TheTroubleshooters.com Home                   Catalog                   World War 2                   World War 1                  Links

Patton's Troubleshooters Book                        Patton's Troubleshooters DVD

DURING the conversation between the two captains, the lingering twilight had faded into darkness.  The Virginians of that day kept early hours, and for some time past a stream of carriages from the neighboring country seats had each been discharging, before the wide entrance, its load of ladies fair, their attendant cavaliers for the most part arriving on horseback.  After laying aside their wrappings, the guests, with whom the two officers mingled, were received in the great drawing room by Colonel Barrett and his daughter Margaret, assisted by Evelyn Heathcote.

The two girls made a pretty picture as they stood together under a brilliantly lighted chandelier at the end of the long room.  Evelyn Heathcote was cast in a rather large mould, tall, stately and imposing in her presence, with a nobility of carriage and of feature that impressed the most casual observer.  Like most of the daughters of England, her complexion was fair, and her abundant hair had that glint of sunshine in its meshes by which a compensating nature strives to lighten the dull air of the foggy little island; and her eyes were as blue as the sea, which washes its shores.  Upon her usually pale, calm face, the excitement of the evening and a defection on the part of an hitherto devoted cavalier, Lieutenant Richard Heathcote, which her keen eye had speedily become aware of, had brought a delicate play of color to her cheek, which put to blush the pink roses she wore at her breast, and which not even the gentle gale from the tiny fan she carried could dispel.

She was dressed in a short-waisted gown of pale blue, made after the fashion called Empire, a fashion imported from France; there were straps of pearl passementerie drawn across the breast, and the dress was cut very décolleté, disclosing a pair of snowy shoulders; a broad panel of the same pearl trimming fell from the short waist to the hem of the gown.  Her hands and arms were covered with long white wrinkled gloves; her hair was dressed a la Grecque with a large knot, into which a bunch of white ostrich tips had been thrust, with numbers of curls falling on either side of her face; on her feet she wore pink satin shoes with ties crossed over the instep and white silk stockings, which the dress, cut rather short before, though trailing a little behind, plainly exposed.  In short, she represented the extreme of the mode of the period; and at Almack's they used to say there was not a better gowned nor a better looking woman in all England than Evelyn Heathcote.

Greater contrast could not be imagined than that presented by the two girls, for Margaret Barrett, a year or two younger than her friend, was as small and dark as the other was tall and fair.  Her hair, which she of course wore in the all-prevailing Greek knot with two coquettish and fascinating little curls over her ears, and otherwise; dressed low on her pretty forehead, was of a dark chestnut color; her complexion was of that rich olive tint so rarely seen in its perfection, which bespeaks the ardent kisses of tropic suns through generations of ancestors; the prevailing tint of her large, expressive eyes was hazel, sometimes lightening into a shadowy gray, sometimes darkening into a bluish black.  Sometimes they dreamed, sometimes they glistened with limpid light, sometimes they filled with tears, sometimes they flashed with fire, according to her varying moods.

She had a smiling and most kissable mouth, the red lips shaped like a Cupid's bow, a nose very slightly retrousse, and a merry piquant coquettish expression suited to her slender and graceful figure.  She was simply gowned in white, and wore no gloves; the modestly cut neck and half-open sleeves of her dress permitted glimpses of a pair of round brown arms and youthful shoulders, charming in their immaturity and innocence.  Slippers of pale blue with ties crossed over pale pink stockings covered her dainty feet.  Instead of a fan, she carried a bunch of deep red roses, one of which nestled in the midnight of her hair.  Unlike her majestic friend, all her movements lacked the repose of majesty, and were quick, active, and full of life and nervous energy.  Evelyn was a girl to love and admire; Margaret was one to live and die for.

Though the tendency to brilliancy in the masculine dress had been somewhat modified by the introduction of less extravagant fashions than those of the past, the extent of the change was not yet great, and men still expressed their fancy in the choice of their attire.  Silk, satin, brocade, and vivid color had not yet become the exclusive property of the women.  Colonel Barrett, for instance, clung to the fashion of the not distant Revolutionary days, and appeared in all the glory of powdered hair, immense ruffled tie, satin coat, waistcoat and knee breeches, with silk stockings, diamond buckles, court sword,, and so forth.

The naval officers wore their uniforms— ruffled shirts, blue coats heavily laced on the breast, collar and cuffs with gold, one or two brilliant gold epaulets, according to their rank, white or red waistcoats, as they were Americans or English.  They carried cocked hats under the arm, wore swords at the side, tight-fitting ankle trousers and tasseled half boots for the Americans, and knee breeches, silk stockings and pumps for the English.

