POLLY CALLENDAR: TORY[W]ByMargaret Fenderson
ByMargaret Fenderson
The tale of a Tory maid, a Patriot youth, and a kettle of scarlet dye.
The tale of a Tory maid, a Patriot youth, and a kettle of scarlet dye.
IN 1774-5, previous to the outbreak of the Revolution, the Callendars were Royalists, and General Gage’s young British officers, one of whom was related to the Callendars, frequently rode out from Boston to call at the hospitable country-house. It was Polly Callendar whom they went to see; her beauty and vivacious wit were the theme of many toasts. And up to the evening of this story Polly was as disdainful of the “minute-men� as was her mother.
At about noon of that day Madam Callendar was summoned to the bedside of Elizabeth Ballard, a kinswoman living near Natick. She had left her brick oven full of the week’s baking, and had set a large brass kettle, filled with redwood dye, on the crane in the great fireplace. Madam Callendar’s parting directions to Polly had been not only to watch the oven, but to stir the boiling redwood.
Numerous skeins and hanks of woolen yarn, spun during the previous winter, were immersed in it, and the last warning from Polly’s mother was: “Redwoodmust never be hurried, Polly. Stir often, lass. Press the hanks down hard with your clothes-stick, and then drop in a little of this powdered alum to set the scarlet.�
So through the long, foggy afternoon it was Polly Callendar’s homely task to watch the oven and tend the “scarlet kettle.� But with evening came an unexpected diversion. A knock was heard at the outer door; and when old Rastus, the negro servant, had opened it, a tall young man, in provincial garb, inquired how far it was to Boston and what was the road. Learning that the distance was still considerable, he entreated hospitality, saying that having ridden since dawn, he was both tired and wet. Polly at first demurred, but in the end, moved by his plight and persuaded somewhat by his respectful manners and handsome face, she sent Rastus to stable the horse.
She spread a plentiful supper before the wayfarer; and then, because his appearance pleased her, she brewed for him some of her mother’s cherished tea, and poured it into one of the delicate china teacups that had come from England.
But the young man ate in silence, notwithstanding these attentions. Truth to say, he was ill at ease. He was on his way to join the minute-men, and he was bringing with him a hundred pounds that had been contributed by the “patriot committee� of his native town. He feared that in some way the redcoats had been given a hint of his mission. Mounted men had stared hard at him that day, and he had thought itwise to avoid a troop patrolling the roads. And now, despite the quality of his supper, he paused to listen anxiously whenever horses’ hoofs or voices were heard without. Polly, noticing his uneasiness and marking his blue colonial home-spun, drew her own inferences.
Of a sudden the young man took note of the kettle and its scarlet contents.
“That is a bright dye which you have there, mistress,� he remarked. “Are you fond of so high a color?�
“In good truth, sir, and why not?� replied Polly. “Have you fault to find with it?�
“I would be but a churl, an I did,� answered the guest gallantly, “since it is scarcely more pink than the cheeks of my fair hostess.
“The redcoats must feel flattered at your preference,� he added.
“And is it not the hue that all loyal subjects should prefer?� queried Polly demurely.
“Nay, but I will not gainsay you, mistress,� replied the young man. “And yet,� he added, “it is a color soon to fade under our American sun.�
“But not from the hearts of the king’s loyal subjects,� retorted Polly. “This is no rebel household, sir. My kinsmen, who were here but yesterday, wear the scarlet and are the king’s loyal servants.� And saying this she observed her guest closely and saw that he winced.
“Beyond doubt he is one of the patriots,� she thought.“But such a handsome youth! Moreover, he is most courteous, and his voice and ways are more gentle and respectful than those of Cousin Charles.�
As for the stranger, his heart sank afresh. “I will pay for my supper and get on,� he thought. “I shall be safer abroad in the darkness than here.� And he rose to take leave as gently as he might, but at that moment the tramp of horses was again heard; and this time they did not pass, but pulled up before the house door.
“My kinsmen, it is very like,� said Polly, smiling. “They wear sharp swords, sir.� Then, as she noted the hunted look which the young man cast about the room, her light and taunting manner changed. “Is it that you would not like to meet them, sir?� she asked, in a low tone.
As she spoke there came an imperative rap at the outer door, and a cry of “Open in the king’s name!�
“For heaven’s sake, mistress, show me some way out,� cried the stranger. “It is less that I fear their swords, but I am on a mission of importance.�
“Open, madam! Open, Polly! It is I, your Cousin Charles; and they say there is a rascally rebel here!� cried the voice outside. “But we have the house surrounded.�
Polly had turned toward a rear door, but hearing these last words, darted to the centre of the room again. For an instant she was at a loss. Then her eyes fell on the door of her mother’s storeroom, a closet besidethe large chimney, which it was Madam Callendar’s practice always to keep locked; but in the haste of departing that day she had forgotten to take the key.
“Here, sir,� Polly whispered. “Quick, be quick!� and she unlocked the door, half pushed the man within and hastily turning the key again, put it in her pocket.
“Open! Open!� cried the voices outside. “Open in the king’s name!� and the raps were repeated.
