Into the Wilderness
Page 131
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"Tell me," she said.
Nathaniel wondered what she thought she was going to hear. He was afraid to tell her the whole story; he also knew very well that she would not be satisfied with less than all of it. But she had expectations of him and he feared—he knew—that he was bound to disappoint her in some of them.
"First you should know about me and Richard, before Sarah. How things got started. You know the story of how he came back to Paradise?"
"From Curiosity," Elizabeth confirmed.
"One person who you can count on to tell it to you true," he noted, satisfied with her source. "Well, you know then that Richard's uncle came to claim him, took him off to Albany. But he was never gone for long, he was always coming back to Paradise for a week or a month at a time. He said it was to visit the Witherspoons, but there was more to it than that. It was my mother that interested him."
"Richard came to see your mother?" Elizabeth repeated. She was trying not to ask questions; she wanted to leave the storytelling to him. But it was hard for her, he could see that.
"He couldn't stay away from her," Nathaniel said. "He loved her in the same way that he came to hate me, with everything that was in him. He used to come up to Lake in the Clouds to talk to her whenever he could manage, but mostly when I was out walking the trap lines or hunting with my father. He would sit and talk to her, or help her with whatever work she had her hand to. Candles or hoeing or wash, whatever. At this time he was less than fourteen, so you have to think of that, how strange that was. She would tell us when we came home that Richard had been to call, sometimes with Kitty. She said he was a poor soul."
Nathaniel paused, struck suddenly with loneliness for his mother. Talking about her had brought her face to him suddenly, and very clearly. Elizabeth touched his hand and he took it gratefully.
"But to me he was barely civil. Less than. You could call it simple jealousy—I had my folks and he had nobody. I had Lake in the Clouds and he had no chance of ever getting close to it." He glanced at her, saw the deep furrow of concentration between her eyes. "You haven't seen the graves yet. It's mostly our folks, but Todd's mother is buried there, too. My father found her and brought her back to Lake in the Clouds to bury, what was left of her. I remember seeing Todd out there once in the middle of the night one summer by full moon."
"Did your mother fear him?"
Nathaniel had to laugh at that idea. "My mother didn't fear anybody or anything, except illness. Richard Todd had her sympathy and her pity, but he didn't scare her. Though sometimes it seems to me that he should have.
"So things between me and Richard weren't exactly friendly but there wasn't any trouble, at least not then. When I was nineteen I left home to go to Barktown, and I was gone more than two years. I lost track of Richard until just before I came back, in the middle of the war. Did you ever ask Richard about his training?"
"His medical training? No," Elizabeth said. "He mentioned something about the physicians he studied with."
"Adams and Littlefield. Littlefield was Clinton's personal physician on campaign."
"Sir Henry Clinton? The general?" Elizabeth looked confused.
Nathaniel shook his head. "It's a common enough name, I guess. There was a General James Clinton, too, but on the Continental side. Littlefield was his physician, and Richard was training under Littlefield, this was in '79."
"Richard saw battle?"
"Richard saw slaughter," Nathaniel corrected her. "Sullivan came up from the south and Clinton moved west along the Mohawk and then down the Susquehanna to meet him. They weren't after Tories, though. They were hoping to set an end to the whole Iroquois nation."
Elizabeth put out a hand to stop him. She cleared her throat gently. "I don't understand. You fought under your father—in—law for the Continentals, did you not? And those Kahnyen’keháka you fought with, are they not Iroquois?"
"I forget sometimes what you can't know about," he conceded. "You realize the Hode'noshaunee is a league of six nations? Well, within the league there wasn't always agreement on who to back in the war, not even within the tribes. Some fought with the Tories and some fought against them. By '79 all Washington wanted was every Iroquois out of the northwest, and fast. So Sullivan and Clinton marched that summer. Burned more than forty towns before they finished, and burned the crops in the fields and the orchards and anything that would take to a torch. Those who didn't die fled north to Canada, or if they didn't they starved in the winter after."
Nathaniel was talking fast, as if he could spit this information out like a mouthful of bitter medicine. He saw her hands trembling, and the way she clutched them together in her lap. It was not comfort he needed right now, but her attention; she seemed to realize that, and he was grateful.
"Clinton burned Barktown," she concluded.
"It was burned, but not by Clinton his self There was a big militia party from Johnstown, and they decided to get a jump on things. Thought they'd show up to report for duty with some good marks to their credit."
"Where were you?" she asked, her voice hoarse and low.
"Sky—Wound—Round sent me to Albany, to talk to Schuyler about what could be done to make peace between the Iroquois and the army." Although his face was blank, his eyes flashed with a bright anger. "Sky—Wound—Round was still hopeful in those days that the Kahnyen’keháka could have a home here."
