Chapter Text
From the diary of Mary Floyd
Dear diary,
Today was…most unusual and exciting! I should preface this story by explaining that I did not imagine it would happen. We are on our way to visit father at Congress. Unfortunately it is in Philadelphia and Mother constantly frets about money and I know our finances are tight. This does not appear to have had any impact upon Kitty, who earlier today kept discussing how much she would love this new bonnet she had seen in a store.
To be truthful, that is why I went into the barn in the first place. I did not go looking for this excitement. And, truthfully again, I must be either vague or purposefully deceitful in case this journal is discovered. But oh, I must tell someone!
Inside the barn, I brushed Midnight and overheard two stable hands having a whispered argument. They kept glancing at me and upon feeling the heat of their gaze; I was, of course, drawn into eavesdropping. Kitty is better at this than I, but I will admit to having some talents in this arena. I heard them discuss how dangerous it would be for them – especially in light of 14.44.46.48.8.52.18.15[1]. Of course, in light of father’s politics, I have a great sympathy for our dear men in buff and blue. Mother says I ought not to care for skinners in the same fashion, but are they not doing their part for the cause? Either way, my interest piqued and I approached them with an offer of assistance.
Once I convinced them of my loyalty to the cause – mentioning father’s name, his role as a signer of the Declaration of Independence and position in Congress – they begrudgingly agreed to let me take care of their problem. They directed me to a tavern, instructed me to sell eggs to the tavern’s proprietor, and meet up with a dragoon major. I would know him, they said, by the silver epaulets on his shoulders. And they gave me a code word! They said it likely would be unnecessary to worry, but that I should act as a simple woman selling wares. He would approach me. If any redcoats gave me any trouble, I merely had to act as an unknowing woman trying to make any money I could. And that I should only accept British pounds. If he didn’t have any money, I should ask for something to trade.
So that is why I went to the tavern with a basket of eggs. The soldiers were already there when I arrived and I looked at them before I went over to the proprietor. I tried to look merely curious and as if appraising who else might buy eggs, but God knows how difficult it is to pretend when your stomach is full of flutters and you are concerned it might empty. The proprietor offered to buy them all and I praise the Almighty that I managed to think of a good reason not to sell all. After I collected the money, I confess I had no idea what to do. Should I linger? Had he seen me? But I could not linger, after all, I had eggs to sell. So I left.
Not long after I stepped out of the tavern did the major follow me.
Oh, I confess – I have never seen a more beautiful man! Tall, his dark blond or light brown (it looked different in various lighting) pulled back, dressed in a clean uniform of tan trousers, a blue coat with silver epaulets, wearing muddy boots, a saber on his hip – and if I had never believed in heaven or God before, I certainly found the Gospel in his blue eyes.
“Miss, spare a few eggs for some patriots?” he asked and if I found God in his eyes, I found the devil in his voice. If Lucifer, as Milton wrote, was the most beautiful of God’s angels, then this continental major took the devil’s voice.
Goodness, that makes no sense now that I see it before me! What I mean is that his voice was utterly captivating!
He smiled at me and then said the code words, to which I stumbled over my response. His smile gentled and he removed some specie to pay for the eggs. While he counted out the amount I named, he complimented me on my bravery and assured me I was doing a beautiful job.
I said nothing. What could I say? I also feared to make a fool of myself. Though, sadly, I did make a fool of myself as I forgot where I’d placed the paper containing the intelligence report! I first checked my pocket, then the basket, and finally remembered I had placed it in my stocking. While I retrieved it, he scanned our surroundings to keep us safe. I had just produced it when he spotted 14.44.46.48.8.52.18.15.
He accepted the report and hurried in to gather his troops, who hurried to their horses. From his saddle bag, he retrieved a spyglass and studied the approaching forces.
One of his men asked if they should attack, but he shook his head. “No, there are too many of them. Dragoons, mount!” He tucked away his spyglass and mounted his steed. “I thank you for your assistance, miss, it’s best –“
“Take me with you,” I asked thoughtlessly. “If you take me up the road a bit, I will be closer to home –“
He held out his hand to me. I took it and mounted behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist as he donned his helmet. “Are you secure?” he asked me. When I confirmed that I was, he gave the order to his troops to ride.
I had to press my face against his back or lean far away to avoid the horse hair plume of his helmet that slapped me as we rode. We slowed down once we reached the cover of trees and I could sit normally. Or as normally as possible, given that once we were out of immediate danger, I became very conscious of where my hands were, of how tightly I held him or not – he made no complaint. However, once we stopped and the dragoons dismounted, it became apparent to me that I had damaged him. He placed a hand against his side and had a very discernible limp. He took out his spyglass and observed our surroundings before going over to consult with a few other men. I hovered behind, needing directions back to town.
They discussed their best course of action and the major decided that they would head to camp – no, I don’t know where that is – and he would return me as close to town as possible. He gave the intelligence to his second-in-command and instructions to destroy it if they were overtaken.
They left and we discussed where I actually needed to go. True, I had to get to town, but the house we are currently in residence is slightly out of town. Before I would let him take me back, I insisted to know why he had developed that limp. He dismissed it, saying it was nothing, a healing injury. I asked how long ago he had received it and he admitted only a few days prior. When I pressed further, he confessed it was a bullet wound and I demanded to see it. I quite insisted upon it, making him sit down, remove his coat, waistcoat, and lifting his shirt.
The bandage was completely soaked through with blood and fresh blood leaked around the edges. If not for his many layers, his wound would have been obvious to all. I inventoried the fabric we had between the two of us. He graciously let me go through his saddlebags to do this. I took out a canteen and a flask from it, then a knife. It was a beautiful knife of whalebone, decorated with whales and ships, and his initials were carved into it as well. I used it to cut a portion of my petticoat. Opening the canteen revealed nothing, so I opened the flask and smelled rum. I wanted to at least see what I was working with – this was before I cut my petticoat, I should say. I let him drink some of it before I poured it over the wound. He hissed and cursed quietly before apologizing. I ignored it and bandaged it after checking for infection. I have a vague idea of what to look for and it looked acceptable, but even so, I told him to see a real doctor and hope now that he will take my advice.
On the way back, I rode in front, his arms on either side of me. I insisted because I believe my grip on him caused his wound to open. He left me not too far from the edge of the woods and handed me his whalebone knife. “In case you run into trouble,” he insisted when I argued against it.
I took it out before writing this entry, I had stashed it in my under clothes and now know not what to do with it. What if Nicoll sees it? He would surely steal it or tell mama. The initials too would prove troublesome – we know no one with those initials. Or at the very least, I cannot think of one at the moment! Kitty would surely be awed, jealous, and DEFINITELY tell mama! I cannot let it be discovered, I shall have to sleep with it and carry it at all times on this journey!
[1] redcoats