Part 5 (1/2)
”Not waiting for a second word, Tilly darted like lightning out at the front door, through the yard, bolted o'er the fence. Swamps, fences, thorn-hedges and ploughed fields no way impeded his retreat. He was soon out of hearing.
”The woods echoed with, 'Which way did he go? Stop him! Surround the house!' Lips...o...b..had his hand on the latch, intending to attempt his escape. Stoddard, acquainted him with the deceit.
”'Major Stoddard,' said I, 'Go call Tilly back. He will lose himself,--indeed he will.' Every word interrupted with a Ha! Ha!
”At last he rose and went to the door and what a loud voice could avail in bringing him back, he tried.
”Figure to thyself this Tilly, of a snowy evening, no hat, shoes down at the heel, hair unty'd, flying across meadows, creeks and mud holes.
Flying from what? Why, a bit of painted wood.
”After a while our bursts of laughter being less frequent yet by no means subsided; in full a.s.sembly of girls and officers, Tilly entered.
”The greatest part of my responsibility turned to pity. Inexpressible confusion had taken entire possession of his countenance, his fine hair hanging dishevelled down his shoulders, all splashed with mud, yet his fright, confusion and race had not divested him of his beauty. He smiles as he trips up the steps, briskly walked five or six steps, then stopped and took a general survey of us all.
”'Where have you been, Mr. Tilly?' asked one officer. (We girls were silent.)
”'I really imagined,' said Stoddard, 'that you were gone for your pistols. I follow'd you to prevent danger,' an excessive laugh at each question, which it was impossible to restrain.
”'Pray, where are your pistols, Tilly?'
”He broke his silence by the following expression, 'You may all go to the devil!'” In recording this, Sally somewhat shocked says, ”I never heard him utter an indecent expression before.”
”At last his good nature gained a complete ascendance over his anger, and he joined heartily in the laugh. Stoddard caught hold of his coat.
'Come, look at what you ran from,' he exclaimed, and dragged him to the door.
”Tilly gave it a look, said it was very natural, and by the singularity of his expression gave fresh cause for diversion. We all retired,--for to rest our faces,--if I may say so.
”Well, certainly these military folk will laugh all night. Such screaming I never did hear. Adieu to-night.”
Such incidents as that did good service in giving a touch of humour to the soldiers' duller duties when in camp, and the vivid picture of Tilly and the grenadier comes down to us through the years as a refres.h.i.+ng incident of Revolutionary days.
On the next day Sally writes, ”I am afraid they will yet carry the joke too far. Tilly certainly possesses an uncommon share of good nature or he could not tolerate these frequent teasings.” Then she adds what is most important of all,--
”Ah, Deborah, the Major is going to leave us entirely, just going. I will see him first.”
And on the next day, ”He has gone. I saw him pa.s.s the bridge. The woods hindered us from following him farther. I seem to fancy he will return in the evening.”
But he never did, and it is left to our imagining how much of her heart the gallant young officer took away with him. Whether much or little, there was no evidence of her loss of spirits, and other admirers came and went, in quick succession and apparently entirely engaged her attention.
On the 20th of December, she writes, ”General Was.h.i.+ngton's army have gone into winter quarters at Valley Forge.
”We shall not see so many of the military now. We shall be very intimate with solitude. I am afraid stupidity will be a frequent guest,” and again, ”A dull round of the same thing. I shall hang up my pen till something happens worth relating.”
There being such a lack of diversion at the farm, Sally gladly went to spend a week with her friend Polly Fishbourn at Whitemarsh, where she had an opportunity to climb the barren hills and from their tops saw an extended view of the surrounding country. She says, ”The traces of the Army which encamped on these hills are very visible,--ragged huts, imitations of chimneys, and many other ruinous objects which plainly showed that they had been there.”
Again back at the farm she had long weeks without any other real adventures,--a real one where Sally was concerned, being always one with an officer in the foreground, but when June came again there arrived at the farm the Virginian captain, Dandridge, who seems to have effectually displaced Major Stoddard in the fickle little lady's graces, and she described him in glowing terms to Debby, giving very diverting accounts of the spicy conversations they had together, for Captain Dandridge was famous at repartee, and Sally never at a loss for words to answer back.
In fact there is no more charming bit of writing in the journal than the account of her intimacy with the Captain whom she speaks of as the ”handsomest man in existence.”
In one of Sally's conversations with Dandridge, an interesting light is thrown on the att.i.tude of the Wisters in the struggle for independence.