“
I see,” said the officer, making a notation on a piece of paper before him. “Sure you don’t want to try for Washington?”
“
Excuse me, but whom do I have the pleasure of addressing,” asked Jake. His contempt was unconcealed.
“
Captain Horace P. Andrews, General Gage’s staff. I’m empowered to try all spies.”
“
Begging your pardon, but first of all, as I understand it, if there’s going to be a trial, it should be a standard court-martial proceeding. That would require –“
“
I have ten minutes for you. Do you want to fill it all with protests, or will you plead for mercy?”
“
What possible evidence do you have against me?”
The captain flipped through the pile of papers and pulled out a piece of foolscap filled with writing in a tight, cramped hand. With some difficulty because of the lighting, he began reading it in a loud monotone, uninfluenced by Jake’s groans.
“ ‘
I, the honorable Claus van Clynne, Esquire, businessman, hearty patriot, member of the New York Militia Auxiliary Advisory Force, sworn enemy of the British Parliament and hater of all things English, do hereby solemnly swear and warrant that the information which I am about to give is the absolute truth as I know it, and that I am witness to the following particulars without prior prejudice and with no personal gain or offering.
“ ‘
To wit, in the first part, that the party who goes by the name of “Jake Gibbs” lately apprehended at the Bull’s Head Tavern by the local militia, which was alerted by my own self while I smartly snuck away on another pretense, did attempt to enlist and hire me to take him north part the legally constituted and patriotic armies of the state of New York and the Congress of these several provinces.
“ ‘
Said Mr. Gibbs did also threaten me bodily and physically during the course of our contact, and on one occasion fired four bullets in my direction, which, due to my dexterous efforts and the Grace of God, missed. Said Mr. Gibbs made numerous other shows of threat and strength, the effect of which were to put me in a general mood of fear and concern for my own safety.
“ ‘
Notwithstanding this and at great personal risk to myself, but in the true spirit of patriotism, I did endeavor to lead said individual Mr. Gibbs to a place where he could be apprehended by duly authorized militia or Continental Army units or, failing that, where I myself, at great danger to my person, might overcome and control him unaided.
“ ‘
Said Mr. Gibbs being continually on guard and always alert and several times stronger than I, plus having the convenience of a multi-barreled weapon, the likes of which have scarcely been seen in such environs, if at all, my efforts to capture him were for naught.
“ ‘
Through evil stratagem, he eluded my grasp, heading straight for the British lines and the succor of his traitorous companions.
“ ‘
Finding myself already drawn deep into Canadian territory, and having originally been destined there within to conduct lawful and legal business as granted by the general of this department, the good and patriotic Philip Schuyler of Fort Orange, a fine gentleman who honors the memory of his Dutch ancestors, I continued upon my way, making arrangements in connection with various and sundry businesses, all legal and without prejudice to the government of the glorious province of New Amsterdam, free and sovereign by the grace of God and the efforts of man.
“ ‘
Having completed this business, I returned south, intent on informing certain military acquaintances of mine of this matter. AT that point I had not the full knowledge of the perfidy of this fellow, who, not content with being a coward and deserting his own native cause, instead returned with the intent of doing it far greater harm as a spy and saboteur, going so far as to sound out the loyalty of the first group of persons he threw in with, obviously with the intent of recruiting them as a legion for the British.
“ ‘
Fortune put us back together, Providence intending that I serve as but a vessel for the State in apprehension. I alerted the local militia at the first opportunity and the arrest was made with dispatch.
“ ‘
I commend you good sirs on your patriotism and remain, yours sincerely in Liberty, Claus van Clynne.”
“ ‘
Postscript – he extorted a pound sterling, English currency, at gunpoint from me, and I should appreciate recompense, over and above whatever token reward is customary in such cases.”
The captain put down the letter and looked at the prisoner with as much sympathy as the snake would have elicited from Adam after the Fall.
At the very beginning of the epistle, Jake’s anger had flashed, but as it went on, he actually grew amused at the distortion of events. Not only was van Clynne’s pen as prolix as his tongue, he had quite effectively made himself the hero of the tale by shifting a few minor details around. Jake wondered what he would have done with the entire story had he known it – no doubt the portly Dutchman would have arrived at Ticonderoga with King George himself in chains.
The humor of the situation was lost on the captain. Being ignorant of Jake’s perspective, he believed van Clynne’s account, with some slight allowances for exaggeration and his habit of referring to things by the old Dutch names.
“
By returning to our lines, you have as good as admitted that you are a spy,” said the officer, “and the punishment for that is hanging.”
“
I am a spy,” said Jake. “For General Schuyler.”
“
You have no papers and no identification. I have the sworn testimony of a good American citizen against you.”
“
Now, does that letter sound believable?”
“
The testimony is from a roving member of the Committee of Correspondence.” The captain nodded at the guards. “Take him back to the cell.”
“
Wait a minute. I demand to see General Schuyler.”
“
He’ll see you on the scaffold,” said the officer as Jake was pulled from the room. “After you’re cut down.”
“
And another thing,” managed Jake before his mouth was clamped shut by one of the guards. “I only borrowed a shilling.”
-Chapter Sixteen–
Wherein, our hero is forced to contemplate the prospects of a very brief career on the gallows
.
H
aving witnessed firsthand
certain defects in the Continental Army’s criminal justice system, Jake returned to his cell with a long list of recommendations for its improvement.
The prospects for implementing reform, however, did not appear particularly bright. While the sergeant kindly removed the gag covering his mouth when they arrived at the ell, his hands and legs remained shackled. The large door swung closed behind him and two guards took up positions outside it. His pockets had been emptied by the mob; there was neither weapon nor key in sight.
