Sophia's War (35 page)

“You to be,” I said, saying what would he would not say. “When you refused to help my brother, William, he died a prisoner in one of your loathsome prison ships. That's when I too made a pledge. I pledged that I would avenge his death and the death of his many companions. I came here to tell you I, for one, have kept
my
pledge.”

He remained quiet, just staring at me. At last, he said, “Then, Miss Calderwood, you have become a lady.”

He sat down and, without another word, picked up his pencil and began to draw a sketch of me.

How curious the mind. Upon that instant, I recalled what he had once told me, that, “My talent in sketching is showing people as they really are.”

Not wanting to see how I really was, I hurried from the room.

70

I LEFT TAPPAN
before John André's death. It is, as I said at the beginning, a terrible thing to see a man hang.

John André was buried in a grave near the gallows in Tappan, New York. Some years later, his remains were taken to England and were reinterred in London's Westminster Abbey. It was in a section known as the Hero's Corner.

I do not believe he was a hero, for he and his army waged a terrible war against my countrymen—including my beloved brother. How many perished in New York prisons? Shortly after the war, this notice appeared everywhere.

To all Printers of Public news-papers

Tell it to the whole World, and let

It be published in every News Paper

throughout America, Europe, Asia, and

Africa, to the everlasting disgrace and

Infamy of the British King's Commanders

At New-York, That during the late War,

it is said ELEVEN THOUSAND SIX

HUNDRED and FORTY-FOUR American

Prisoners, have suffered death by their inhuman,

Cruel, savage and barbarous usage on board

the filthy and malignant
BRITISH PRISON

SHIP
called the
JERSEY,
lying at New York.

Britons tremble lest the vengeance of Heaven

Fall on your life, for the blood of these

Unfortunate victims!

An AMERICAN

And this was just the
Jersey
. Not the
Good Intent
or other hulks. Not the sugarhouses. Not the churches used as prisons. What had my father said about the British: “Are they not our kinsmen and a civilized people?”

How deceived we were!

In 1824, some time after John André was laid to his final rest in England, I crossed the ocean and visited the abbey. Kneeling, I placed on his grave the faded blue ribbon he once gave me. For I knew two things: that I had caused his hanging death and that I adored him.

You see, I no longer wish to be at war with myself.

Dear Reader:

My story is done, but I remain your most humble servant,

Sophia Calderwood

affixedness

The state of being affixed; devoted attachment

bagwig

A wig fashionable in the eighteenth century, the back hair of which was enclosed in an ornamental bag

balked

Frustrated

badinage

Humorous, witty, or trifling discourse; cheerfulness, playfulness, banter

blank

As in not to listen

bosky

Somewhat the worse for drink, tipsy

brainwork

Thinking

bufflehead

A fool, blockhead, stupid fellow

candle auctions

An auction in which bids were taken for as long as a candle flame burned

common

In this sense, a room that was open to all, as contrasted with a private room, such as a bedroom

compass

Direction

credit

Belief

derangement

Disturbance of order or arrangement; displacement

emotion

An agitation of mind; an excited mental state tending to excite

gunwale

The upper edge of a ship's side; in large vessels, the uppermost planking, which covers the timberheads and reaches from the quarterdeck to the forecastle on either side; in small craft, a piece of timber extending round the top side of the hull

fluster

Confuse

folly-blind

To act foolishly

forcibility

The quality of being forcible

glowflies

Fireflies

gossery

Silliness such as is attributed to the goose

glumming

That which looks glum or sullen

horse-stinger

Dragonfly

Hudson's River

The Hudson River, as it is called today, has been called Hudsons River, Hudson's River, the North River, and even on one (French) map as the Orange River. A British military map (the Ratzer Map, published in1776) references it as Hudson's River.

