Previously on Washington's Spies.
The British have spies everywhere.
We need the same.
If you can smuggle cabbage,
you can smuggle something more valuable...
Information.
Anna Strong is not your family.
You are a traitor,
and an adulterer, and a spy for Washington!
I know how to clean up a mess.
Synced by emmasan www.addic7ed.com
__
Babes in the nest yearning to fly free.
Hungry chicklings. Cheep, cheep, cheep.
Tell me, Henry,
have you ever observed hatchlings in a scrape?
- No, Your Majesty. - Ah, well, that's your problem, you see?
You don't observe nature.
But all of God's mysteries and secrets
are revealed in the natural world
if one has the wisdom to observe.
In the tern's nest, one will see chicks.
Tiny beaks open, crying for mother bird to feed them.
You see, it is the same for England
and one's own colonies and dominions.
You are from the Americas, Miss Wright?
Aye, Your Majesty. New Jersey.
But my sister lives in your Pennsylvania.
- Does she now? - Aye.
And chirping more happily, I expect,
now that your army has driven the accursed rebels
out of her home in Philadelphia.
Quite.
Pennsylvania is northern, yes?
North of tobacco, that is.
- Hmm? - Yes, Your Majesty.
- Your Majesty, a word? - Not now, Bill!
Can't you see I'm in situ?
You may wish to remain so, sir.
Everyone out.
Shouldn't be long.
He grows tired of the exchequer within an hour.
Don't mind me.
My mother named me Patience so I would always have a little.
We should have all been blessed so, eh?
Robert Rogers,
Lieutenant Colonel Commandant
of His Majesty's Queen's Rangers in America
and your loyal servant.
Should we curtsy?
Or have you a petition for the king?
An appointment yesterday.
And the day before that and the day before that, too.
Oh, yes, and I recall on one of those days
I made quite clear that you were on the list
- and you shall be seen when called. - Out! Get out!
I'll finish sitting for my portrait
and hear no more of this.
And get that bloody charlatan back here at once.
Please.
Miserable West Indies.
I knew... I knew we never should have...
How dare they tell me we owe?
I am the one who collects.
I collect!
They treat me as though I'm some sort of child.
I don't care what it costs
in Maratha.
I don't care what it costs in the Caribbean.
Responsibility, he says.
Yes, responsibility.
No, no, no.
Majesty, please. We must keep...
Clean that up.
- Your Majesty... - What are you doing?
Why are you always following me around? Everywhere you go.
We're down on all fours, are we now?
Like a little dog, are we? What, is it dog time?
Dog time? Woof, woof, woof!
Woof, woof, woof! Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof.
Yes?
You're a ridiculous little man.
Oh!
Oi, you kicked me eye.
Don't need your eye.
No!
Stop! Stop it!
Stop! Stop!
Stop!
Enough!
It's a bust of the king we're after.
Where has it gone? Where have you sent it?
To Versailles? To Benjamin Franklin in Paris?
How would you sail it past the embargo line?
Your Grace, please, I... I don't...
I don't...
Shall we open his head and look there for what you stole?
No, please. This boy is innocent.
If not France, then where?
America.
No, not America.
It is bound for the United States.
What's the name of the ship?
That won't help you now.
Then let us continue this discourse
in my workshop.
Sir.
Shipping receipt from the Margaretta.
Left Shell Haven three days ago. It's bound for Brooklyn.
* Hush, hush *
* There's snakes in the garden *
* Soul for sale *
* Blood on the rise *
* Hush, hush *
* Know there will come a day *
* As they hide in the cover of night *
- * I can't wait anymore *</ - * Soul for sale *
* I can't wait anymore *
* Hush, hush. *
__
"The Thoughts of a Free Man."
This is an anonymous attack on your leadership
and it's been circulating in the camp.
Look, it begins by laying the loss
of Philadelphia at your feet
and it concludes with calling for your exile.
It compares you to the demon Ba'al.
There are rumors that Horatio Gates
and Charles Lee have both written to Congress
to have you removed as the commander-in-chief.
I requested an intelligence report
on the movements of the enemy
and you come to me with rumor.
Sir, I see myself as your eyes and your ears
against all threats to your leadership.
Then what do you see and hear in Philadelphia?