Jake told himself the trial had been a sham designed to intimidate him. But if so, why was there someone working in the courtyard outside the barred window, setting a beam over a small stage?
He was a good distance from panic, but he did allow himself to consider the irony of his situation. He wouldn’t be able to give a speech such as Nathan Hale had, when caught in New York? What could he say? I regret I have only one life to give, and it’s being taken by the wrong side?
“
Sergeant, who is the commanding officer of the fort? I must talk to him immediately. It’s urgent”
“
The sergeant’s not here, traitor,” hissed one of the guards.
“
Well, listen to me, who is in charge of the fort?” I have to talk to him about the enemy’s plans. I have to reach Schuyler.”
“
I’ll bet you’d like to talk strategy with him, you Tory scum,” said the sentry, who pounded the door with the butt of his musket. “Now shut up in there.”
A primed musket surely would have gone off if it had been slammed against the door so hard. That was a valuable piece of intelligence – they would not be able to fire if he made a break across the open courtyard.
Now all he had to do was shatter these agonizingly tight shackles, burst through the immensely thick walls, and made a desperate bolt for it.
“
Sergeant, tell the captain that I have valuable information for him about the disposition of the enemy forces.”
“
I’m not a sergeant, you Tory,” said the man, slamming the door again.
“
Get the sergeant, then. Get any officer. I have intelligence, damn it.”
“
I doubt he’d believe you.”
“
Listen,” said Jake, realizing what he would believe. “Tell him I want to make a full confession. Tell him I’ll give him a full rundown of the British Army’s dispositions.”
If he failed to find someone who knew him or would take him to Schuyler, he’d just signed his own death warrant – the captain would now be justified in having him hanged. But every hour in the goal increased the odds that Burgoyne’s invasion would succeed and Herstraw would reach Howe; desperate times require desperate action.
He could hear whisperings outside the door, and then footsteps away, Jake folded his arms and waited. The sergeant soon arrived and the door was opened.
“
The captain thought you would come around,” said the man, motioning with his hands for Jake to follow him from the cell. “Decided to make a clean breast of it, eh?”
“
When you’re caught, you’re caught,” said Jake. He took a step forward and was tripped by the chain, wrenching his ankle horribly in the fall.
His pain was so severe the sergeant ordered the leg manacle removed. When Jake was helped to his feet, he seemed barely able to stand, and had to lean on the sergeant for support. The guards, full of themselves, as if they had played a role in breaking the prisoner down, began whistling and walking ahead, their chests puffing with their prize.
As the sergeant stepped through the doorway into the courtyard, Jake dragged his injured leg heavily. The distance between the guards and their prisoner lengthened.
Two bare scrapes across the courtyard and Jake’s wandering eye caught sight of an unattended horse. In a flash, his ankle magically healed – he smashed the sergeant alongside the head with his elbow and leaped toward the animal, intending to ride him all the way to Albany if necessary, to find Schuyler and get him to rally the defenses against Burgoyne.
But escape was not to be so easily accomplished, for Jake found his path blocked unexpectedly by a figure looming from the darkness on horseback. A pistol was silhouetted against the moon.
“
Stop or I will shoot you, and even in the dark I doubt I will miss.”
“
Jake pulled up short, surprised not only by the shadow’s sudden appearance, but by the fact that the voice accompanying it came from a woman.
“
I must see General Schuyler,” he managed to say just before the guards caught up with him. A hard smash from behind knocked him to the ground.
“
Someone ran up with a lantern. Jake came to in a half-lit fog, barely able to make out the forms before him.
“
I must see Schuyler,” he repeated.
“
I think that can be arranged,” said the soft, feminine voice before him.
The words brought his eyes into focus. He was staring at the most beautiful woman in all of New York and perhaps the entire North American continent, certainly at that moment, and most absolutely in the view of Lieutenant Colonel Jake Stewart Gibbs: Betsy Schuyler, the general’s daughter, stood over him.
“
You’re goddamn lucky I decided to come north tonight. And goddamn lucky that my daughter accompanied me. If she hadn’t been bringing her horses to the barn, those men would have killed you for escaping. What put such a thought in your head?”
And so Schuyler, in the manner of all great generals, had shifted the situation around to turn the blame on the subordinate before him. Jake, in the manner of all great subordinates, took it stiffly, with barely a frown, waiting for Schuyler to finish before pointing out, with all due respect – but not a farthing more – that not only had the general placed him in the situation, but the general’s own officers had been ready to hang him.
“
Captain Andrews has already explained that was merely a ruse,” answered the general. “And besides, he is attached to Gage, not myself.”
Jake decided this was a much satisfaction as he was likely to get, and devoted himself to giving the general his full impressions of the British situation, along with the knowledge of Burgoyne’s intentions. Schuyler received the intelligence with the gravity it deserved, nodding appropriately and making sure his secretary took copious notes.
Jake’s skills as a draftsman were put to the test penciling out what he had seen of troops dispositions and fortification around St. Johns and Crown Point. He had an artistic bent, having briefly indulged in some drawing and painting lessons during his studies in England, and was himself capable of at least attempting a style similar to Watteau, the French master whose great works dated from the beginning of the century. Watteau’s handling of color and its nuances would be particularly apt here, producing an emotional effect that would rally his audience to repel the invaders.
But of course there was no time for such subtlety. Jake merely crayoned annotated diagrams showing the L of the breastworks around St. Johns with the relative location of the boats of the British flotilla. Still, there was a certain flair to the twists he gave the sails, and only a dull observer would miss the fact that the British flag was purposely placed upside down and at half mast.