hugger-mugger

Concealment, secrecy;
especially
in the phrase “in hugger-mugger”: insecret, secretly, clandestinely

hurly-burly

Commotion, tumult, confusion

in the fact

In the act

indelicacy

Rudeness

jabber

The act of jabbering; rapid and indistinct or unintelligible talk; gabble, chatter; gibberish (consider “jabberwocky”)

jabbled

A slight, agitated movement of water or other liquid; a splashing or dash-ing in small waves or ripples

kinsmen

Relatives of the same family

laxy

Loose in texture

leveler

Someone who believes in making all people equal without social or property distinctions

linsey-woolsey

A textile material woven from a mixture of wool and flax; now a dress material of coarse inferior wool woven upon a cotton warp

mobcap

A large cap or bonnet covering much of the hair, typically of light cotton with a frilled edge, and sometimes tied under the chin with ribbon, worn by women in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries

muttonhead

A dull or stupid person

mumpish

Sullenly angry; depressed in spirits; sulky

nicknackery

Small, trifling

nizy

A fool or simpleton

pixie-led

Led astray by pixies; lost; bewildered, confused

plightful

Full of distress or suffering

plout

To fall with a splash; to plunge or splash in water

potheration

Confusion, turmoil, trouble

puddy

Short, thickset; stumpy, podgy

puzzledom

The state of being puzzled; perplexity, bewilderment

randy

Having a rude, aggressive manner; loudmouthed and coarsely spoken

rantum-scantum

Disorderly

resparkle

To sparkle

richitic

Suggesting wealth, riches

sensation

An exciting experience; a strong emotion

shay-brained

Foolish, silly

shilly-shally

To vacillate, be irresolute or undecided

shingle

Small roundish stones; loose, water-worn pebbles such as are found collected upon the seashore

stimulative

Something having a stimulating quality; a motive inciting to action; a stimulus, incentive

swinking

To labor, toil, work hard; to exert oneself

smutty

Soiled with, full of, and/or characterized by smut; dirty; blackened

stuck pig

Stupid

to rise at a feather

To become easily upset

topsy-turvy

In complete confusion

unknow

To cease to know, to forget (what one has known)

unwarp

To uncoil, straighten out

upstirring

Stimulating, rousing

vexed

To be annoyed

wondersome

Wonderful

Sophia's War
contains three story threads, two of them as historically accurate as I could write them. The third, and major, thread is my invention.

The first of these stories has to do with the treatment of American prisoners by the British in New York City during the Revolution. While I had known about the notorious prison hulks in Brooklyn's Wallabout Bay, it was Edwin G. Burrows's brilliant
Forgotten Patriots
that provided me with the full depth of misery American prisoners experienced. While Burrows has estimated that some seven thousand died upon the field of battle, he provides good evidence to show that as many as eighteen thousand died in Britain's New York prisons!

Burrows's book and bibliographic sources (bibliographies being the amateur historian's mother lode) offered the kind of detail I have been able to present here. For example, even the name—however ironic—of the prison ship the
Good Intent
is real.

The other true story is that of British Major John André and General Benedict Arnold. Arnold is America's most notorious traitor and his story is an event about which much has been researched and written. For example, all the secret letters that passed between Arnold and André may be read in Carl Van Doren'
s Secret History of the American Revolution.
I have quoted only a very few of them, but what is here is accurate. Indeed, the depth of research about this affair is so rich, so detailed, that I can write with confidence (for example) that the
Cahoon brothers, who rowed André to shore, muffled their oars in sheepskin, that the major gave a sixpence to the boy who directed him to Tarrytown, and that the phases of the moon in the night sky are as they were.

With all the research focused on the André/Arnold story, there are two moments that must be accorded as remarkable coincidences. The first is the driving away of the
Vulture
, and the second is the presence of John Paulding and his friends near Tarrytown, which allowed the capture of André.

By my reading, there is no convincing evidence as to how and why those things happened. It is here my fiction takes over. Sophia Calderwood is a complete invention, and it is she who links the treatment of prisoners to the capture of André. This tale is Sophia's story, or, as Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, “There is properly no history, only biography.” Sophia is as true an individual as I could hope to create, and her actions provide an explanation as to what really happened in 1780.

Let it be clear, however, that beyond Sophia and her family, every character in this book is real, be it John André, Robert Townsend, Peter Laune, Dr. Dastuge, or Provost Cunningham.

History provides endlessly amazing stories. Historical fiction, I believe, can illuminate those stories with the ordinary people who make extraordinary history. Or let me put it this way: Truth may be stranger than fiction, but fiction makes truth a friend, not a stranger.

Avi