Well, the...
sir, the city having just been taken,
I've not had time to cultivate a source there yet.
New York, then.
You have had sufficient time to get a person
of intelligence inside that city.
The advice from whom would provide critical
should we move to retake it.
What is the status of their defense?
I depend on you
to enlighten us.
Your man Culpeper on Long Island,
what word from him?
Well, it's... it's Culper, sir.
And it's still too dangerous to make contact.
I require a full report on New York Harbor before we move camp.
You shall engage Culper
or recommend to me a new head
of intelligence.
Yes. Yes, sir.
My courier is in the camp as we speak
and he'll be ready to set sail tonight.
Right here, you.
Come on! Right here, you.
Right in my lily-white nut sack.
Huh? Come on, you savage.
Make your people proud. Right here!
Come on!
Whoo! That's what I'm talking about!
Drinks on me, fellas.
What did I tell you? Huh?
What did I tell you? Right here.
Right?
I assume you put in the proper request for all these supplies?
Huh? Request? No.
No, these are my gifts for the cause.
Oh, I see. The black market, then.
Yeah, you do see.
Well, perhaps you might be getting the itch
to make another trade tonight.
Maybe visit our old hometown,
visit an old friend.
Nah, not tonight.
I... I'm afraid this is not a request, Caleb.
It is an order.
- An order? - That's right.
I think I'm done with those.
- Done? - Yeah.
What, done with orders?
Orders, Culper, army.
I mean, it's all a bit of a tail chaser, yeah?
But with this here, whale oil,
plucked from a fat Tory skiff off of New Haven
and resold for £12 on Devil's Belt...
that's the kind of profit that can make a man think about quitting the army
and applying to Congress for a license to privateer.
Loyal subjects harass at my pleasure
and make a bit of coin on the side.
And the best part... the best part
is the only one I'm risking
is me.
Han Yerry!
Look, Caleb, this is not my order.
- It's Washington's. - Oh, Washington.
Well, you'll just have to tell him that you're following protocol.
See, Culper doesn't signal unless it's safe,
and he ain't signaled in two months.
- So it ain't safe. - Caleb, listen to me.
I am listening, Ben.
I'm listening now like I should have listened before.
Like when you ordered to let Simcoe live,
I should have listened to reason and put my hatchet in his head.
But I didn't.
And he survived long enough to kill my uncle.
Now that's on me.
You want to get Abe killed?
That's on you.
Caleb.
Two more here
and we shall collect whatever drinking glasses
guests used during hors d'oeuvres before we seat for dinner.
Yes, ma'am.
Circle, circle.
Everything comes round.
Thomas, do be careful with Grandfather.
- Don't lean on him so. - He's fine. So am I.
You're still recovering.
Mary, there is perfection and then there is obsession.
Whitehall has been without a wife's care for far too long.
And that was before it became home to soldiers and bachelors alike.
Well, I think you've done a miracle.
I agree. In fact, I was trying to relate to Sarah
the extraordinary circumstance of your journey here,
but I just couldn't do it justice.
Will you please tell Sarah the story of the rebel raid?
The night they burned your husband's farm.
If only as an example of how to survive such.
We've had no raids in Oyster Bay,
not since the regulars took the island.
And we're as safe here on Long Island
as any can hope to be in the colonies.
But these rebels, they have no fear.
Or they have so much, they're numb to it.
They feel as if they have
nothing left to lose and they hate us who do.
So after Ben Tallmadge made his retreat from our town,
some of his men stayed behind
to plunder what they could on the way out.
Abraham and I thought they'd gone.
And so we returned home that night.
Abe had just taken Thomas out to the privy.
We were spent and just wanted to sleep
when five men showed up
vowing revenge on the son of the magistrate.
Brave Ensign Baker stood against all five.
And they shot him dead.
Mr. Baker!
They couldn't find Abraham
as he was protecting Thomas.
So they set fire to the house and fled.
How awful. Everything gone.
No, not everything.
We had each other.
And together, Abraham and I have vowed to move forward
and leave the past where it lay.
Mr. DeJong calling for you.
Thank you, Cicero.
Ah, Anna. More jugs, please.
And, deary,
could you be dearier and empty this
on your travels?
How about I save time and refill right here?
Your ale's likely superior to what we've got stocked.
