you were only meaning well, and doing what you thought was right.”

“Well… I don’t really think they’ll…”

“We both might be accused of it. We might both hang together. What if someone came through the door right now? What would we say? How would we defend ourselves from their accusations?”

“But,” said Tim with a shrug, “can’t we just tell the truth? They say it’s always best to…”

“Of course we should! And they all must have heard the rumors of his treason. Why else is Harley Murphy always coming around? He must have heard the rumors. I could tell! And he’d look at me like… he feels sorry for me. He hasn’t been looking at me like he hopes the best for me – like I’m a girl about to be married to a fine young man. He must have known how horrid he was.”

“But… surely Lanny’s injuries have brought out the worst in him. And his fear of a murderer too. It would be more than many a man could bear!”

“No! It only revealed his true nature. I knew him better than anyone, and I know that inside him resides a black beast of hell – a servant of Satan who’s…”

“But Alice, wouldn’t it be best now if you didn’t think about it. Every man has some bad in him, doesn’t he? And every man some good.”

“You are too kind, Tim. Is there anyone you couldn’t forgive?”

“Well, are we not called upon to…”

“And can you forgive me then?” she begged, looking into his eyes. The candle was close by and lit up her small features. “Tim, I would die if you didn’t forgive me! You must!”

“Of course I forgive you! And there’s nothing to forgive, is there, for you’ve… You’ve done nothing wrong! You’ve tried your utmost, haven’t you? You’ve done nothing wrong and you’ve…”

“Oh do you really think so! Tim, you are so kind!”

“Alice, you’ve only been the innocent victim of the wills and demands of those who are… those with a stronger will. And you’ve done your utmost to bear your burdens as best you can! And you could do no more! And now, with all that’s happened, you’ve been pulled one way and another by… wills too strong to resist. But now it’s over and he’s dead and gone and now you can go on and we can…”

“Your right, Tim,” she said, bringing his hand to her cheek. “I’m free of him now. Now I’m free to marry the man that I truly love.”

“Ah… are you? Well, then…”

“At last I can lie in bed with the one of my dreams.”

“Well,” gushed Tim as he lifted his free hand to his forehead.

“And I’ll have this farm now, won’t I?”

“Well, I don’t… was it even Lanny’s yet?”

“No, old Dorothy hasn’t given anything away yet. She’ll dole out enough to keep them dressed and saddled but that’s all. But she might divide it all up soon, for she fears that, were she to die, that they’d fight each other in court ‘till the whole of it was spent on lawyers. And there’s so many lawyers in Albany now. All the patriot lawyers were driven out of the city and most of them are in Albany and they say they’re all looking for work.”

“Well, sometimes it’s best to…

“We can’t marry until Dorothy’s given me the farm.”

“Yes, but…”

“For the benefit of the child, of course. It’ll be her firstborn grandchild. And… and it’ll look like Lanny, likely. So she won’t doubt my word. And I’ll insist on remaining here – here in the house he’d brought me too. And I’ll wail like a babe if they try to take me away.”

“But you might be better off if...”

“And once she’s held her little grandson in her arms, then I’ll say that I fear that me and the poor thing will surely die in poverty and destitution.”

“Oh, but surely…”

“And I’ll keep it up until she takes me to the county clerk___ and signs it all over.”

“But…”

“In trust for the child only, likely. But surely with me as the guardian, and maybe me as its heir if it dies. A life-estate they call it. Surely she’ll grant me that much, me being the mother. How could she give me less?”

“Ah… how indeed?”

“But we can’t talk about it now. And Tim, you can’t stay here any longer! What if someone came?”

“But I… he’s still here,” said Tim, pointing to Lanny who was now slumped well over, his head between his legs.

“Oh… yes, of course… But… but I’ll just go back home and tell Mom and Dad and they’ll come back and clean it up.”

“And there’ll have to be a wake.”

“There will. And it’ll have to be here. I’ll insist on it. I’ll demand it! I’ll be half crazed with sorrow! And I’ll stay here and when it’s over and it’s time to bury him, I’ll beg them not to! But right now, I’ll go there and I’ll say he’s hurt and that they must come! I’ll act like I’m crazy! I’ll bring them back here, and then I’ll… I’ll deny that he could truly be dead! And Tim, I won’t ever tell a soul that you were here. So long as you can keep quiet, too, then no one will ever know. We mustn’t tell anyone! You’ll not tell, Tim? Will you?”

“Well… but… well… we could say I came for a visit, just as the bandits had invaded your home and…”

“No, that’s not good enough. Your just happening by will seem too suspicious, what with the looks you’ve been giving me ever since you came here. And especially at the wedding! You and Willy! It was like the two of you were in competition with the saddest dog in the county.”

“Oh,” said Tim, embarrassed to hear that his face had revealed so much.

“And you can’t have been here. His parents are a pair of Methodist fanatics and any hint of adultery could put them off…”

“Whose parents?”

“I could just tell everyone we’d been invaded by bandits – me and Lanny. That’d be easy enough. They’re all about, just as you say. And I could say that they were tories. No, better I say they were patriots. Only I’ll call them whigs. That’d please old Dorothy, wouldn’t it?”

“Ah… it would, I suppose. But whose parents did you mean, just now, when…”

“I could say they killed him and then raped me! Who would doubt a girl who said she’d been ravished by three stinking brutes? One after another! They’d wonder about what sorts of filthy things they said to me, and of what horrible things they’d forced me do.”

“Ah… well… I…”

“Meg Wallice’s girl-of-all-work was ravished by bandits. They made her do all sorts of things. Then they got drunk and laid down for a nap, so she was able to sneak off. She was so scared she ran away without her clothes. She ran naked all the way to the Mortimer farm and all the boys there saw her coming! Two miles she ran, barefoot and naked to the skin!”

“Really?”

“But they never found them. They’d woken up and fled. And this was a month ago, already. They were deserters, likely. But they could still be hereabouts. They could have come back. I could say they’d forced me to show them where all the money was hid. And then I could burst into tears – whenever I thought of it! And I could wear black for a year and act like I’m half crazy. And I could cry out in the night like I’ve dreamed of them coming back again.”

“You could.”

“I’ll say that I can’t speak of it, for the memory’s so horrid.”

“You could. But who’s…”

“And that way I’ll not confuse my story. And I can say that Lanny died trying to protect me. I can say that he stood up against the three of them! Dorothy would be so proud to hear that her son had courage enough to stand up to any who would dare dishonor his home and threaten his wife. She’ll be so proud of him and… then she’ll feel even more sorry for me.”

“She would.”

“But does she know you came here?”

“Oh… well. I doubt it. I took a horse and came here without telling anybody. Not even Bessie. But likely, by now, somebody’s noticed the horse gone. The slaves, for sure, at least.”

“Where could you say you’d gone to?”

“Ah… I could have gone to tell something to Harley. They’ll not ask about what. They might but… I could say it was regarding the duties of the committee so I’m not permitted to say what.”

“That won’t make Dorothy happy.”

“Well… it might not matter,” said Tim with a shrug. “She must realize that we’re all being forced to do what we can to please the committee. They’re the law, these days. And this would be best for us, too. This might end Harley’s coming all the time for one visit after another, to find out what’s behind all the rumors. Though Dorothy might miss him coming. And it’d be a benefit to Denny too, wouldn’t it, for he wants to clear his name so he can get a commission in the Army. It’s help protect they all.”

“But…”

“And I could explain how you need to keep…” but then Tim paused. “Whose parents are Methodists?”

“Willy’s.”

“Willy?”

“Willy Wilson. Now that Lanny’s gone I can marry him.”

“Marry him?”

“He’s surely the father.”

“Willie is?”

“Yes, but we’ll first have to wait ‘till Dorothy given me the farm… for the child.”

“Willy’s?”

“He’s been wanting me for a wife. He still does. That’s why he was so sad-looking at the wedding. But my parents wouldn’t have him. They figured me pretty enough to do better. And they were right, weren’t they, for Lanny Sweet wanted me.”

“Yes.”

“My mother was so pleased to see me marry him. She loved him more than I ever did. His death will break her heart.”

“Oh.”

“And now I can go to my dearest Willy and tell him that I love him and that there’ll never be another.”

“Willy.”

“You’ve met him. Willy Williams. He was at the wedding.”

“Yes, of course.”

“You talked to him a long time. That was so kind of you. It must have been so painful for him to see me marry another.”

“It would have been.”

“But he had to be there, to show that he wasn’t bothered by it. I begged him to come. My parents refused to let us marry because they figured he’d never be able to keep me properly. They said he’ll only ever work hard for a man who’d whip him along.”

“Well… he’s training the horses.”

“And he does that well! He’s excellent at it. But you can’t make a living training horses, can you?”

“Some do.”

“Well, never much of a living. There’s too many who want to do it. It’s a rich boy’s pleasure. You’d have to have more than that. Everybody says his mother spoiled him and that’s why he’s lazy. They said he could never keep himself out of poverty by his own efforts. They said he’ll have to marry a widow with money of her own, and that if she wants him to work she’d have to crack a whip over him.”

“Well, perhaps with a good woman he’d…”

“Indeed yes. And I could be that woman. There’s many a lay-about who’s prospered under the rule of a good wife.”

“I suppose so.”

“That’s what my mother says. And I suspect she thinks of my father when she says it.”

“So,” said Tim as he looked away, “I suppose we both should tell Harley. For your sake as well as mine. For otherwise he’ll keep him on prying. I’ll tell him the truth and you’ll tell him the same. And tell him you know Lanny to be a traitor. And we’ve got to insist he keep our secret, for my… for the sake of the children – the children of the county. This would be such a scandal. No one would want all the children to hear about something that would sound like an adultery. An adultery that might have led to… so sordid a death.”

“You’re so right there. Harley would surely not want a scandal.”

“Surely not,” agreed Tim as he shook his head, again realizing how reckless and foolish he had been to ever have come here.

“And we’ll tell Harley that nothing happened… between us.

“Of course. It would have been a grave sin.”

“Indeed it would,” she said as if she had just come to realize it. She turned to look briefly at Lanny. His head had sunk so low it was against the floorboards. “But… but that’s all the more reason for Harley to want to keep it a secret.”

“It is.”

“But now you’ve got to be out of here before anyone comes. And it’s settled, isn’t it? We’ll tell the truth to Harley and we’ll lie to all others.”

“Yes,” said Tim, turning to her and taking her hand. “And it’s really not the telling of lies, is it? It’s just a calculated misstatement, but for a higher purpose. And that means that it’s not the bearing of false witness, is it? Not when it’s all for a greater good.”

