The Loyalist: A Story of the American RevolutionBarrett, James Francis
History
The Loyalist: A Story of the American Revolution
Barrett, James Francis
United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
"Once is quite sufficient," said the General. "First impressions often
endure. But stay. Draw your chairs. I was only saying that I may be
required to leave here shortly."
"You have been transferred?" asked Marjorie.
"No! But I have written to Washington begging for a command in the navy.
My wounds are in a fair way and less painful than usual, though there is
little prospect of my being able to be in the field for a considerable
time."
They sat down as requested, opposite Peggy and the General.
"But, General, have you not taken us into your consideration?" asked
Anderson.
"I have, yet the criticism is becoming unendurable. Of course you have
heard that matters have already become strained between the civil
government and myself. Only last week my head aide-de-camp sent for a
barber who was attached to a neighboring regiment, using as a messenger
the orderly whom I had stationed at the door. For this trifling order
there has been aroused a hornet's nest."
"Wherein lay the fault?" asked Marjorie.
"In this. It appears from a letter which I have already received from
the father of the sergeant (Matlack is his name, to be exact) that the
boy was hurt by the order itself and the manner of it, and as a freeman
would not submit to such an indignity as to summon a barber for the aide
of a commanding officer. We have a proud, stubborn people to rule, who
are no more fitted for self-government than the Irish----"
He stopped short.
Marjorie bit her lip. "I wish, General, you would withdraw your
comparison. It is painful to me."
"I am sorry, Mistress Allison. As a matter of fact I hardly knew what I
had said. I do withdraw it."
"Thank you so much."
Then he went on.
"These Americans are not only ungrateful, but stupidly arrogant. What
comparison can be drawn between this dullard, Matlack, whose feelings as
a citizen were hurt by an order of an aide-de-camp, and I, when I was
obliged to serve a whole campaign under the command of a gentleman who
was not known as a soldier until I had been some time a brigadier. My
feelings had to be sacrificed to the interest of my country. Does not
the fool know that I became a soldier and bear the marks upon me, to
vindicate the rights of citizens?"
He talked rapidly, yet impassionately. It was plain, however, that he
was seriously annoyed over the turn of events, on which subject he
conversed with his whole being. He made gestures with violence. His face
became livid. His attitude was menacing.
"On my arrival here, my very first act was condemned. It became my duty,
because of sealed orders from the Commander-in-chief, who enclosed a
resolution adopted by Congress, to close the shops. From the day,
censure was directed against me. I was not the instigator of it. Yet I
was all to blame."
He sat up with his hands on his knees, looking fiercely into the next
room.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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