Nathaniel wondered what she thought she was going to hear. He was afraid to tell her the whole story; he also knew very well that she would not be satisfied with less than all of it. But she had expectations of him and he feared—he knew—that he was bound to disappoint her in some of them.
"First you should know about me and Richard, before Sarah. How things got started. You know the story of how he came back to Paradise?"
"From Curiosity," Elizabeth confirmed.
"One person who you can count on to tell it to you true," he noted, satisfied with her source. "Well, you know then that Richard's uncle came to claim him, took him off to Albany. But he was never gone for long, he was always coming back to Paradise for a week or a month at a time. He said it was to visit the Witherspoons, but there was more to it than that. It was my mother that interested him."
"Richard came to see your mother?" Elizabeth repeated. She was trying not to ask questions; she wanted to leave the storytelling to him. But it was hard for her, he could see that.
"He couldn't stay away from her," Nathaniel said. "He loved her in the same way that he came to hate me, with everything that was in him. He used to come up to Lake in the Clouds to talk to her whenever he could manage, but mostly when I was out walking the trap lines or hunting with my father. He would sit and talk to her, or help her with whatever work she had her hand to. Candles or hoeing or wash, whatever. At this time he was less than fourteen, so you have to think of that, how strange that was. She would tell us when we came home that Richard had been to call, sometimes with Kitty. She said he was a poor soul."
Nathaniel paused, struck suddenly with loneliness for his mother. Talking about her had brought her face to him suddenly, and very clearly. Elizabeth touched his hand and he took it gratefully.
"But to me he was barely civil. Less than. You could call it simple jealousy—I had my folks and he had nobody. I had Lake in the Clouds and he had no chance of ever getting close to it." He glanced at her, saw the deep furrow of concentration between her eyes. "You haven't seen the graves yet. It's mostly our folks, but Todd's mother is buried there, too. My father found her and brought her back to Lake in the Clouds to bury, what was left of her. I remember seeing Todd out there once in the middle of the night one summer by full moon."
"Did your mother fear him?"
Nathaniel had to laugh at that idea. "My mother didn't fear anybody or anything, except illness. Richard Todd had her sympathy and her pity, but he didn't scare her. Though sometimes it seems to me that he should have.
"So things between me and Richard weren't exactly friendly but there wasn't any trouble, at least not then. When I was nineteen I left home to go to Barktown, and I was gone more than two years. I lost track of Richard until just before I came back, in the middle of the war. Did you ever ask Richard about his training?"
"His medical training? No," Elizabeth said. "He mentioned something about the physicians he studied with."
"Adams and Littlefield. Littlefield was Clinton's personal physician on campaign."
"Sir Henry Clinton? The general?" Elizabeth looked confused.
Nathaniel shook his head. "It's a common enough name, I guess. There was a General James Clinton, too, but on the Continental side. Littlefield was his physician, and Richard was training under Littlefield, this was in '79."
"Richard saw battle?"
"Richard saw slaughter," Nathaniel corrected her. "Sullivan came up from the south and Clinton moved west along the Mohawk and then down the Susquehanna to meet him. They weren't after Tories, though. They were hoping to set an end to the whole Iroquois nation."
Elizabeth put out a hand to stop him. She cleared her throat gently. "I don't understand. You fought under your father—in—law for the Continentals, did you not? And those Kahnyen’keháka you fought with, are they not Iroquois?"
"I forget sometimes what you can't know about," he conceded. "You realize the Hode'noshaunee is a league of six nations? Well, within the league there wasn't always agreement on who to back in the war, not even within the tribes. Some fought with the Tories and some fought against them. By '79 all Washington wanted was every Iroquois out of the northwest, and fast. So Sullivan and Clinton marched that summer. Burned more than forty towns before they finished, and burned the crops in the fields and the orchards and anything that would take to a torch. Those who didn't die fled north to Canada, or if they didn't they starved in the winter after."
Nathaniel was talking fast, as if he could spit this information out like a mouthful of bitter medicine. He saw her hands trembling, and the way she clutched them together in her lap. It was not comfort he needed right now, but her attention; she seemed to realize that, and he was grateful.
"Clinton burned Barktown," she concluded.
"It was burned, but not by Clinton his self There was a big militia party from Johnstown, and they decided to get a jump on things. Thought they'd show up to report for duty with some good marks to their credit."
"Where were you?" she asked, her voice hoarse and low.
"Sky—Wound—Round sent me to Albany, to talk to Schuyler about what could be done to make peace between the Iroquois and the army." Although his face was blank, his eyes flashed with a bright anger. "Sky—Wound—Round was still hopeful in those days that the Kahnyen’keháka could have a home here."