“That is so very true! We can tell an utter falsehood with a clean conscience because we know it’s for the best, for the children!”

“And they’re what matter most.”

“Indeed, we’ve always got to think of the children,” said Alice as she started to get up. “Now… there’s blood on our hands, isn’t there.”

“And my sleeve too, likely,” said Tim, looking at his coat. But it’s so dark a color, it hardly shows.”

“There’s more on mine but that’s to be expected. Here, wash your hands in this,” she said, pointing to a tub. I was just washing out some rags. Hurry!” she demanded as he scrubbed away at his sleeve with a rag.

“I’ll ride you over. We still don’t know who’s out there.”

“No, I suppose we don’t.”

“That’s enough. We’ve got to go.”

“We do,” she said as she went for her cloak. “I’ll go home a-wailing like a babe and then you can go to Harley’s.”

The moonlight was bright on the new snow, letting them make a quick trip. No one else seemed to be about. When the dogs started barking Alice slipped off, wished Tim luck and ran to the house, sobbing. Tim pulled the horse around and started in the direction of Harley’s, walking it at first to keep its hooves quiet. It was only then that he realized that the sky might not have cleared. If the moon had not been out to light his way he would have been forced to stay with Alice and Lanny’s corpse. And surely someone would have seen me leave in the morning, he told himself. And still, Alice might, at any time, tell all to a friend who will tell others. What an absolute fool I’ve been!

Chapter 25

Always dwelling on murder.

The barking of dogs at Harley’s farm finally relieved Tim of his self-hatred. One of the boys came out to meet him with a lantern.

“I’ve something to tell Mister Murphy,” said Tim quietly after climbing off. “It’s to do with his committee work.”

The boy said “Yes sir,” went back to the door and stuck in his head. “Mister Harley, sir,” he said, just loud enough.

“Good evening Tim,” said Harley when he came out, pulling a cloak round his shoulders. “I’m just on my way out to check on the barn. Why don’t you come along and then we can come back for a hot cup of beer.” The boy handed him the lantern and returned to the house. Tim led the horse and they walked in silence.

In the barn Tim described the day’s events, with emphasis on Bessie’s concern, on the threat faced by Alice, and about how she felt the killer was likely Ozzy.

“Well well,” said Harley.

“And Alice is hoping,” said Tim, “that you’ll not tell anyone about my being there. Not even the committee. So there’s no risk of a scandal. To protect the innocent children who might imagine that more happened than did.”

“And to protect the two of you, especially,” said Harley. “I thought I’d told you not to go back there.”

“Yes… ah… you see, Bessie begged me. She was so worried. She said Ozzy was certain that she’d been beaten. But… well with Lanny in so vile a temper. Crazed, really he is… he was. And… well… then I couldn’t get it out of my head and… I thought I could just talk to him a bit and get him thinking about how it’d not be in his own best interest to… go on like that… beating her.”

“Well,” sighed Harley, “poor Bessie hasn’t been in her right head either.”

“I suppose not.”

“It was a courageous thing for you to attempt,” said Harley as he shook his head. “Lanny’s a big man, and he’s got a temper. And it sounds like he’d been about to…

“That’s what we’d been thinking.”

“And neither you nor Alice,” asked Harley, “can guess who stabbed him?”

“Well… no, not for sure. It was most likely Ozzy.”

“Yes,” sighed Harley.

“And I’ve got to come up with an explanation for Dorothy about where I’ve been. I was thinking that I could say that I was helping you with committee work. Which is partly true, now. The committee would want to know about this sort of a thing, wouldn’t it?”

“I could say that you came here with information of interest to the committee and leave it at that.”

“That’d be so good of you. They’ll likely not have told Dorothy about the horse being gone. Not unless she came out and asked about it. They’re all trying not to worry her unnecessarily.”

“And, of course, Dorothy knows we’re fighting a war. And she’s suspecting that her children will be better behaved with the two of you around to keep them from bickering, out of respect for guests. She’s a wise woman and she knows that, when you don’t want to hear the answer, it’s best not to ask the question.”

“I hope so.”

“Well… maybe you’d best be on your way while the moon’s still up.”

. . . . .

“Where were you?” asked Sadie the next morning when they were inside the barn with their violins. When Tim had arrived back, the night before, everyone was still before the fireplace doing handy work while listening to Ozzy read from a book about new ways of crop rotation used in Holland. Tim had apologized and said he had gone to tell something to Harley that he thought the committee ought to know about. At first they had responded to this with silence, but then Dorothy said that, during time of war, it’s all the more important to keep on the good side of local authorities.

In the barn, Tim was still feeling that he ought to keep up his effort to conceal his activities. “I’d information that I thought Harley ought to hear, and…”

“Tim!” said Sadie in an impatient tone.

“Ah… does Dorothy know that I’d taken a horse?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see her leave the house. When you’d been gone a while I told her you’d been wondering about something you’d been reading in a military book that you’d borrowed from Denny, and I thought you’d probably gone to ask Harley about the powers of county militia captains, and of how they’ll so often conflict with the duties of a county committee of safety.”

“That’s a good one.”

“She didn’t seem bothered about it. She just rolled her eyes heavenward. Did you see Harley at all?”

“I did, and if Dorothy asks he’s just going to say that I’d come to tell him something that I thought he’d want to know about. That’s all.”

“And that’s all that happened last night?”

“We just talked a bit and…”

“Tim, I know you’re lying.”

“Ah… well… uh…”

“You went back, didn’t you?”

“Where?”

“What happened this time?”

“What happened to who?

“Tim!”

Tim looked away, pressed a fist to his forehead, and then motioned her to follow him to the far corner. In a quiet voice he told her most of what he had told to Harley.”

“And you were there alone with her?” she asked, her eyes now dark with anger.

“Well… not for long.”

“Not for long? You allowed another man’s wife to invite you into her house when she was alone? A pretty young girl that drinks like a sailor and that you’ve been making cow’s eyes at ever since the day you met her? What were you thinking! How could you be so…”

“I hadn’t meant to! I hadn’t… I figured Lanny would be there! I thought I could talk some sense into him!”

“Not so loud!” Sadie hissed as she looked back. “You thought that Lanny would listen to you? Three days after he’d accused you of trying to kill him!”

“But… Bessie said that he thinks highly of me and…”

“And you believed her?”

“Well…”

“You’re just lucky you aren’t dead. It sounds like the killer saved your life.”

“I suppose…”

“And now Lanny’s murdered when you were there and when you’ve motive enough to have done it yourself.”

“No! Well… she and I are both going to tell of bandits. I mean, she’ll tell of bandits. I won’t say anything to anybody. Except you… and Harley. And she’s going to tell of being raped by all three of them!”

“Raped?”

“That’s what she said she want’s to do! To protect me and to protect herself too. It’ll make it the more believable. What woman would tell of such a humiliation if it weren’t true? And she’ll tell Dorothy that her son died bravely trying to protect her from whig bandits. It’ll all work out nicely!”

“Will it?”

“And she’ll have to protect me too, if she wants to protect herself from a scandal. She’ll have to keep it secret forever.”

“You hope she will.”

“Why wouldn’t she?”

“She’s a drunkard, for one thing.”

“Well… and… and she said she won’t tell anybody any details, to avoid getting her story muddled. If they try to question her she says she’ll weep and beg them to leave her alone.”

“And you think everybody’s going to believe her?”

“What woman would tell of such a thing if it weren’t true?”

“Well, her obviously! And you think she’ll be able to prevent herself from some day telling the real story to her dearest friend?”

“But! Hasn’t she as much to lose as I do! Whether she gets to both keep the farm and marry Willy Wilson will depend on her keeping quiet!”

“Self-interest isn’t always an adequate guard against stupidity.”

“But! Bessie said she’d been beaten! I couldn’t just…”

“You could have told Harley and left it at that. You shouldn’t even have done that much! It’s a family affair! You should have advised Bessie to go tell Harley!”

“Well… I…”

“And you shouldn’t have told me about it now. It’s nothing I needed to know. Who are you going to tell next? Are you going to go bragging to every… ”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have insisted that I tell you!”

“Just don’t you go telling Denny. He may have hated Lanny but he probably loves the Sweet family reputation.”

“I wouldn’t tell him! I won’t tell anybody!”

“And you shouldn’t be aiding him in his adulterous visits to the Bass farm.”

“I didn’t… I don’t… we don’t know that…”

“So,” said Sadie as she held up her hand to stop him, “who do you suppose it was who did it?”

“Well… maybe the rider I’d seen on the way over. Alice suspected it was likely Ozzy, because he has motive enough. And he’s always dwelling on murder, she says.”

“It was more likely Denny. He went off somewhere after you left. And he was out for a good while.”

“Was he?” asked Tim. “While I was gone? For how long?”

“Long enough to ride six miles, cut his brother’s throat and then be back again for supper. But it could have been one of his visits to the Bass farm too.”

“Did Able Bass come past?”

“How am I supposed to know!”

“So… that could maybe...”

“Ozzy’d gone somewhere too,” Sadie said reluctantly.

“He did?” asked Tim, his eyes lighting up.

“But not right at the same time. Just afterwards.”

“And they both took a horse?”

“I don’t know,” said Sadie with a shrug. “I was in the house, working.”

“So the two of them could be acting together.”

“Not likely when they hate each other.”

“Did he…” but before Tim could respond she held up her hand to stop him. Outside they could hear the sound of a horse’s hooves.

Would Tim and the boy have said “Mister Harley” instead of “Master Harley”? At this time the term master, meaning either “employer” or “head of the household” was spelled and pronounced in four ways: master, mister, muster and miester. A person of lesser rank in society would usually address his master as “sir.”

Chapter 26

If he gets too friendly.

“I fear I’ve bad news,” said Albert Surrey in his shy way. Alice’s father had just arrived at Dorothy’s and, as he spoke, he pulled off his grey woolen scarf and mitts and handed them to Calee. The dogs came to sniff him, but obediently stayed a few feet back. “It… it happened just last night,” he said, but then stopped, his black tricorn hat halfway off his balding head. He had noticed Tim and Sadie coming in the door and was wondering about the looks on their faces.

“Come sit down,” said Dorothy as she put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s a cold wind this morning. Calee, heat up some beer.”

“It is a cold day,” he said, while following her to the fireplace.

“What’s happened?” she asked.

“Ah… bandits, it was,” said Albert, searching for words. “Deserters, probably. It’s… It’s Lanny, I fear. He’s… passed away, poor fellow. He was trying to defend Alice, but…”

“He’s dead?” asked Dorothy.