Lieutenant Colonel Winfield Scott and his officers-were arrayed in the rich blue uniform of the Artillery Corps, trimmed with gold lace, with white crossed belts on the breast, black stock, high riding boots, immense chapeau with plume, eagle and cockade.

Major Hugh Brady and his Infantry officers wore a similar uniform, but laced with silver, and each carried a polished leather shako with white pompon, and wore high leather gaiters instead of boots.  The American Marine officers were in green uniforms, faced with white, and the British were in brilliant scarlet.

The civilians wore high white stocks, with broad, full cravats and ruffled shirts; long skirted coats, with high rolling collars, of blue, green, brown, red, white, or any other color; with low fancy waistcoats, heavy watch fobs, tight knee breeches and boots, or long tight-fitting trousers tied at the ankle; with slippers and rosettes on their feet.  The ballroom, therefore, lighted by hundreds of wax candles in chandelier, sconces and candelabra, presented a brilliant picture of moving color, the like of which we no longer see.

It was a day in which old-fashioned ceremony and courtesy had not been displaced by new-fashioned indifference.  The gentle art of curtseying was still as much a part of a young lady's education as were reading, writing and ciphering.  So there was much elaboration and form in the welcoming of the guests before the opening of the ball, and a degree of stiffness in the party, which was not removed until the coming of the Negro fiddlers, slaves on the plantation, who furnished the humble orchestra for the prospective gayety.

Then the dance began, and contra-dance, reel and jig succeeded each other in pleasant succession.  For those who did not dance there were card-tables provided in appointed rooms of the great house, which were much sought after by the elder men and the dowagers; and the great buffet and the tables in the dining-room were loaded with the substantial eatables and drinkables of those days.

Among the most indefatigable of the dancers was Lieutenant Heathcote, and the principal object of his attention during the evening was the fair hostess herself.  It was remarked by many, and by none more forcibly than by Lieutenant Fairford, that she seemed in no wise averse to accepting the attentions of the handsome Englishman, and it was not until the evening was far advanced that Fairford found himself able to secure the attention of his lovely cousin.  Taking her hand with the old-fashioned grace of his ancestry, he led her out of the hall toward the little summerhouse at the end of the wharf.  His outward manner was gracious, but his inward feelings were quite the reverse.

While he had not exactly grown up with Margaret, on account of the long absences necessitated by his cruises in distant seas, he had been at home at regularly recurring intervals of two or three years, and the affection with which, as a boy, he had regarded the tried little comrade and merry-hearted companion of his childhood had unconsciously and insensibly deepened, until it had become the all-absorbing; passion of his whole nature.  It had required, however, just the stimulus, which the evident appreciation exhibited by his stepbrother for his cousin-supplied, to discover to him the full depth and intensity of his love; and that which had hitherto-smoldered little heeded, suddenly broke into flame.  He was a modest man, however, and, as he had never spoken to Margaret on this subject, he had no assurance upon which to found that airy structure of happiness and hope which lovers build, and it was with much trepidation and great misgiving that he spoke that night.

As to Margaret herself, the thought of Blakely Fairford as a lover had never entered her head, though Destiny, under whose leading we walk as; children, had been unconsciously directing her footsteps in the same pathway her lover trod.  When Fairford spoke to her that night therefore, her heart, under the influence of his sweet pleading, opened "before her own vision as the morning glory whose vines twined around the summer-house in which they stood, opened before the touch of the rising sun.  The feeling of open admiration with which she had enjoyed the comradeship of the debonair young Englishman was lost in the depth of a newer and truer emotion.  However, and I grieve to say it, Margaret was not only witty and wise and gay, but she was a natural coquette of the most finished type as well; and that tendency, coupled with her surprise at the sudden and 'overwhelming revelation not only of Fairford's feeling, but of her own, moved her to simulate an indifference she did not feel.

So, when Fairford told her how he loved her, she laughed.  When he begged her not to dance with his brother again, when he asked for a kiss, which she would have freely given him that very morning as a sister might, when he pleaded for a rose from those which she held in her hand, she put him off with smiles and jests.