Oh, Major. Welcome.
Is there a problem?
A problem?
No, I simply wish to drink an ale.
Anna, an ale for the major.
Two. Op-op.
I actually have a matter to discuss with Mrs. Strong.
If you could procure the drink, Mr. DeJong, that would be helpful.
Um, Mary Woodhull is hosting a dinner,
you see, at Whitehall.
And, well, you see, she's been trying to do so for the past month.
Host a dinner in my honor, that is.
As fortune would have it for Mrs. Woodhull and indeed the rest of us,
the capture of Philadelphia
is a victory worth celebrating,
and celebrate we shall tonight.
And I would be honored
to escort you there as my guest.
- Me? - You.
- With you? - With me.
Uh, not...
Allow me to... this is not a...
gesture or an advance in any way.
I sincerely wish to honor
the loyalty and the bravery that you showed
on the day that you leapt from your rebel captors.
I betrayed my husband, sir.
It was his boat I jumped from.
You chose loyalty to your king.
There can be no nobler sacrifice.
I doubt the Woodhulls will see it that way.
It was Abraham who reminded me of your right action
and who inspired me to take my own.
Abraham Woodhull
suggested you invite me to his home?
No, that was my idea.
But he did acknowledge the difficulties that your families have had
and felt that it's time for all differences
to be put aside and for common bonds to be strengthened.
His words, not mine.
- Good evening. - A pleasure.
Mr. DeJong.
Father, please sit down. Mary and I can greet the guests.
I'm fine. Will you please stop fussing, Abraham?
All right, all right.
Anna.
Ah, there you are.
You all know Mrs. Strong, of course.
You look fine, madam. Very fine.
Thank you.
Ah, yes.
And thank you all for having me.
- I think I may have that sit now after all. - Absolutely.
I'll... I'll help you, Father.
Major, perhaps a viewing of the Loch Lomond.
Hmm. Mrs. Strong, would you care
to view Loch Lomond before dinner gets underway?
There's nothing like it in Setauket. You really should.
By all means, then.
This way.
Father.
The major wants to chime in on the wine choice for tonight.
We have Madeira, claret, and Virginia white.
He can arrange them in whatever sequence he wishes.
All right, don't kill the messenger.
No, actually, pork.
- Who is the artist? - Jacob More.
Specializing in portraiture,
but a trip to Florence has broadened his intentions, it seems,
and perhaps made him long for home.
Major, our esteemed magistrate
wishes you to consult on a wine strategy.
Ah, indeed.
To battle, then.
Ah, ah.
- Signal Caleb. - What?
- Where have you been? - She's been watching.
- If not her, then her sewing circle. - It's been over a month.
I've hado play my part, but I'm ready now.
For what?
This is for Ben.
It's instructions for a new code book.
It explains about Ensign Baker.
How he found the book, how I shot him,
how I fired my farm and said Tallmadge's men were to blame.
You want to tell Ben the truth?
- What about Mary? - Everything except Mary.
Excuse me.
If Washington finds out that she knows, he may think me compromised.
You are compromised. She does know.
Just take it to the drop.
Signal Caleb. I have the rest in hand.
Wait.
It's a stiletto blade.
I have to get used to wearing it under the suit.
It's the one I'll be taking to New York.
New York? How?
You've no cabbage to sell and no hogs to trade
as you've burned your bridges with the quartermaster.
What excuse could you possibly...
You'll see tonight.
Ah.
Tonight we celebrate the victories in our king's name
and we honor the sacrifice made along the way.
This year I learned the power of loss.
And I'm not speaking of my farm,
but of when I nearly lost my father to a rebel bullet
and our town nearly lost its magistrate.
A possibility which should terrify all of you
considering it was I who had to prosecute in his stead.
- You performed admirably. - Father, I lost the case.
That happens. Not to me so much, but...
No.
Loss begets gain.
It inspires change.
Your near loss pushed me to take up the law again
and my loss at trial pushed me to want to win.
Especially against those who rape
and murder in the name of independence.
My toast to you tonight is a promise.
I am to finish what I began at King's College.
I aim to study the law by your example.
And come one day,
I will set out for New York
to seek an apprenticeship to a barrister.
And even if it takes me a year of going there and back,
I will see it through.
I've found my calling.
And you have made your father very proud.