“Yes. Yes, he is.”

“What do you mean, ‘trying to defend Alice’?”

“They were bandits. He was defending his home, and Alice, and…”

“And he was killed?”

“He was, yes, he… It was in front of his home. He didn’t suffer though. Stabbed, he was, in the throat. It couldn’t have taken long.”

“And Alice?”

“They spared her… life. And let us thank the Lord for that. She’ll be well enough, eventually… likely. Only a bad scare, I suppose. Willy and the others are out trying to track them down but with the wind, the snow was drifting, so… Alice said that they’d come just after sundown, last night. It was just the two there, her and Lanny. And there were three of them. And they could have ridden off under the moon, couldn’t they. For it was clear most of the night. They could be halfway to Albany by now, maybe further.”

“Yes, indeed they could.”

“It would have been quick, thankfully. There was a lot of blood on the snow. Alice said he seemed to know that he was dying and that he was… prayerful. And she said she couldn’t stop the bleeding.”

“She’s no idea who they were?” asked Dorothy.

“None. She said they might have followed him back from Nat Willis’s place. He’d gone there with his dogs, after a runaway.”

“Oh, he didn’t!”

“He was getting restless, I suppose. Hadn’t been out long. Home again by sunset. And then they arrived, three of them. At first, they were asking for a meal and a place to roll out their beds. He advised them to go a bit further and try Ebb Hammond, just down the road. Well, they said that they’d just end up lost in the dark and they started making demands. Lanny went outside to point the way and told them they’d have no trouble at all. She couldn’t hear all that was said though, and of course she’s quite upset. Lanny got stern with them, as he’s a right to. And then… well… push came to shove, as they say. There was some sort of a struggle and cursing. And then… well...”

“The scoundrels!” said Dorothy as she shook her head.

“Yes… well… they left Lanny there, on his hands and knees and they came back to the house. He was able to get up and follow them in but... he was bleeding so fast. He collapsed, once inside. Then one pulled him to the wall and propped him against it… so he could… watch, I suppose. They… well… then they looked around and found some coins and… and then they rode off. It’s strange though. They left a horse in the barn. In a rush to get away, I suppose.

“And Alice?” asked Dorothy.

“She walked home.”

“They didn’t do anything to…”

“Well… ah… she’ll be well again, eventually, I’m sure. Just a bad scare is all. She’s a strong girl. We went back there and she came along with us, though she didn’t have to, of course. She insisted. And we cleaned up. A lot of scrubbing and scraping but it’s all clean now, like nothing had ever happened. We even pulled up floorboards to get to… where blood had dripped through. And we’ve got him all washed and wrapped up in a sheet, on a plank. Alice wants to stay there and she wants the wake there too. In their home, she says. We tried to persuade her to come back and bring him. But… she’s bound and determined, so… But we’ll be there with her. Everything’s been cleaned up and we’ve candles burning. We’ve some black clothes to put her in. She got some sleep, after a while.”

 “I’d best be over to see her then,” said Dorothy. “I’ll stay there if she wants me to.”

“I think she’d like that. She’s mentioned you… more than once. She’s concerned about how you’ll take it, after losing Elijah and then Stephen. She wants to… well she’s wanting to comfort you, I suppose.”

“Oh, the dear.”

“And the rest of you too,” said Albert, turning to the others. “She wants you all to come over. Though… maybe not all right away… not all at once. One or two at a time. She’s a bit… addled… but… but that’s only to be expected, isn’t it?”

.   .   .   .   .

“You’re to be an aunt,” said Ozzy to Bessie, later that morning, when he got back with the horses and sled. He and Denny had escorted Dorothy and Cassie over, and Alice had wanted them to stay for something to eat. “By next April, she’s thinking.”

“Alice is with child?”

“With child, indeed.”

“And by April,” said Bessie with arithmetic in her voice.

“And she’s saying she’s sure it’ll be a boy, and that he’ll look just like his father. Just like her ‘dear Lanny’.”

“Well,” said Tim with a forced smile, “that’s good news, then.” 

“Mom seems pleased,” said Ozzy with a shrug. “She was trying to maintain her sorrow but… you can tell. She begged Alice to move in here, but the girl’s bound and determined to stay. Mom even offered to lend Cassie to her.”

“Oh, how kind,” said Bessie, with a resentful tone. She and Stephen had not received a similar gift and the girl they hired did not know half as much.

“Yes, and it’s a comfort knowing that he died defending her. And Alice said that he stood up to them like a true soldier – against three big men. Had the one not decided to stab him then… all might have gone well.”

“He died fighting, then,” said Tim. “A good way to die.”

“Better than most,” said Ozzy, “if you have to choose. She’s saying she thinks they were whig deserters. Though she’s not sure. She said they called him a ‘tory’. Denny and Willie are trying to follow their tracks.”

“Lanny was fighting for King and stable government then,” said Tim with a half-smile. “That’ll please your mother, won’t it?”

“It will. But the bandits could have just been just saying that to throw us off track.”

“Let’s not suggest that to Mom,” said Bessie.

“It’s coming along,” said Harley, out in the barn, later that morning. He had just arrived to hear Tim and Sadie practicing a new tune.

“It’s for the funeral,” said Tim. “Dorothy’s asked for it. It’s about a man who died defending his wife.”

“Defending his wife?” Harley said as he crouched down to warm his hands over the cauldron filled with hot coals. “You more often hear a song about a man who killed his unfaithful wife.”

“You do. Ah… I should tell you,” said Tim to Harley, after a glance at his sister. “Sadie knows what happened. I told her.”

“Did you?” asked Harley with a tone of disapproval. “And do you think she can keep quiet about it?”

“Yes!” huffed Sadie. “And Tim says he’ll not tell anyone else.”

“No, I won’t,” said Tim as he looked down.

“So,” sighed Harley, “we still don’t know who killed him, and we don’t know whether any of the Sweets are in league with the enemy, and we still don’t know who brained Lanny, either in the barn or on the hunt, or whether somebody tried to poison him. It’s one week ago today that it all started and there’s still nothing that we know for sure.”

“He still could have just climbed a tree and fallen,” sighed Sadie.

“Well… maybe,” said Harley with a shrug. “Remember Ozzy said there were no signs of anyone climbing a tree. And, I have heard elsewhere that Ozzy may himself be the origin of the rumors about Lanny.”

“But do you believe it?” asked Sadie.

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe he just passed them along. Everybody’s suspicious of everybody these days.”

“Ozzy did hate him,” said Tim. “Even Alice says so. And he’ll now be in line for a third of the estate.”

“And Denny too!” insisted Sadie.

“And Bessie, likely,” said Harley. “Depending upon the will. And with rumors going around about Lanny being a traitor… well, there’s surely more than one man who’d not regard the killing of a traitor as a sinful act, since ours is a sacred cause. Someone could have decided to eliminate a threat to our blessed liberties. We are at war, after all, and not everyone will adhere to a narrow interpretation of the Doctrine of a Just War.”

“But,” said Sadie, “wouldn’t it have been more likely that Denny, or maybe Ozzy, would have preferred to try scare him off – all the way to Canada?”

“But that would only deliver him into a loyalist regiment,” said Tim.

“And,” said Harley, “Denny’s shown that he has nerve enough to kill.”

“In battle,” insisted Tim.

“Yes, but there’s many who can’t kill, even in a battle.”

“Well,” sighed Sadie, “Tim and I are likely going to be here the whole winter and we’ll surely hear things said. They are both talkative sorts – boastful sorts.”

“Yes,” nodded Harley. “Yes, that’s likely to be so. To a pretty girl. But more important than their innocence of the crime of murder is the threat they might pose as tory spies. Whether they can be trusted by the Committee. So, Sadie Euston, what I’m wanting you to do, is to encourage them both to talk, and I think that you’ll have the greatest advantage with Ozzy. Would you do that for your country?”

“Um… well… of course.”

“Now don’t press for it. Just offer the mildest of encouragement and wait for it to come naturally.”

“Of course.”

“Who’s in the house right now?” asked Harley.

“Ozzy and Bessie,” said Tim. “And Calee. Dorothy took Cassie over to help Alice with the wake.”

“And Denny is out following tracks with Willy. Good. Now… what I’m thinking,” said Harley slowly, “is that a sudden death in the family might leave Ozzy a bit rattled, even if he doesn’t regret the loss of Lanny. And it would be especially so if he actually has been aiding the enemy. And, of course, if he did the dastardly deed. So, he might be inclined to drink too much and… well, today could be our best opportunity to hear him say more than he ought to.”

“I am sure,” drawled Tim, “that it won’t be long before he’s out here to work his charms upon Sadie.”

“Tim!” snapped Sadie. “It could just as easily be Denny! Or neither of them! And Denny has certainly succeeded in working his charms upon you!”

“We hope that they’re both innocent,” said Harley to Sadie. “And we’re wanting to allow them both an opportunity to prove their innocence, and to prove their patriotism as well, to regain our full trust. So, Sadie my girl, the next time Ozzy is practicing his charms, you should say things that’ll make is sound like you share Dorothy’s concerns about the woeful condition we’ve been led into by our protests over taxes. Say the same sorts of things that Dorothy’s been saying. Talk about how you hate the war. Only don’t say too much. You don’t want to make him suspicious.”

“Well, I do hate the war,” said Sadie.

“We all hate war,” muttered Tim.

“Of course, we do,” said Harley as he gave Tim a sharp look and then turned back to Sadie. “Now, Ozzy has seen what his sister and mother have been going through and he’ll expect the same from you – feelings that are strong and sometimes confused. Just make it sound like the death of Lanny has frightened you. And, of course, even more so, the humiliation of poor Alice. Ozzy will be agreeing with whatever you say. And then he might come out with something that will either betray his patriotism, or betray… something less desirable. If he defends the cause of liberty then he’ll regain our trust and he’ll have you to thank for it. By doing this you could allow him the opportunity he needs to clear his name. And afterwards I’ll tell him that I’d instructed you to try to deceive him, and that I’d threatened to have both you and Tim exiled from the county.”

“I’ll try my best,” said Sadie after a pause.

“But remember,” cautioned Harley, “don’t try too hard. Just make it seem like you’re upset, just as you ought to be after hearing such news. Just as we all ought to be.”

“I am upset!”

“All the better,” said Harley with a kindly smile. “Now, if he seems to sympathize with your dismay over all the sorrow and suffering that the ‘cause of liberty’ has led us to, then say something about how you wish you could do more to make a contribution to the ‘cause of stable government’. Complain about how, because you’re a girl, you’ve nothing to do but stand by the sidelines and do nothing. Say that, since Dorothy has to pay taxes, then the value of the work you do for her, in exchange for your keep, will go, in part, to support the rebels. Make it sound like you’re not at all pleased with that.”