But when the old Fitzhugh temper rose to the surface in him and he grew angry and imperious, demanding, when he should have continued to plead, she became as hard as a struck flint, and matched the blows of his pride by returning flashes of fire, until, within open rupture, and with a bitter feeling, the two who loved each other walked back to the house at odds.  If Margaret had been beautiful before, she surpassed herself now; and the color in her cheeks rivaled that of the rose, which she waved airily in the direction of Heathcote as she entered, while Fairford, gloomy and furious, remained behind in the doorway.  She accepted an invitation for a reel from Heathcote at once, very much to the discomfiture arid indignation of Miss Evelyn, and that completed the breach.  Fairford, naturally, and with a quick appreciation that it might not be pleasant to his brother, consoled himself by dancing attendance upon Evelyn Heathcote, whom he really liked extremely, and who, piqued at the desertion of her cousin Richard, whom she had always considered her own private property, was in nowise loath to accept the attentions of so dashing a cavalier as the American.  Thus, of the characters in this story, three, in the midst of merriment, were breaking their hearts needlessly, while the cause of all the trouble, save for some uneasiness at Evelyn's apparent acquiescence in the situation, thoroughly enjoyed it all.

Toward the close of the evening, during a cessation of the dances, Heathcote proposed to Margaret that he should teach her a new dance, lately introduced into England, and of which none of the Americans had ever heard, called the waltz.  Margaret, ignorant of the character of the dance, and happening to catch a particularly stern glance from the jealous Fairford at the moment, readily acquiesced, and gave strict attention while Heathcote showed her the steps.

"Oh, don't let her dance it," whispered Evelyn to Fairford.  "It is really not the thing at all; 'tis much condemned in England and . . ."

"She may do what she pleases for aught I care," he answered recklessly.  "But you don't understand," she continued quickly.  " He has to take her in his arms and . . . do interfere."  "It will be useless, you will see; but I will try," he answered, stepping forward to where Margaret stood watching Heathcote humming the air and exhibiting the step.  "I think I understand how it is done," she said, smiling.  "So," taking her skirts in her hand and making the turn gracefully.  "Splendid! Splendid!" cried Heathcote, amid a murmur of applause from the other guests, who had gathered about them.  "Who will play for us?  Evelyn, you?"  She shook her head, and Fairford said, —"Margaret, don't dance this, I beg of you. I am informed that . . . that..." he hesitated, not liking openly to affront his brother, who was, in a certain sense, his guest.  "Have a care, Fairford," responded that gentleman, smiling, but with a menacing ring in his voice; "if you wish to play master of the revels, you will have to wear a more smiling face; besides, Miss Barrett has promised to dance this with me."

''Margaret, I must request you," continued Fairford, in his most imperious manner, his face flushing.  " Since when have you assumed the position of arbiter of the dance?" she interrupted, smiling defiantly, her eyes shining, her face full of color.  "You forget this is not the quarter-deck of your ship, sir; I dance this with Lieutenant Heathcote, as I promised."  "As you please, Mistress Barrett," returned Fairford at this, while he bowed and retreated.

"Who can play the measure?" cried Heathcote, gaily, enjoying his triumph.  "You can, Howard? Sit down, then, at this harpsichord.  Now, Madam," he cried', as the first few bars of the slow, dreamy trois temps, the original waltz, floated through the room.  Then, stepping forward, to her great surprise, he slipped an arm around her waist, and, before she knew it, whirled her away in what was probably the first waltz ever danced on the American continent.

For a moment she struggled to break away, and then, catching sight of Fairford's gloomy face, convulsed with rage and jealousy, she abandoned herself to the fascinating motion.  Though her partner held her at arm's length, barely touching her, a wave of horrified indignation swept over the people in the ballroom, and they were by no means Puritans, either.  Such a shocking thing had never been seen or heard of before; actually, she was being pulled around in his arms; shades of her ancestors!  A perfect storm of disapproval rose in feminine breasts, while envy filled the souls of the young men.  A moment more and Margaret had lost caste forever; and what might have broken forth no one can tell, when the voice of Colonel Barrett, who had just come in from the card-room, stopped the guilty pair, and rescued his daughter from the consequences of her reckless behavior before it was too late.

"My daughter," he said, with perfect courtesy, and yet with crushing disapproval, " if you will honor me, and enough others can be found to follow our example, we will, in the menuet de la cour, show the thoughtless and foolish present with what dignity and grace the dances of the past were carried on."

"A rose in memory of this," whispered Heathcote to his fair partner.  Carelessly dropping one from the bunch at his feet, with a heightened color and an angry heart, for certainly she had represented, if any one did, the "thoughtless and foolish present," at the subtle, though delicate reproof of her father, anger, which vented itself upon the innocent Fairford chiefly, with the unreasoning tendency of angry womanhood, she returned her father's stately bow with a deep courtesy, and, in company with the others, reverted to the past in the minuet.  Shortly after this, as it was long past the usual retiring hour even for balls, the party broke up.  Those who lived near by returned home; others of the ladies sought their apartments for the night, while the gentlemen adjourned to the billiard-room and dining room.