Hear, hear. Hear, hear.
- Congratulations. - Thank you very much.
Shall we eat? Let's eat.
No, no. I... no. I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, Abraham. I can't let you do that.
I'm sorry.
Mary, what are you... what are you talking about?
You know why you can't go to New York.
The rebels burned your farm. They shot your father.
You are the son of the magistrate
and they hate you for that.
You were a target of the Patriots and they will try again.
You think that I'm in danger of some kind?
There have been tales of... of kidnapping
and killing of prominent Tories
all over Long Island.
Ensign Baker died defending your farm.
You yourself were beaten and robbed
on the way to York City and you wish to try again alone?
Mary.
I agree with you, madam.
And that is why I shall guarantee his safety.
He shall be granted an escort.
Now that is wise.
I hire two every trip.
No, Major, I couldn't possibly afford to pay for such a...
There is no need.
I shall provide a top man from my own regiment
who will go with you to the city and stay by your side
till your journey is over.
That way, all of our minds can be put at ease.
No, I do not need... I do not need an escort.
There's no shame in it. It's a dangerous world out there.
Thank you, sir. That's very generous of you, sir.
It is my pleasure.
It's done. Let's eat.
- Worth waiting for. - Yes, isn't it?
"I believe that it is better to die honorably in the field
- than in a stinking hospital." - I concur with that.
Cheers.
And this, this here, truer still.
Listen. "I believe that the proper methods of attacking,
beating and conquering the enemy
has never as yet been adopted by the commander-in-chief."
I couldn't have said it better myself, boys.
Who do you think is the author?
Someone fed up,
armed with common sense and the courage to speak out.
Oi, Bradford.
You might want to be more careful with that.
Your anonymous hero makes common sense
sound a bit like treason.
That's your commander that he's hacking at.
Not for much longer, I think.
What? What did you just say?
This letter is well-formed opinion based on fact.
Our esteemed commander
left his flank wide open at Brandywine.
He lost the battle, cost America her capital city.
Is it treason to speak the facts in this army now?
Fine. So...
who would you see as commander?
Congress would likely choose Gates.
Gates, right.
Sure, or perhaps your man
- Charles Lee. - Stand back.
Who was captured while with his mistress... fact.
Who escaped the enemy on his own.
What was she, a tavern wench?
No wonder he's been so absent in the field.
He's too busy playing with his whore pipe.
At least he has one. And the sons to prove it.
While poor George must content himself with collecting young men.
Why, you...
Hold him down. Hold him down.
Now we're gonna shut that pretty mouth.
With respect, sir,
the only one who punches my friend is me.
Hey.
You like that, huh?
Wait, Caleb. Hey there, boy.
Thank you.
And you were right. You were right about Culper.
It's not safe to make contact unless he's signaled.
I won't move without you, all right?
Are you all right?
Yeah, it's just a scratch.
Are you all right, though?
What, have I really been such an ass?
Well, yeah. You have.
I wish I could just walk up and ask that of Washington.
"Are you all right, sir?"
The man won't stand up for himself against his detractors.
I cannot for the life of me understand why.
Well, you know these officer types.
Hmm?
Always under pressure, shouldering burdens
us foot-wobblers don't know or can't see.
Huh?
Maybe give him some slack.
Shh. Thomas.
I just don't understand, Richard,
why we haven't done this before.
You didn't want to be celebrated.
Ah, well, I am lifting the embargo on that.
In the meantime, God night.
And good bless.
Where's Thomas?
He's asleep downstairs. Aberdeen's with him.
Don't you think we should talk?
I think everyone had a splendid evening.
Just a splendid evening, wouldn't you agree?
Almost everyone.
Well, I know I did.
Dinner, drinks, and the theater all in one night.
I thought your performance was excellent.
I learned from the best.
Touché.
An armed escort with me at all times.
Very clever.
Abraham, please.
I don't feel very clever and I don't wish to be your adversary.
Oh, no, don't be hasty 'cause you got a talent for it.
And I mean that to your credit.
You're much more than the blushing rose
my brother first told me about.
And you, you are a far more interesting husband
than the cabbage farmer that I was wed to.
Well, then we make a perfect couple, don't we?
If you hate me, just say it straight out.
There's no longer a need to be hiding the truth from each other.