“I can try.”

“And if he…. if he turns out to be more of a tory than we’d hoped, then ask if he has any means of passing along a letter to the British, in Canada. I can get you a sealed letter. I’ve one with me and there’s nothing written on the outside.”

“Well,” huffed Sadie. “I doubt that he’ll…”

“If he refuses,” said Harley, “and if he seems disappointed to learn that you’re a traitor, then I’ll tell him that I put you up to it, just to test him – so that he could prove his honesty. I’ll tell him that you’d no option other than to obey the direct order of a committeeman. After all, you’re a newcomer to Tryon County and you’re hoping to stay here the winter. He’ll not resent your obeying my order. He might think you timid for not standing your ground but… well your weakness may just make you the more desirable in his eyes.”

“Well,” said Sadie, sounding both annoyed and embarrassed, “I doubt he’ll be in the mood to flirt today.”

“He’s not grieving the loss of Lanny, I’m sure of that, so he might be. And we’ve got to test him. If he’s as honest as you hope, then this is his chance to prove it. If he does, it will open opportunities for him that would otherwise remain closed.”

“I suppose so,” said Sadie.

“But if he is the killer,” protested Tim, “then this will put Sadie in danger.”

“Tim!”

“Maybe it will,” said Harley with a shrug, “but we’re a nation at war, aren’t we? We’ve all to do our part.”

“Well,” huffed Tim, “wars aren’t meant to be fought by girls.”

“Are you just afraid,” asked Sadie with a superior tone, “that he’ll prove his innocence beyond any doubt?”

“Tim,” said Harley, with his hand up to stop his comeback, “I want you to go to the house now. Say that Sadie’s still practicing, but that you needed a break from it. If you can, speak to Ozzy alone. Say that she’s quite shaken by it all. If he’s the charmer you say he is then he’ll want to come out to try to calm her fears. I’ll go get the letter. Sadie, you hide it… above a beam,” he said, looking at the ceiling.

“Or behind the ladder,” suggested Sadie, pointing.

“Even better,” said Harley. “Then I’ll hide myself behind here,” he said, pointing to a stall occupied by two cattle. “That’ll be close enough to hear anything louder than a whisper. And that way I’ll be close enough if he gets too friendly,” he said with a reassuring smile to Tim.

Chapter 27

He’ll show us his real stripes.

 “You’re letting him go out there alone?” asked Bessie when she came up behind Tim. He was at the door watching Ozzy on his way to the barn. When Tim had told him that Sadie was still practicing in the barn, Ozzy had thought he could offer some reassuring words.

“Well… ah… I….” Tim stammered.

Bessie waved off his answer and stepped past him. Tim hesitated and then followed. 

“But Bessie, I doubt that…”

“He’s a man and he’s a Sweet.”

“Yes,” said Tim when he caught up, just after they saw Ozzy go through the door at the front of the barn. “But… maybe we should just watch him. He might actually mean well.”

“You think so?” asked Bessie as she slowed her pace. “Yes, perhaps. Give him enough rope to hang himself.”

“We could go through the cowshed and listen in.”

“We could,” said Bessie. She ran the last few steps around the side of the barn to a door into the attached structure. An animal would often move about, making noise, so it was easy to sneak through the passage to the main building. Partitions separated stalls, allowing them to come close enough to hear anything said.

“It’s coming along,” they heard Ozzy say.

“It’s hardly music for a funeral,” complained Sadie. She was sitting on a stool with her violin. “I hope no one will be offended.”

“Well, there’ll always be someone who’s offended by something. It gives them the will to go on. But they’ll all know that Dorothy asked for it. We’ll make sure of that. And the request of a grieving mother is sacred.”

“I suppose it is. I was wondering though. Did the bandits even know who Lanny was? They might not have heard any rumors. Alice says she’d never seen them.”

“He’s been around,” said Ozzy with a shrug. “And they could have been informed by those who sent them. They could have been sent to frighten him off, and then things just got out of hand. They’d have to be scoundrels to take the job, though, and surely deserve to hang.”

“And especially if they truly are patriots.”

“Yes, they ought to know better.”

“And,” sighed Sadie, “it’d not be the first time that a wrongful act was committed by men claiming to be patriots.”

“Sadly, no.”

“Wicked men can join either side.”

“Indeed.”

“And there’s so much that has been happening that is vile and hateful.”

“There is,” said Ozzy in a soft voice as he took another stool to sit close by her.

“I hate this war. There’s too much… brutality.”

“They’re saying it’ll likely be over soon.”

“We can only pray.”

“Yea, indeed,” said Ozzy in a tone of deep reverence.

“And I fear that your mother won’t be the first to lose faith with the cause of liberty. She was saying to me that there was a time, not long ago, when men could debate the great issues of the day, and speak their conscience without fear of what violence might come to them. And now, all must declare their hatred for tories, just to protect their property from seizure.”

“And to keep themselves out of jail.”

“And is there any end in sight?” asked Sadie, standing up. “It was supposed to be a short war, and then we’d have our ancient rights again and things would all be back to how they’d been... How’s the war ever going to end with both sides still looking strong enough to prevail?”

“It will end someday,” said Ozzy, standing up. When he did this Sadie sat back down again.

“We’ll just have to wait.”

“Wait and pray,” he agreed, as he sat down beside her and put his hand on her shoulder, just for a moment. “Men grow tired of war.”

Sadie looked up and saw a twinkle of romance in his eye. She looked down again. “Yes, wait and pray,” she sighed, leaning towards him so that their shoulders touched. “I just wish I could do more than that. I feel so helpless. You men get to act, but we just get to wait and pray.”

“And to work. And doubt it not, Sadie Euston, your work is of great value. Music warms our hearts and gives us strength to go on.”

“My work? All my stirring of pots only helps Dorothy to pay taxes to the new government of the ‘State’ of New York – money to go to the committees and to the militia. A portion of my labor will go to buy guns. My work will feed the flames of hatred, and the maiming and killing will go on and on. I’ve blood on my hands!”

“Well, but what can we do? ‘Give onto Caesar what is Caesar’s’” said Ozzy, quoting the Bible. “We can only go on hoping and praying, and maybe some opportunity might come along to give us the power to act. But when? And what kind of opportunity? And are ordinary men like me really so much more powerful than women? Sure, I marched into battle at Oriskany and I held a rifle but I really never made any personal choice to do so. I was only doing what everybody else was doing. According to the law I’m a soldier in the militia whether I volunteer or not, and that means I have to follow orders, just to stay out of jail. And to avoid being called a coward.”

“Yes, you are so right!” said Sadie with an angry voice. “The weak are tools in the hands of the strong. And the strong are so often just out to serve themselves. Think of the fortunes some are making, supplying the army. Another battle will be fought next spring, and then another and another! A dozen of them! And my stupid brother is set to go off and fight like the fool he is. I’ll likely lose him and likely you as well! And all I want is… is stable government.”

“You and my mother both.”

“Well isn’t she right!” said Sadie, looking into his eyes. “What will come of all this… ‘liberty’? Is it liberty that we’ll get in the end, or will it be a tyranny more harsh than any we’ve known? And do our men have liberty now? Can men speak their minds? Aren’t we all just getting accustomed to a complete denial of our liberties? The liberties we had up until two years ago? Almost three years?”

“It’s been a long war.”

“We keep hearing about the feuding between the generals and the Congress. Will George Washington eventually get so impatient with them that he’ll name himself Lord Protector?”

“It might happen.”

“If only I could do something!” Sadie groaned, grabbing Ozzy’s sleeve with both hands. “I am brave but what can I do? There’s nothing a girl can do.”

“Well, my dear… ah… there might be, someday… someday soon. I can assure you that you and my mother are not the only ones who dream of a return of stable government. And isn’t that what we all want, in the end?”

“But what about those who want the war to go on and on, for the profit it brings them? Think of what the gunsmiths must be earning! It’s been three years of war that we’ve had to put up with and so many have died and so many have suffered. I’m sick of it! I just want it to end! Is the paying of unjust taxes such a burden that… Oh, I don’t know!”

“My mother may be wiser than the rest of us,” said Ozzy with a shrug.

“She is! She can see through all the… fine speeches and all the… ‘patriotic’ songs. A wise woman, she is truly.”

“It would be such a blessing to have the old days back,” sighed Ozzy as he picked up a piece of straw and threw it into the cauldron of hot coals. It smoked for a moment and an orange flame rose up. “But what can we do? We’re little fish in a big pond.”

“Oh Ozzy! I’d so like to have a chance to do something.”

 “Well… well as chance might have it,” said Ozzy with a half-smile and a glance one way and then the other. “There is more that you and I actually could do – those who are willing to take a risk to further the cause of stable government. And, my dear, I might be able to empower you to do more – very much more. Information is gold in time of war, and over the next few months you will no doubt hear things said – things repeated by women. Things told by militia officers and committeemen to their wives. Things that they aren’t supposed to repeat. And were you to learn of something that could help, I could… pass it along.”

“To Canada?” whispered Sadie, her eyes bright with excitement.

“Yea, and on to the red-coated general himself.”

“So,” said Sadie with a grin, “we’re both tories, then. Oh Ozzy, I knew you were a… a real man! I’m so proud of you! I knew it wasn’t just your mother who had sense enough to… grasp the obvious. I think there must be lots of good people who are now willing to… hazard a risk. People who are waiting for a chance.”

“Indeed, my dear, I think there are. Good folk who are tired of being held in submission by a passel of committeemen and self-styled patriots.”

“Oh, Ozzy, if only you could persuade Tim to abandon his foolishness.”

“Sadie, you and I have the whole winter to work towards that goal. Of course, Tim will still have to come out and drill with the militia, but maybe he’ll at least be content with that and… well the war’s likely over around here anyways. But we’ll have to go at it slow. We’d not want him informing to Harley on us, would we?”

“Oh! That Harley! Those committeemen think themselves so high and mighty!”

“They’ll receive their reward in the end. Just as the two of us have seen the light of reason, so others have. And more will. And once peace is restored to the land, then you and I will rise up, while Harley and his sort will fall low.”

“I am sure that you will rise,” said Sadie as she gazed into his eyes. “I can see it in you. I could from the start.”