“Coming, good sirs, coming,� cried Polly. Then her eye fell on the young patriot’s greatcoat lying across the back of a chair. If seen, that would betray all. She snatched it up and plunged it into the great kettle of scarlet dye. Then throwing the door open and courtesying low, as was the custom of those days, she cried: “Good-evening, Cousin Charles. Welcome, good gentlemen. My mother has gone to Natick for the day. Ne’theless you are right welcome.�
“Ay!� grumbled the young officer. “After my knuckles are skinned with knocking. But prithee, Polly, have you seen naught of this insolent knave?�
“Indeed, Cousin Charles, this is but a sorry jest!� exclaimed Polly Callendar. “Since when has my family been aught but loyal to the king?�
“True,� assented the Briton. “Yet the rascal may be lurking about.�
“Enter, then, and see for yourselves,� cried Polly. “My mother would earnestly desire you to purge her house of rebels!�
They came noisily in—while the young patriot’s heart beat fast—they peered into nooks and corners, and presently ascended to the attic.
“Do not forget the cellar!� cried Polly gaily, opening the door and handing her cousin a lighted candle. “Perchance the knave is hiding in some bin or box.�
The quest there proved as fruitless as in the chambers; but on emerging one of the party noted the closed door by the chimney and tried it. “Why locked?� he exclaimed. “The key, fair mistress.�
“For that you will do well to ask my mother,� replied Polly carelessly. “The closet is my mother’s keeping-room; and it is ever her custom to carry the key in her pocket.�
“True,� remarked her cousin, who knew the ways of the household. “The rogue will hardly have got into madam’s keeping-room. Doubtless he has slipped away.�
“If ever he were here,� flashed back Polly. “But beyond doubt, good cousin and gentlemen, you must be hungry after your hard ride. Will you not partake of our cheer?�
Nothing loath, the young redcoats gathered about the supper-table, where for an hour or more Polly maintained the reputation of the house for loyalty and good entertainment. In truth, the soldiers were slow to depart, and would hardly have gone by nine o’clock had not Polly adroitly reminded her kinsmen that the “Knave� they were pursuing would surely get clearaway. Thereupon they took leave and rode off with much laughter.
But fearful lest they might return, Polly waited long listening, and not until old Rastus had come in to bar the outer door for the night and close the shutters would she release her prisoner.
“Come forth, sir,� she at last commanded, with assumed austerity. “What have we here? A rebel, I fear me, from all I am told.�
“But one profoundly grateful to his preserver,� replied the young man; and to old Rastus’s great astonishment he took Mistress Polly’s hand and gallantly kissed the tips of her fingers, albeit they were tinged with scarlet from her dye.
“Methinks, sir, it but ill becomes me to accept such thanks from one who confesses his disloyalty to King George,� Polly replied, still with seeming severity, “and whose name I do not even know. But since you are here, prithee take seat before the fire. For of necessity, sir, I have made a good Royalist of you, so far as your greatcoat covers you. See!� And with the clothes-stick she lifted the coat out of the kettle. “Not Cousin Charles’s own is a brighter scarlet!�
The stranger burst into a hearty laugh.
“Good faith, I had not thought to wear a scarlet coat!� he exclaimed.
“Yet, sir, it may stand you in good stead as you ride into Boston to-morrow,� replied Polly. “It was of that I thought as I dipped it. And now let us powdera little alum in the mortar to set the hue. I would not have thy loyalty wash out, sir, in the first shower that falls on you.�
As a consequence, one young patriot found himself powdering alum to dye his own coat scarlet. And midnight came and passed as he and Polly sat in front of the great brass kettle, and old Rastus nodded in the corner.
Beyond doubt they became better acquainted in this time; and Polly certainly learned the stranger’s name, for as the tall old clock in the corner struck one, she said, “It is now time to wring thy coat, John Fenderson.�
When wrung, it had still to be dried; and Polly put it for an hour into the warm brick oven.
Somewhat puckered from the dye, the garment still required pressing out; and to heat a sad-iron and accomplish this occupied yet another hour. The old clock struck three.
“Truly, John Fenderson, making a king’s man of thee has been a long task!� exclaimed Polly, as at last she held up the scarlet coat for inspection. “Don it, sir! I would even desire to mark the effect.� And what John Fenderson would not have done at the king’s command he appears now to have done without hesitation at Polly Callendar’s request. For between these two young people the grievous differences of Tory and Patriot had already been dispelled—in the dyeing of a coat before a fireplace.
“Good luck, John Fenderson, in thy brave coat,� said Polly at four o’clock, as the young man took leave, after she had given him breakfast. “May the color hold,� she added. “But if it fades——�
“I shall come back to you,� said John.
“Ah, but it will grieve me when I hear that thou art to be hanged for a rebel!� cried Polly from the door.
“Nay, Mistress Polly, I should have but to send for thee to teach me how to dye!� replied John Fenderson.
So he rode away, and had cause to be thankful for the disguise the coat offered him; for while riding through Newton a little before noon, he was hailed by three redcoats, two of whom raised their muskets; but the third held them back, saying, “Nay, by his coat he must be one of our men.�
There is much reason to believe that Mistress Polly’s loyalty to King George was ever afterward open to question. At any rate, the records of John Fenderson’s native town show that he married in 1779, and that the bride’s name was Polly Callendar.