We've both suffered the consequence of that.
You're a God-fearing man. I know that, Abraham.
Our savior has tested us and has given us a second chance.
And I had hoped and I had prayed
that the death of Ensign Baker, a good man,
- an innocent man... - Mary, we're...
would have opened your eyes to the folly of these schemes.
We are not talking about Ensign Baker right now.
Did his death mean nothing to you?
No, his death meant everything! It changed everything!
I had tried at every step to do right,
to protect my family, to stand for my principles,
to stay out of the fight and true to myself.
And Baker is the bloody proof that I cannot do both.
Now, if I stop now, his death will mean nothing.
Abraham, please, you're hurting me.
He should never have been in our house
just as Hewlett should not be now.
We do not need their laws,
their taxes, or their protection.
And I will not stop my mission for Washington
until the last king's man has set sail back to England.
Now, do you understand?
Who will protect us from King Louis
when his ships return to reclaim New France?
You've been speaking to my father again.
You asked what I believe in.
Then why don't you just turn me in?
Abraham, don't you know?
Sometime during that night while I was watching our house burn,
it became clear to me and it brought me peace.
I love you, Abraham.
I love your strength to stand on your own
no matter what anyone else thinks.
I love the way that you care for our son.
I love your lips and I love your eyes.
And I will do what I must to protect you.
Even if that means protecting you from yourself.
Mary...
I don't feel the same.
I know.
It's not as bad as I feared.
And I did fear that for so long.
You may go to New York to study the law, Abraham.
But I'm afraid that's all you'll have time for there.
- Woodhull. - Corporal Eastin.
On your way to post?
You are my post.
I'm your new escort per Major Hewlett.
Oh, excellent. I see.
Well, when I'm ready to travel, I'll be sure to let you know.
My orders are to not let you out of my sight.
For your own safety.
I think I'm safe here in Setauket.
Are you?
"That the enemy has been greatly deceived
having no reason to expect so valuable a prize
as the city of Philadelphia
with so few broken bones."
Tell me, monsieur,
do you have gutter journalists in your country?
In France we would have them thrown in the Bastille.
General Lee, what do you read there?
What, this?
Just a complaint, sir.
Factional, anonymous.
You don't want to read it, trust me.
You read it, then.
Please.
Sir.
"I believe that some people
have too much interest in the continuance of the war
and that the head cannot possibly be sound
when the whole body is disordered.
That Washington, the bastard of Brandywine,
should be flogged for his failure.
That the people of America have been guilty of idolatry
by making a man their god.
And the God of heaven and earth
will convince them by woeful experience
that he is only a man."
Forgive me.
Please, do continue.
A greater load of horseshit I've not heard dropped in years.
Here.
Let me.
"That the honorable Congress... " ha!
"... In many cases has been too much led
by military men."
Do you agree with that, Charles?
Of course not.
No? Oh, I do.
Those squeeze crabs in Congress
have been misled by military men,
just the wrong kind.
They'd be better off listening to a man
who'd venture into a cold night and come back with a victory.
But don't take my word for it.
I'm just the poor son of a drunkard.
A mere pharmacist's apprentice
and thveteran of only 11 battles
in this conflict for our freedom.
Now, of course, we cannot know
who wrote this grub shite,
but I would gamble he is not the equal of a commander
who rides headlong in the fray
and yet has never been shot nor captured.
An endorsement by the God of heaven and earth
- if there ever was one. - Hear, hear!
Monsieur, may I introduce to you
General Benedict Arnold.
General, this is Theveneau de Francy
of the Roderigue Hortalez Company.
Bonjour.
Will you join us, General?
Oh, sir, please.
It is an honor, sir.
Do you still have an appetite?
Always.
There is something I did not say
when I made my proposal to go to New York.
Something I kept hidden and you should know it.
You should know that I intended
to undertake a completely different task.
One far more dangerous and far less honorable.
As you may know,
I never graduated King's College.
What you may not know, what no one knows is...
while at King's I had a connection.
A shameful, misguided friendship
with several members of a secret group of Patriots.
They called themselves the Sons of Liberty.
It's not a past that I am proud of.
But it is one that could be of use now.
You were right
about the danger that we face.
There are traitors everywhere.