“But for now,” said Ozzy with a modest look downwards, “the two of us will watch and wait, and we’ll listen to what others say, and we’ll coax them to say more. And when we learn something that might be valuable…”

“I’ve something already!” whispered Sadie while getting up and going to reach behind the ladder for the letter. “Could you get this to Canada?”

“But... ah… what is it?”

“I brought it with me. Tim and I went up to Saratoga when they’d all the prisoners still there, before they marched them off to Boston. It was given to me by a woman who said she was afraid to keep it. She said it has to get to General Carlton, in Quebec. Can I entrust it to you?”

“Well… yes… of course.”

“And she said they will surely reward the man who places it in the hands of the general. Are you going to carry it there yourself?”

“Well… it’d take three weeks to cross the mountains but… certainly I could go along with the next courier. They’re always coming and going, with information.”

“Oh, praise be!” whispered Sadie. “Good for you, Ozzy Sweet!” she said as she handed it over. The red seal had no insignia that would reveal its origin. “Now, the woman told me that the man who got it to them would come back with silver. And surely, they know what they need to do to keep up the supply of information. And for sure, if you don’t ask to be paid, then they won’t pay you. And they can afford it. They’ve got bags and bags of silver. And you’ll be taking grave risks, so you’ll truly deserve to be well paid.”

“Well… then I’ll demand a bag of silver for myself and another one for you. For you’ve taken grave risks already. Truly you have.”

“Oh Ozzy!” she whispered. “I knew you were someone I could trust. I knew you were man enough. I could tell!”

“And I have read much in your eyes too, my dove,” he said as he put an arm around her and pulled her close. “And now that we act together, Sadie Euston, now that we’re united in the struggle, I’m sure we’ll be closer in every way.”

“Oh Ozzy!” she giggled. “Don’t tease me. This isn’t the time for false promises.”

“Sadie, I’ve never spoken with greater sincerity,” he said, as he attempted to kiss her.

She pulled away, giggling while he squeezed her tighter. “Really, Ozzy! Someone could come in!”

“They’re busy with other things,” he said as she squirmed to break free.

“Let her go!” ordered Bessie from behind as she slapped her hand down on his shoulder. She had just emerged from behind a partition. Tim and Harley were still in hiding.

“Sister!” gasped Ozzy. His knees buckled and he looked up at her with a weak smile. Sadie got herself loose and ran to hide. “Sister,” he begged, “this is not what you think!”

“‘United in a struggle for stable government?’ After what my Stephen has given up for the cause of freedom? How could you betray his memory with this… treason?”

“I was just… I was only…”

“You were only what?”

“Well… ah… I…”

“I know what I heard. I know exactly what I heard. Every word of it!” she hissed, and she grabbed the letter from his hand and threw it onto the hot coals in the cauldron.

“No!” he cried out, lunging to grab. Anticipating this, Bessie stepped forward to knock him aside. They went down with her arm round his neck, rolling on the mud floor like they were children again. Ozzy managed to pull himself free but the letter was in flames.

“There’s… there’s something,” he said, now furious, “that I need to talk to you about!”

“What? You want to try enlist me in your treason? You want to carry me off to Canada with the rest of the tories?”

“Sister, let us go to the house.”

“I heard every word that came out of the both of you,” she said, looking around for Sadie.

“I hope you aren’t going to go tell on me to mother,” said Ozzy in a lame attempt at humor.

“Perhaps Harley should know about your ‘commitment to the cause of stable government.’ ”

“This is no time to talk, Sister. Our thoughts should be on the memory of our departed brother.”

“I could hardly agree more,” said Bessie, looking like she was deciding whether to spit on him. Instead she turned and started for the door.

“Bessie!” he pleaded as he followed.

Tim had moved further back, having expected them to go to the house. Once they were past, he went into the barn, just as Sadie and Harley were coming out.

“Well!” said Harley when he saw Tim. “I think we can rule out the complicity of Bessie. I’d hoped for more but… I’m satisfied with what we’ve got. Sadie, I thank you for a task well done. You are as clever as you are courageous.”

“A little too courageous,” said Tim. “We’ve now got him thinking that she’s willing to…” He stopped, as if stating it explicitly would be in poor taste.

“I gave him no reason to think any such thing!” said Sadie as she stepped towards him, her hands in fists. Tim took a step back.

“Of course, you didn’t,” said Harley as he moved between them. “He just thinks that you’re another tory, like his mother is. And so long as I know otherwise then it doesn’t matter. I can wait and see if he comes to me to inform on you. If he’s true to the cause of liberty then he was just testing your commitment and he’ll soon be telling on you.”

“That wasn’t all he was testing,” said Tim.

“I gave him no encouragement!” said Sadie as she looked down.

“Didn’t you?” asked Tim. “Since the day that we’ve arrived you’ve been…”

“Stop it! Both of you!” ordered Harley. “I’m trying to think.”

“Just because,” Sadie whispered to Tim, “you’ve been lusting for the body of a married women, you think that...”

 “We’ve got Ozzy thinking you’re a tory,” said Harley. “If he’s a traitor, then he’ll show us his real stripes soon enough. For now, you’ve just got to give him the impression that you’re angry at him for having assumed you were willing to kiss him without a proper courtship. Avoid his eyes for a day or two, until he shows sincere regret. Then recommence the effort.”

“But if Ozzy is the murderer…” started Tim.

“But we don’t know that,” said Harley with his hand up. “And he might come straight to me to inform on Sadie. He might be a traitor and a killer, but he might just as easily be a good and honest patriot who strives for the same goals as we do.”

“My thoughts precisely,” said Sadie with a dismissive glance at Tim. “So, we can now wait and see what he does next.”

“Wait and see?” begged Tim. “But even Bessie thought he posed a threat!”

“But she’s not in her right mind,” said Sadie. “You’ve let Bessie mislead you often enough, haven’t you? She almost got you killed!”

What is a Lord Protector? 124 years before, Oliver Cromwell had assumed the title of Lord Protector of England, which included the right to name his successor. He and his puritan supporters shared many of the goals of American revolutionaries but their effort to bring in fundamental reform ended in a failure that hung like a dark cloud of gloom over the whole American Revolution. 

The puritans had come into power in a civil war that had ended in the beheading of King Charles I, in 1649. In 1660 the dead king’s son was invited home to reign as King Charles II. It had all started with the growing popularity of Christian faith that had arrived with the Protestant Reformation. Then came the crowning of James, King of Scotland, as the new King of England. He was the cousin of the childless Elizabeth I making him next in line. But neither he, nor his son, Charles, had the gift of her charm and charisma. Many suspected that Charles would try bring back the Roman Catholic Church as the official religion, giving its bishops a large share in the administration of government, along with the right to impose taxes and to use brute force to suppress Protestantism. Charles’s opponents were led by a Parliament with a majority of puritans who were strongly anti-Catholic and wanted the powers of King and bishops strictly limited.

In 1642 civil war broke out. Wealthy puritans used military force to protect what they regarded as their ancient rights and freedoms. Oliver Cromwell was a cavalry officer who rose to command Parliament’s army. Religious zeal, along with reforms, like giving promotions for ability rather than family background, made his puritan army unbeatable. When differences arose between Cromwell and Parliament, he used his soldiers to frighten off opponents, and only the most extreme of puritans were left in command of the country. But it all just led to dictatorship, bickering and finally the restoration of monarchy.

Chapter 28

Thou loathsome cur!

“Tim,” said Harley with his hand held up, and looking as if he was deep in thought, “I think it would be best if you were to go pay your respects to the widow-in-mourning.”

“Alice?”

“Yes.”

“Now?”

“Straight away.”

“But… maybe it would be better if I was to go try to reassure Bessie. She’s in the habit of confiding in a boy her age and… well since she, herself, has expressed grave concerns about Ozzy... well… Since she’s now angry at him, she’ll not have someone she can confide in, and that means…”

“No, you need to visit Alice because if you are seen to be staying away from her, there’ll be some who will wonder whether you’ve reason to stay away from her.”

“But,” protested Tim, “we’ve now an excellent opportunity to hear things said...”

“Yes, we do have an opportunity, and Sadie and I will be here to listen. But for now, it would be best for you to go to see Alice.”

“I… well…” stammered Tim, “I could try to gain Bessie’s confidence. I could tell her how she’s…”

“No, Tim,” said Harley in a hardened voice. “It would be best to go to Alice today – to go see her immediately.”

“But…”

“Take one of the horses and stay the afternoon.”

“All right,” said Tim after a pause.

“Well,” said Harley to Sadie as they watched Tim ride away, “likely now’s as good a time as any for you to launch another attack on Ozzy.”

“But… Bessie…” said Sadie, who was going pale.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about her. If she was going to scratch your eyes out, she’d have done it when she caught you in the act of luring her brother into a hangman’s noose.”

“But she’s had time to think about it.”

“And time to sharpen her nails,” joked Harley. “If I hear you cry out, I’ll come running to your rescue. Now, let’s sneak up on them before they’ve calmed down.”

They walked across the farmyard, looking at windows to see if they were being watched. Once close, Harley led her around the side to go to the kitchen door at the back. “I think it’d be best if you went in ahead of me to see who’s in there.”

“Alright.”

“And if Bessie comes at you with the butcher knife…”

“Oh, stop it!” snapped Sadie.

“Ooo, listen to that,” said Harley. They could hear muffled shouting inside. But then it seemed to be coming from outside, from the front of the house. Motioning Sadie to follow, Harley went back a few steps, but stayed out of sight.

“I can take myself home!” shouted Bessie as she walked from the front door.

“But sister!” called Ozzy, behind her.

Harley turned back, creeping slowly to make sure Ozzy did not hear. He pointed, signaling to Sadie to go around to the kitchen door. Inside, they found Calee at work. Harley waved her over, whispered, “Come!” and led the two into the pantry.

“Calee, I need your help with… important committee work. Could you make up an excuse and go away for a while. Say that Dorothy had ordered you to do something.”

“She’ll often send me to look in on old Widow Heaver,” Calee suggested. She was more than willing to assist the committee. Since July, when the Vermont Republic had abolished slavery and given the vote to black men, she had grown in her enthusiasm for the cause of liberty. 

“Good,” said Harley, “Go tell him now. Act like you’d just as soon not go, but you’d received a direct order.”

“Yes sir,” she whispered and went out. She loaded a basket and put her head through the door to tell Ozzy where she was going and to remind him about a meat pie she had left on the table. She slammed the back door to make sure he knew she was gone.

“Is Bessie here?” Sadie asked fearfully, a few minutes later.

“No,” said a drunk-sounding Ozzy, “she’s stomped her feet off to her home. We’re safe for now.”

“At least you could take her on in a fair fight.”