Now I wish to uproot them from the ground
before they strike my family again.
Uproot them how?
I believe that the Sons of Liberty may still be operating in New York,
albeit concealed underground.
If I can find them,
convince them that I'm still on their side,
I can deliver you the names of the whole group.
You wish to act the Patriot?
In order to catch traitors, I must play one myself, yes.
Of course, it...
it won't do to have Corporal Eastin standing guard while I do so.
He may still accompany me to the city,
but in order to keep up appearances,
I must act alone.
Are not the Sons of Liberty
the same cabal that sparked the Liberty Pole Riots?
The same men who murdered your older brother Thomas?
Well, you see now why I must do this.
And why I beg you not to tell my father.
He may never speak to me again if he were to learn of my past.
He may never speak to you again if you should die
while exposing the rebels or while masquerading as one.
I will not sit home in safety and comfort
while others are dying for their beliefs.
I took an oath in your presence
swearing to defeat any treasonous conspiracies made against the king.
Now, please...
let me fulfill my oath.
A wee bit late for visitors, isn't it?
You wish to see His Majesty or not?
Your Majesty,
it is a most distinguishing honor
to stand in your royal presence once more.
I do hope you recall the warm spirit
of my prior audience just 14 years ago.
The same season you enjoyed my accounts
of the methods used to trap a black bear
in his winter den, eh?
I also hope that you recall
my petition.
That being the discovery
of the Northwest Passage
and claiming it for England.
I humbly submit to you
this proposal tonight.
It is said that you are the best hunter and tracker in America
and that you are a...
killing gentleman.
You will be granted a charter to discover the Northwest Passage.
You will be appointed command to raise troops.
You will serve on full pay as a major.
And all your debts will be cleared by the Crown.
There is a valuable piece of royal property
on a ship bound for New York.
It is concealed inside a waxwork.
- Concealed? - It was stolen from the palace,
and must be recovered before it falls
into the hands of the rebel army.
And it must never fall into the hands of France.
Never.
You are to find it and destroy it
along with anyone else that may have seen it.
By my honor,
I will see it done.
__
Brooklyn Ferry, October 14.
Troop number is lower since my last trip,
but naval presence still strong.
I count two dozen warships in the harbor,
including one ship of the line...
the Eagle, Lord Howe's flagship with 60 guns.
The rest are lesser armed frigates and sloops.
Mr. Woodhull.
Land defenses on the Brooklyn side include...
- Mr. Woodhull, sir! - Hmm?
He wants your papers.
Oh, yeah.
There you go.
As you can see, I have permission
from Major Hewlett of Setauket to enter the city.
"For legal studies," eh?
The next ferry should be here soon.
You can wait over there.
Don't see why I've got to lurk about here
when I could be getting my Thomas milked in holy ground.
I'm afraid your pilgrimage will have to wait.
My bag, please.
Seems odd you need protecting all the way here
only to hoof it about alone in the city.
Makes me wonder what you're really up to
with your legal studies.
Don't wonder too hard. You might hurt yourself.
My bag.
If Captain Simcoe were here...
Your orders are from Major Hewlett, not Captain Simcoe.
And I suggest you follow them
unless you want to end up like him.
Your attention, please!
It seems we have a poet in our midst.
Shall we pause in our labors to better appreciate his verse?
- Hear, hear. Yes. - Ahem.
"Say,
must I all my joys forgo
and still maintain this outward show?"
"Say,
shall this breast that's pained to feel
be ever clad in horrid steel?
Shall no fair maid with equal fire
awake the flames of soft desire?"
"'Fond youth, ' the god of love replies,
'your aner take from Anna's eyes.'"
Oh, dear.
What a mess you've made.
All those forms will have to be redone.
This came for you.
Perhaps it's your true love writing you back.
Boys.
God, I'm knackered.
You should have seen this girl.
Voluptuous breasts. You know what I mean?
Right?
So, I showed her the silk.
Said there's more where that came from.
Never saw a woman drop her knickers so fast.
You like to read aloud? Read this.
"To whom it may concern."
That'd be you. Pray continue.
"Captain John Simcoe
is hereby relieved of all other duties
and is ordered to report posthaste to Major John André."
Posthaste. That means immediately.
I'm afraid I won't be able to finish today's forms.