“Just barely,” laughed Ozzy. “She knows a few tricks she’s learned from our tawny-skinned sisters.”

“She’d wrestle Indian women?”

“She’d wrestle anybody. She was barely a female before her coming out. She’s killed more deer than I ever will.”

“Has she?” said Sadie, coming in.

“It’s a shame she wasn’t with us at Oriskany.”

“Well… good for her, then.”

“Come sit down,” he said, patting the bench. “I could tell a few good stories about our Bessie.”

Tim was halfway to Alice’s when he had turned back. The thought of his little sister being used as bait to trap a man as odious as Ozzy Sweet was more than he could tolerate. But, when the house came into view, he noticed Bessie on the far side of a cow pasture, walking towards her home. He made a wide circle around the house to catch up to her without alerting Harley with the sound of hooves.

“Heading home?” he asked when close enough.

“Yes,” she replied, turning to look at him. “Where are you off to now?”

“Ah… I have,” he said as he got down. “I was on my way to visit Alice but I decided I wasn’t yet ready to face a room full of mourners.”

“Well, there’ll be others who will help her mourn in your place. A pretty young widow will always be well pitied. I’m one myself and I’ve long since found it more burden than support.”

“They mean well.”

“They flatter themselves for their saintliness.”

“I suppose.”

“And don’t repeat what I’ve just said.”

“No, of course not.”

“All the attention!” she cursed. “It was suffocating! You know what it kept making me think of. Poor Eliza Hopper. She was barren and her husband ran off west with another woman. She was half crazed with sorrow for the loss of him but hardly anyone came to help bear her grief, though I think she must have grieved far more than I.”

“It’s… a sad thing.”

“Some were even saying it was Eliza’s fault for not being a proper wife. To hear some talk, it was like they thought that a woman could will herself barren out of spite, and that she could just as easily will herself fertile again.”

“It is unfair.”

“But she’s got a new man now, and he managed to get her with child easily enough, so I suppose her husband was at fault. But since she’s still a married woman, they’ve had to go far away, off into Ohio country.”

“You can live in bigamy there?”

“As long as the first one was left behind. They say he’s wanted for murder.”

“Murder?”

“But he might not be guilty of it. No one saw him do it. But they say that, out there, the country’s full of murderers and bigamists. Anything goes in Ohio.”

“Yes, I’ve heard it does.”

“But time heals all wounds, so don’t fret too much for sweet little Alice Surrey. Just remember, it was only a Lanny Sweet that she lost.”

“Well…”

“And she’ll likely marry Willy Williams before long, anyways, and live a better life than she would have with that freak of nature I’ve been forced to call a brother.”

“Ah… well she might.”

“But still, the murder, and rape, might still do her in. To have your husband stabbed to death in front of your eyes while the wedding bed’s still warm, and then to be ravished.”

“Well, actually there wasn’t…” started Tim but he stopped before he revealed knowledge he should not possess. “There wasn’t anything she could have done to save him, so there’ll be no… well… And it must have been an awful shock to you too – what you overheard, just now.”

“What?”

“I was there in the barn too. I’d followed you in. I heard most of what Sadie and Ozzy were saying.”

“Well… let’s neither of us repeat what we heard.”

“It’s really likely nothing. It’s just that Harley thought he could…”

“Harley?”

“Ah… well…” said Tim, looking down.

“Harley thought what?”

“Well… ah… it’s only…”

“What’s got you red-faced? What’s Harley got to do with it?”

“Well… But really… he only wanted to give Ozzy a chance to prove his innocence.”

“Prove his innocence? And why would my brother have to prove his innocence to Harley Murphy? Didn’t he fight at Oriskany like the rest of them?”

“Well…” started Tim but he could say no more.

“And what about your sister?” Bessie asked, stepping closer. “From what Denny’s told me, I can’t imagine either you or Sadie being any sort of a tory. Have you offered your sister as the bait upon which Harley Murphy will prepare his hook?”

“Well…”

“And who’s back in there now?” she asked, pointing back to Dorothy’s house. “Is Harley listening while your sweet little sister is talking treason with my stupid fool brother?”

“Well…”

“Tim Euston! You should be ashamed of yourself! Is she not your sister? Fifteen only? And you’ll abide such a thing as this? Risking her reputation by posing as a traitor!”

“Well… but what with the war and… and what with him being a committeeman…”

“Tim! She is your sister! Your care for her is a sacred trust!”

“But… I’ve come back!”

“No, you’ve not come back! You’re out here following after me. Out here while Harley Murphy is baiting his hook with a sweet piece of meat. And how far is Harley willing to go in his effort to… to prove Ozzy’s innocence?” With this, Bessie turned towards her mother’s house, her hands in fists. Tim brought the horse around and trotted up to her.

“Bessie, I really don’t think…”

“That he’ll let it go too far? Maybe he won’t. But what about her reputation? What about Ozzy’s reputation? He’s drunk on applejack and he’s… a fool. He’s a boy and he’s a Sweet.”

“But surely Harley’s only wish is to allow him to clear away any doubts.”

“And what if he doesn’t? Remember what both she and he had to say, not an hour ago? He’s likely so smitten by your sister, and likely so in the grips of a lust so foul that… that he’ll claim any treason to get his filthy hands upon her. And then what?”

“But what if your brother’s only wish is to demonstrate his honesty by exposing Sadie’s treason, and his own honesty by betraying her to Harley? Harley has no reason to want to defame the Sweet family. You think he’s coming around all the time just to spy on you? He’s probably wanting to win the heart of your mother. You’ve seen how they look at each other! And that means he needs to clear Ozzy’s name because… what with all the talk about…”

“What talk?”

“Well… if…”

“That there’s more than one tory among the Sweets of Tryon County?”

“Well… everybody’s suspecting everybody. And he likely doesn’t believe that, anyways. But they know there’s at least one informant around here, somewhere. Harley just wants to test Ozzy. And me and Sadie have to obey his orders. Don’t we? We’re new here and we’ve got to prove our commitment to the cause. Especially me because if I join up under a cloud of suspicion, then I’ll spend the rest of the war digging ditches and…”

“Oh, so is that it? You’re gambling your sister’s reputation to improve your prospects of making corporal.”

“But if Ozzy does report on her, he’ll raise himself in the estimation of the Committee and…”

“The Committee!” said Bessie as she climbed over a split-rail fence. “I’m sick of hearing about committees! I thought our new state constitution was supposed to do away with all these committees.”

“But at least let’s try to listen to them before you go in. Ozzy might be a better man than you’ve figured him for.” Tim said this after he had caught up again. He had tied the horse to the fence so they could creep up quietly.

“Well…” said Bessie, when she slowed her pace. “I suppose we might try.”

“We could listen at a window.”

“They all squeak like a pig when you try pull them open.”

“Well then…” started Tim.

“We could put the ladder up to the attic window. It’s looser than the rest and big enough to climb through. And the two of them will likely be in front of a roaring fire, giggling and whispering in each other’s ears.”

“But the boards will squeak.”

“They’ll not squeak if you walk along the center beam where the planks meet.”

“You’re sure?”

“We’ve been doing it since we could lift the ladder,” said Bessie, quietly, as they arrived at the house. She looked through wavy glass and, as expected, Sadie and Ozzy were in front of the fire. She got a stepladder from the side of a nearby shed, put it in place and climbed up. Tim waited well back to avoid giving the impression that he was hoping for a peak up her skirt. The window opened with no effort, and Bessie went in first. Tim followed. They took another step along the beam each time Ozzy laughed at one of his own jokes.

“Well honestly,” said Ozzy, “we’ll never know whether he just fell, both times. But if there’s one of us who’s crazed enough to be plotting a murder then... Well, who do you suppose it would be?”

“You!” joked Sadie.

“No no! It would surely be my poor crazed-in-the-head sister.”

“What!” demanded Bessie from above. “How darest thou?”

“Sister!” gasped Ozzy as he rose to his feet. “I… I meant…”

“Crazed-in-the-head, am I?” she asked, while climbing backwards down the steps. “Thou malicious swine!” 

“Sister, you don’t think I spoke in earnest?” he whispered while looking back to see Sadie escape through the door to the kitchen.

“Accuse me of attempted murder, wilt thou? Call me crazed! Insult me behind my back! And me a grieving widow! The widow of a fallen hero!”

“But it’s not what you think!” begged Ozzy, as he fell to one knee.

“So, that’s how you romance your little tory friend? By defaming your own family?”

“Bessie, please!”

“It was you, wasn’t it? It was you who brained Lanny. Both times! Wasn’t it?”

“I did not! I couldn’t! Surely it was Denny, if anybody did!”

“You think it must be Denny but still you accuse me? And behind my back! You spread rumors that will destroy my reputation. And it was you, wasn’t it, who started everybody talking about murder? It was you, as well, who started the talk about Lanny’s treason? You defamed your own brother? It was you who stabbed Lanny, wasn’t it?”

“Bessie, I did nothing of the sort!”

“Who did it, then?”

“I’ve no idea!”

“And why should I believe that? Why should anyone believe anything that comes out of you? I heard your lies, just now, in the barn, didn’t I? You’re no tory! Why all the lies?”

“Bessie, please! I just wanted to gain the favor of Sadie… You must believe me!”

“I’ve believed too many of your lies, thou loathsome cur!” she said as she pushed him aside and went for the door. When she swung it open, she found Denny jumping back to avoid being hit. She called him an eavesdropper as she continued past. Ozzy followed.

What did Bessie mean when she said “I thought our new state constitution was supposed to do away with these committees.” In May of the previous year the Continental Congress, in Philadelphia, had recommended to the “Assemblies and Conventions of the United Colonies” to form “such a government as shall… best conduce the happiness and safety of their constituents.” The Constitution of the State of New York, adopted the following April, allowed for the election or appointment of local, county and state officers. Progress was slow and the Tryon County Committee of Safety was only superseded by the New York State Legislature in February of 1778.

Chapter 29 

You kept stopping her!

“Don’t worry about Ozzy,” said Denny. He had just come into the house and heard a brief explanation. “He was following after her, begging like the dog that he is. And it won’t be long before they’re both in tears and forgiving all. I’ve seen them do it before, and a pathetic sight it is to behold. I’m assuming they didn’t know you were listening?”

“No,” said Harley, “and when he denied any involvement in the attacks on Lanny, he sounded very much like he was telling the truth.”

“And his word can generally be trusted,” said Denny, “when he speaks in deepest earnest to his dearest sister.”

“Did your tracking tell you anything about the murderer?”

“No, there were tracks everywhere going every direction. What Alice tells us could very well be the truth. Willy told me that he’d been close by Lanny’s house, last night. They were coming from Nat Willis’s where they’d gone to hunt down a runaway. He said that he and Lanny had been on their way home, just before sunset. After they’d parted, he’d seen three men on foot. He said he didn’t go close because two of them were armed and he feared having his horse taken from him. And he says he’d heard a shot, not long after, coming from the direction of Lanny’s. He’d hoped that it was just Lanny shooting at a target.”

“Well,” said Harley in a doubtful tone, “I’d have thought that a man with a headache would not be wanting to do any target shooting.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” chuckled Denny.

“How did Willy get himself in on the hunt?”

“He happened to meet up with Lanny and Nat on their way and he tagged along to help out. It wasn’t much of a hunt, though. The boy was hiding in the barn, sulking about a caning he’d got for idleness and backtalk. Their little spaniel had sniffed him out so Lanny’d brought his hounds for nothing. But at least they got to see the boy caned again. Says he put on a real performance.”

“Willy’s supporting Alice’s story then,” concluded Harley.

“Poor Alice,” said Denny with a shrug. “But it might be that it’s all made up and Willy killed Lanny so he could carry off his wife as a trophy. And he might have cut his throat because Lanny had recognized him behind a mask. And then the two young lovers could have made up a story to protect their future marital bliss.”

“That is a possibility too,” said Harley, after a pause.

“But surely,” lied Tim, “it is as she says, and they were tories, or redcoat deserters.”

“Yes, surely it must be that,” said Denny. “Yea, ‘tis a dangerous time to be a woman alone. And she’s insisting on staying there, in the home of her dearest Lanny.”

“But she’ll have the refugees back with her,” said Tim. “She’ll be safe enough with them.”

“Yes, as long as they stay,” agreed Denny, “she’ll face no greater danger than any of us. There’ll be three men, and they’ve rifles. And Alice will have Lanny’s rifle too. And I don’t doubt that the little woman could shoot a man in the heart and eat a meal not long afterwards. Her dad says the refugees are going back as soon as the wake is over and he’s buried. And she could take in more if she wants. They’re still packed in tight at Fort Dayton.”

“And the Committee will pay her the cost of feeding them,” said Harley.

“Old Joe Porter’s at work on the grave. He has a fire going under the big oak and he’ll be back to dig tomorrow. The frost won’t be deep.”

“Good,” nodded Harley. “Well then, I need to be on my way. Committee business a-calling.”

“Tim,” asked Denny, “could you come along to stand guard over another one of our meetings.”

“The watchmen?”

“And this time they’re going to let me bring you inside for introductions,” said Denny with a smile to Harley.

“Yes, yes,” Harley agreed. “It works out well. Poor Able can visit his old mother without having to worry about his young wife.

“I would be honored to do my part,” said Tim, with an “I told you so,” look at Sadie.

“I’ve good news, at last,” said Harley when he was back, later that day. He found Tim and Sadie still practicing. Two barn cats were listening, retreating to the shadows with his arrival. “I was on my way over to Bessie’s and I met Ozzy on his way back home. I asked him how things were and he informed me that you,” he said to Sadie, “were claiming to be a loyalist traitor. He said that you surely were not telling the truth and must have been testing him. I then told him that I knew about it already because the testing had been my plan, and that I’d been there in the barn to hear it all. But I said it with a tone that suggested that I truly believed him to be guilty of treason. Well, at that, he went white and said nothing more – just standing there, looking to one side and then the other. I challenged him with his claim that he’d been willing to carry a letter to General Carlton. Well!” chuckled Harley as he turned to Sadie. “He practically fell to his knees, begging me to believe that he’d only been telling you a story to curry your favor.”

“I knew that,” said Sadie as she looked away.

“But I kept up my pretense and he renewed his entreaties as great tears rolled down his cheeks. Though I suspect that was mostly the effects of a day at drinking applejack. Well, with him in so vulnerable a state, I was able to extract a promise to return to active duty with the militia and to serve three months upriver of at Fort Stanwix, starting on the first day of December. Well, I don’t have to tell you how hard it is to get good men to volunteer for that kind of duty. So, Private Oswald Sweet will spend the long cold winter standing guard and going out on patrol, freezing his toes while hoping that he isn’t picked off by an enemy sniper. All to prove his commitment to the glorious cause. And I don’t doubt he’ll do a good job of it, too. He might earn promotion to corporal and qualify for a nicer grant of land after the war.”

“You believe that he’s innocent?” asked Tim.

“Oh, I think so. To kill a man, you need a motive and more. You need the inclination. I might believe that a Denny or a Willy could kill but I’d never have thought it of him.”

“Who killed Lanny then?” asked Tim. “And who brained him?”

“That is still a mystery. And I suppose we might never know. Unless someone makes a deathbed confession.” As Harley said this, they heard the sound of sleigh bells.

“Someone’s here,” said Tim and he put his violin back in its case. Once outside, they saw that Dorothy was back and Alice with her.

“I thought,” whispered Sadie “that she wouldn’t leave the home of her dear Lanny.” 

“Not so loud,” said Harley. “Let’s go express our condolences. Tim, you say as little as possible.” He led them across the yard to where Alice was appearing to be under the influence of alcohol. They watched her wipe her eyes as everyone said something kind.

“Would you join us for supper?” Dorothy asked Harley, assuming he wanted to stay and hear what Alice had to say. It was still midafternoon so Calee served them hot beer while they talked about the weather. After a long pause in the conversation Tim told Sadie that they ought to get back to practicing.

“What’s she doing here?” asked Sadie as they rosined their bows. Horses and cattle were all out for the fresh air and the barn had cooled.

“She’s a new widow,” replied Tim. “She can do whatever she wants.”

“No, she can not! She’s to do what’s expected of her. And that isn’t going out visiting. What are people who come to pay their condolences going to do? Wait for her to come back? She’s got a duty to discharge.”

“Well…”

“And she’s drunk,” huffed Sadie.

“She’s been through a lot. She saw her husband murdered before her eyes and… and she wants everybody to believe that she was brutally violated. Maybe she’s doing this to make people think she’s been driven to the limit of her endurance.”

“Then a clever girl, she is, indeed.”

“I hope she’s clever. She’s supposed to keep my being there a secret.”

“To protect you from your own foolishness. And if she bursts into tears and tells all, what then? Your lying about your whereabouts will condemn you.”

“I know that,” moaned Tim as he turned away. “And I doubt that Bessie would admit to anything that’ll help me. And neither will Harley, for he’s got higher priorities than me. Doesn’t he? I could be left on my own.”

“Well, if they do hang you,” said Sadie while tucking her violin under her chin, “then at least I won’t have to worry about you getting killed on a battlefield next summer.”

“It’s nothing to joke about,” muttered Tim. They had played the song through when Alice came in.

“It’s sounding good. Dorothy said you’ll be doing it at the graveside. It’s so kind of you.”

“It’s the very least we can do,” said Sadie with a compassionate smile while putting down her violin. “I’ve got to go back for a little while. Keep him practicing, will you? He keeps making mistakes.”

“I’ll try,” said Alice.

“What brings you here?” asked Tim, after Sadie was gone.

“Oh, I couldn’t stay there!” said Alice, her voice breaking. “You can’t imagine what it’s like. Him lying there wrapped in his sheet with coins on his eyes! And people keep coming – all wanting to see me… to see me sob like a babe! And they all keep looking at me as if… as if they want evidence of my guilt.”

“No no no,” said Tim in a gentle voice as he put his arm on her shoulder. “Surely no one suspects anything. And besides, you’re innocent. My being there is the only thing to hide, and it’s not because there’s anything we did that we ought to be ashamed of. We didn’t do anything. Truly, you’re a grieving widow and nothing more. Just because you regretted marrying him doesn’t mean anything. Most women have second thoughts when they’re only just married. And I heard that from a wise old midwife. You’re innocent as a lamb and you must believe it.”

“Oh Tim, if only it were so!” she said as she pressed her forehead against his shoulder.

“It is so! And all women marry for money, in part. I mean… they always take into account the man’s ability to support them and their children. It’s just common good sense. Just because he was killed doesn’t make you any less worthy than any man’s wife. You’re the victim of tragedy – a tragedy that was beyond your control.”

“Oh Tim!” she said, her arms around him and pulling him close. “You are so kind.”

“And surely no one will judge you, even if you stay here the night,” said Tim as he glanced around, worried that someone might come in and see them like that. “They know that you’re young and they believe you’d been violated – grievously. They’ll demand little of you. You saw him killed, after all. You saw him bleed to death. No woman ever sees that. At least not often.”

“Oh Tim, but there’s more! You don’t…”

“No Alice, there’s not more. You’ve been forced to suffer what no girl should ever suffer. And with time, you’ll forget. Soon Willy will be able to come over to visit you and the two of you will be able to go for a walk together. And you’ll be able to confide in him, and that’ll help a lot. ‘Till then, you’ll just have to be patient and remind yourself that you’re innocent, for you couldn’t have altered the events if...”

“But Tim, I’ve been…”

“Alice, Alice,” he said, gently patting her shoulder. “Time, as they say, is the best healer. Just keep yourself occupied and talk to people about anything and everything. Well, not everything. But keep busy. That’ll be what’ll get you through it all. Get to work on making clothes for the babe. The women who visit will offer to help. Think of what all you’ll get done.”

“Stop it!” she snapped, pushing him away. “You just… If you only knew what…

“Alice, please. If…”

“Stop it! Just stop it!” she said in anger. She turned to go back to the house and slammed the door behind her.

“You fool!” said Sadie, coming out of hiding. “She was about to confess.”

“Confess what?”

“How am I supposed to know? You kept stopping her.”

“But I had to say something to…”

“No, you did not!” muttered Sadie as she picked up her violin. “And if she comes back again, then let her talk. Blockhead!

Chapter 30

All in the mind of the man.

“They’ve run off,” said Dorothy Sweet in a defeated voice, two days later when she came through the door to her house. She had just come back from Alice’s.

“Who’s run off?” asked Sadie. She and Tim had been at work for hours.

“Alice and Willy. And Harley says that, by doing so, they’ve all but given him a full confession.”

“To what?” asked Tim.

“To the killing of Lanny. And to the providing of some sort of assistance to the British. He suspects she’s the ‘little woman’. He says he’s been suspecting her all along.”

“Where did they run off to?” asked Sadie, after a short silence.