Oh, dear. What a mess you've made.
Ah!
Franklin calls it an armonica.
It mechanically recreates the tones
made by rubbing a wet finger around the rim of a wine glass.
So he mechanized a parlor trick.
Perhaps, but this parlor
is testament to the man's genius and industry.
Take his lightning rod. Placed on a roof,
it guides the energy from a bolt harmlessly to the ground.
And these eyeglasses.
The lenses are split,
offering corrections for both close
and distant viewing.
You can have the house, John.
I had no idea you admired the man so ardently.
What I admire is how he imposes no bounds
on either his curiosity or his invention.
And now he wants to invent an alliance with France,
which could turn this little rebellion into a genuine war.
Not if I have any say in the matter.
Ah, here are our libations.
Good. Enough anticipation.
I'd like a report with my port.
Starting with your mole in the rebel camp, Charles Lee.
I admit, General Lee was a poor investment.
I may yet use him, but for now
I have my sights set on a bigger fish.
Thank you, Abigail. That'll be all.
Trust me, General...
I realized what we need isn't a rival to Washington,
but a man who has his trust, a friend.
Indeed, such friends as only the comradeship of war can make.
And who might this friend be?
A man whose leadership inspires both respect
and affection.
General Benedict Arnold.
Ridiculous.
Unlikely.
Arnold is the best field commander the rebels have.
Yes, but as with many men driven to succeed on the battlefield,
his virtues are often matched by his flaws.
Consider this. It's a report from one of my field agents
detailing Arnold's role in the rebel victory at Saratoga.
"We were on the verge of winning the battle
when Arnold, forced to serve under General Gates,
asked to lead a last charge.
When Gates ordered him to stay in camp,
Arnold disobeyed."
The man is insubordinate.
To Burgoyne's misfortune.
"Ignoring a volley of fire,
he single-handedly rallied the rebel troops,
turning a rout into a win."
Poor Johnny Burgoyne.
Whipped by an apothecary.
But here's the rub. Gates took full credit for the victory.
What did Arnold get for his troubles?
He was shot in the same leg
he'd already been wounded in twice before.
It'll be some time before Arnold sees another battlefield.
Time enough for that wound to heal,
but for the many slights to his vanity
to fester.
Well, supposing he is ripe for turning,
how will you turn him?
I think of it as a dance.
Right now I'm just trying to select the proper music.
Speaking of which, there's an affair
at the house of Edward Shippen this week.
- Will you be attending? - Yes, yes.
Well, that is a dance, this is war.
- There is a difference. - Trust me, General.
The key to victory is having the right man.
Our man in the heart of the enemy camp.
York City.
The city feels changed.
Petty vice and deeper corruptions have taken their toll.
That should work in my favor.
An acquaintance from Oyster Bay
recommended a modest boardinghouse.
I figured breakfast was as good a time as any
to get the lay of the land.
Morning.
I wondered if you could hard-boil a dozen of these for me.
A dozen?
Yeah, I got a lot of books to read.
These help me get through the long afternoons in the library.
Thank you, sir.
The city's inhabitants seem tired, on edge.
By my estimate, a sudden attack of 5,000 men
could take them all and end the war.
- Here you are, Mr. Woodhull. - Thank you.
The last time I was here, you couldn't take a step
without tripping over a soldier.
Now there are so few, a man barely feels safe on the streets.
Where are they all hiding?
Best to keep to your porridge, sir.
Damn! Not again.
May I make a suggestion?
You could hardly make things worse.
My father used to make me cry over this game all the time
until I learned a few tricks for myself.
He'll take my piece.
Sacrifice for the greater good.
King me, you unlucky bastard.
I don't know about any soldiers,
but those sailors, as you say,
are on a tear.
- Navy, huh? - Mm.
Building new ships over at the west wharf.
Making it hard for a man to get his goods to market.
Well, I'll steer clear of the west wharf.
I like to study in quiet.
Good luck.
Thank you. And have fun with your books.
__
What a lovely cross-stitch.
Isn't it lovely, Rachel?
Yes, very.
I'm so glad Mary invited you to join us.
It was Major Hewlett's suggestion.
I had... I had assumed that Mrs. Strong was too busy
to be frittering away time with us.
You poor thing. You must be overwhelmed.