“He doesn’t know for sure. When we went back, yesterday morning, Alice announced that she ought to give away some of her clothes to the refugees, since she’ll be wearing black from now on. She looked like she was going through her things but she must have been packing. Then she said that she wanted to take it to them herself, so they could thank her personally. I offered to come but she wouldn’t hear of it. I insisted that she at least take Cassie along. She took her but she refused anyone else.”

“Did she seem upset?” asked Tim.

“Yes, but nobody was surprised by that. We were thinking of what she’d gone through. But instead of going home, she and Cassie went to Willy’s – three miles beyond. Cassie says that Alice told Willy’s father that she’d come to ask him about building a shed onto the side of her barn. He said Willy was out with the horses. She and Alice found him and he told her he could come over after the wake, as if he didn’t realize that she had other plans. Alice told him that she needed to get her mind onto other things or lose it altogether. She insisted that Willy come back with her but then, on the way back, Alice told Cassie to go ahead so they could speak in private. After they talked, Willy turned back and Alice caught up to Cassie and told her that he’d gone home. That’s all Cassie could tell, because Alice then ordered her to walk home, saying she had to go back to her mother’s.”

“But how do you know they’ve run off?” asked Sadie.

“Well we don’t, but they’re not at home,” said Dorothy, as she sat down on the bench. “They’ve both been somewhere, overnight. After Cassie was back, I got worried and I sent her to go get Harley. He went to Willy’s parents and they told him that, once Willy was home again, he’d told them he had to help a neighbor find a horse that’d got out. It was only the hired girl who saw him shoving clothing into a bag.”

“Didn’t she suspected anything?” asked Tim.

“She said she felt it wasn’t her business to pry. She could see he was in a state of nerves about something. Alice must have convinced him to take her away. And everybody knows that Willy had been fond of Alice. This morning Harley went to both Willy and Alice’s parents’. Neither Alice nor Willy had been to either house. They’ve either run off or… well it’s not likely to be anything else, is it?”

“Where does he suppose they’ve gone?” asked Tim.

“Off to Canada, to join the rest of the tories. He said he’d been suspecting Alice all along. And he says that, unless a patrol finds them, then they’re surely gone for good.”

“Why had he suspected Alice?” asked Sadie.

“She’s a little woman, for one thing. And she’s a sneaky look about her. And because Lanny had said she takes a particular interest in all things military. And too, because her family has never been strong for the cause. They swore their allegiance to the State only after everybody else was either doing the same, or moving out. They pay their taxes, and her father and the hired man come out for drill. And they marched off to Oriskany when ordered to, but... that’s all. Nothing more than what’s been demanded of them by law.”

“Had he suspected any of Willy’s family?” asked Tim.

“No, but… we all know that little Alice Surrey has a mind of her own. She’s a clever sort who’s always had her nose in a book.”

“Not unlike Sadie,” joked Tim.

“Yes, that’s true,” said Dorothy with a smile to Sadie. “We’d best notify the Committee.”

“But,” said Tim, “he’s not really sure of any of this, is he?”

“No, but… We’ll find that out if they’re caught, or after they’re in Canada. The Committee has informants there, just as they have them here. If she is the ‘little woman,’ then they’re both likely at the house of the man she’s been passing along the information to. Man or woman. So, they’ll likely only be on their way north after a few days – after the Committee has tired of looking for them. Denny says it’s hardly worth trying though, because the new snow has drifted in their tracks. They could be of the same mind and be half way there already.”

“So, they’ve gone into self-exile then,” said Tim.

“Very likely.”

 “But I thought Willy was a good patriot?”

“Well,” said Dorothy with a sigh, “there’s many a boy who just goes along with what his friends do. And remember how broken hearted he looked at the wedding.”

“But Willy doesn’t seem like a man who could commit both treason and a cold-blooded murder,” said Sadie.

“No, he’s not,” said Dorothy with a shrug. “But maybe it was hot-blooded. It might have been a fight, and Lanny’s bigger.”

“And a fight against a man who’s not in his right mind. It’d be a lot of fear on top of a lot of jealousy.”

“Maybe Alice had thought she’d chosen the better man – Lanny – but then realized she’d not. Maybe she thought she could learn to love him, but found she couldn’t. I loved Lanny dearly, just as a mother should, but… his eternal opinions. I’ve seriously wondered whether he could ever keep a wife who wasn’t stone deaf.”

“It could still be bandits that killed him,” said Tim.

“Let’s hope that it was, and that she’s not a traitor, and that she’s just taken a temporary leave of her senses, and that they’re off at a friend’s place, and that Willy just went with her to take care of her and to persuade her to come back.”

“But that’s not likely, is it,” said Tim, after a pause.

“Well,” sighed Dorothy, “Harley says they might do well in Canada. General Carlton is offering generous grants to tories who join the loyalist regiments. Willy could serve until a peace is concluded. And she’ll be put up with other tories. She’s a charmer and she can act like a lady. She could be a lady’s maid to the wife of a colonel. Tories from here, who carried bags of silver away with them, are renting houses from Frenchmen who’ve moved into their barns. She could live in warmth and comfort and make valuable friends.”

“She could,” said Tim in a sad voice.

“And Harley says that the King is likely to hold onto the Frenchmen in Quebec, for they’ve been our sworn enemies since the early days, and they hate our religion as much as we hate theirs. And with the Royal Navy able to sail right up to Montreal, they’d likely have held on to Canada no matter what. For at least that far. Likely farther, because they’ve got most of the Indians allied with them. Willy will get land and… maybe she’ll get them even more land as reward for her services as a “the little woman.” Maybe a lot more, depending on who Alice applies her charms to. Their first few years at the building of a farm in a forest might be hard but… they’ll likely prosper.”

“So long as she cracks the whip over him,” said Tim, remembering what Alice had said.

“And he might be the better off for it,” said Dorothy with a smile. “Well! Well, I am very tired and I need to lie down before supper. And I think the two of you need a rest, too. You both seem tired.”

“It was surely Willy who stabbed Lanny,” said Sadie, after going out to the barn.

“That’s who I thought it was, as soon as I saw him,” said Tim as he got out his violin. “He wore a mask but he had the shape of Willy, and he walked like him – all arms and legs. And if it was him, then it is, in a way, a justifiable homicide, because Alice told me that she believed Lanny was about to kill me. I thought so too, so Willy likely did. He likely fired the shot just to distract him. And then when Lanny went after him then… well he’s bigger and he’d the axe handle. And Willy might have thought that Lanny had recognized him. And too, maybe he’d just gone there because he knew Lanny well enough to be worried for Alice’s sake. The same reason I was there. When they were coming back from seeing the boy caned, Lanny could have said things to taunt Willy and… well they say that when a fight starts then nobody can predict how it’ll end.”

“Why do you feel you need to defend Willy,” asked Sadie.

“Well… I don’t. But it could be self-defense. It’s all in the mind of the man who does the killing, isn’t it? Without a confession then a court would have to ‘infer’ a motive from the actions of the accused.”

“Just as you’re doing now?”

“But they could infer jealousy as a motive – and adulterous desire. So, he could be convicted and hanged, even if in his heart he’s innocent.”

“Well,” said Sadie after a pause, “then who’s been braining and poisoning Lanny?” 

“He likely just fell the first two times. Have you seen looks of guilt in the eyes of either of Denny or Ozzy? I’ve seen no looks of compassion, either, but certainly none of guilt.”

“No, but Alice, at least, is guilty of treason.”

“We don’t even know that for sure. She might have just lost her head, out of shame for having rejoiced in Lanny’s death as he lay there dying. And out of guilt for her desire for Willy. And out of shame for having married Lanny for his family’s money. But…”

“And out of shame for being a traitor spy. Harley’s convinced of that. Why else would they run off to Canada?”

“I don’t know,” sighed Tim.

“What’ll happen if they’re caught?”

“They’ll question them,” said Tim with a shrug. “They’ll likely bring in strangers to do it. They’ll try to keep them awake for days. And likely strip them naked, too. They say it helps to get a person talking.”

“They’d strip a woman?”

“Well, there’d have women to do it, to ensure there’s no rumors started. And, after days of it, they’ll likely get their confession, be it true or false. When they question a man like that, keeping him awake, they’ll sometimes get a confession and then find out that the man has an alibi. But… we’re a nation at war and they’ve got a corpse with a cut throat. The Committee would have to be decisive.”

“The two of them are taking a big risk by running, aren’t they?” said Sadie as she shook her head.

“They are,” said Tim with a solemn nod. He could imagine Alice sitting naked on a stool, her hands over her breasts, in a half-stupor from fatigue, struggling not to fall while begging her interrogators to leave her be.

“But, like Dorothy said, if they’ve made it to a safe house, then they’ll likely make it all the way through to Canada.”

“Likely.”

“But they’ll be in exile forever,” said Sadie, “unless Congress decides to negotiate a peace. And it’s not likely that that’ll happen. Their running off is their confession and their exile will be their punishment.”

“A lenient punishment,” said Tim with a shrug, “if Willy had actually formed a prior intent to take the life of Lanny so he could steal his wife from him. But… he probably didn’t.”

“Yes, he seems more the impulsive type than the calculating type. An overgrown boy is what he seems like. Alice will just have to be the adult on his behalf.”

Between 80,000 and 100,000 refugees left the thirteen states, about one in thirty Americans and likely a very small part of all who opposed independence. About half went to what is now Canada, primarily to regions that boarded on the Atlantic. In addition to these, thousands of native Indians, mainly Iroquois, were resettled in British held regions west of Quebec. Many of the loyalist refugees were economic migrants who feared no retribution. An unknown number eventually returned home. Refugee families in Canada were granted land: one hundred acres to the head of the family and fifty for each additional member. This would be more than enough to farm, at a time when the only heavy equipment was a single blade plough pulled by a team of oxen. (One acre is three quarters the size of a football field.) Military personnel received additional lands. Privates got another 100 acres, and low-ranking officers received another 500. Captains received an additional 700 acres, and higher-ups another 1000. These large tracts of land would be sold or rented to new immigrants, allowing gentry to maintain their rank in society. Officers and their descendants would form a large part of a Canadian upper class that controlled English-speaking settlements upstream from French settlements on the Saint Laurence River. This upper class would oppose democracy until a reform movement emerged on both sides of the border in the 1830s. Prominent among the loyalist immigrants was the family of defector, Benedict Arnold. In 1798 the King granted him and his family 13,400 acres of fertile land, north of Toronto. Arnold was said to have been sad that he and his wife Peggy could not go there and join his sons and his sister, Hanna. He suffered from a persistent cough contracted in the tropics and died in England, in 1801, at age 60.

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