I can only imagine how hard it was to abandon your husband
and be forced to serve as a barmaid in the tavern he used to own.
I didn't mean to sound disparaging.
Honest work is honest work.
No offense taken.
And as for my husband,
I could hardly have gone on living with a traitor.
All men are rebels at heart.
It takes a strong woman to steer them
toward a proper understanding of their obligations.
But such is our burden.
I had an idea last night.
I think that we should organize a charity.
A charity?
To buy provisions for families of soldiers
who've died during battle
such as poor Ensign Baker.
What sort of provisions?
Basic necessities... flour, salt,
good cloth, Bibles, perhaps.
I think that's a wonderful idea.
Still, I wonder how far our money will go
with everything so dear these days.
It's a pity about the poor soldiers.
But more the pity for us if our own families suffer for it.
There could be a way to lighten the burden.
As you all know, my employer
Mr. DeJong is tight with his guineas.
The man makes a vice of frugality.
Which is why he also buys his rum and supplies from a privateer.
A privateer? You mean a pirate?
A privateer is licensed by the British
to prey on rebel shipping, so it's all quite legal.
We could use Mr. DeJong's contact
and with the money we save,
the cost of Mary's charity could be quite manageable.
I don't approve of consorting with thieves
no matter what they call themselves.
Surely you approve of helping widows and orphans.
It's settled, then.
Good day, ladies.
Um, Mary,
has there been a delivery of a package for me?
What type of package?
I've been eagerly awaiting the delivery
of an item from London by way of New York.
It would be quite heavy.
Not yet, but I will keep an eye out for it.
Thank you.
And I am very pleased to see you
among this august company, Mrs. Strong.
Thank you, Major.
I'm very pleased to be here.
It seems Anna has an august admirer.
Hello.
Have you seen Major André?
No, I'm sorry. I was at the market.
I'd like to know when he'll see me.
I've already been waiting an hour.
I'll go find out, sir.
Setauket.
That's where I know you from.
You were working at Strong Manor.
Tell me, do you miss Long Island?
No, sir.
I'm happy here.
I do.
I can picture it in my mind even now.
The last time we met, you stabbed a man in the neck with this over dinner.
An enemy spy I was hoping to turn double.
Your behavior was savage.
It was that same savagery, apparently, that landed you a court-martial.
Thank you, sir.
There's no need to remind me of that night.
It's still fresh in my mind.
- But... - Yes?
I must confess to wondering why you've summoned me here today.
The Queen's Rangers lack a commander.
The last murdering savage who had that job went rogue on me,
so I need a new one.
Someone who can bridle these men
and ready them for a special mission I'm planning.
A demotion?
The Queen's Rangers are provincial forces, aren't they?
Don't touch that.
If I accepted that post, I'd no longer be a royal officer.
You'll retain your rank, Captain.
But not my uniform.
And at the risk of sounding mercenary,
I imagine my pay will be cut as well.
Would you rather go back to the commissary?
I'm offering you one last chance at resurrection.
I suppose that depends on how you look at it.
It seems to me that while murdering savages
can be purchased on any corner,
those that can command other murdering savages
are a rarer commodity.
What do you want?
Whilst we await this special mission,
may I base my Rangers wherever I choose?
You'll have a ship at your disposal,
so as long as I can reach out to you quickly,
that shouldn't be a problem.
Then consider me at your disposal.
I already do. You may leave at once.
Oh, and good luck with your new men.
Rogers trained them to hate British officers even more than the rebels.
I suppose I'll have to charm them.
Thank you, Major.
I'll tell your former mistress that you're happy here.
A detestable man.
But sadly sometimes such men can serve a purpose.
Abigail?
You want something?
Sir, I bought this at the market
with the money you paid me.
It's for my son.
He's never had anything so fine.
- I was hoping... - Say no more.
I'll have it sent out at once
with a dispatch rider headed for New York.
Thank you, sir.
I'll wrap it up right away.
October 16.
My fellow boarder's tip proves well-founded.
Heavy naval activity at the west wharf.
Cannon emplacements at the Battery.
Nine-pounder on a naval carriage
and a six-pound field piece.
* The rat's in the corner in the hot mad sun *
* Was waiting on the day for something to believe in *
* I was in the northern dust in the eye *
* Keep your eyes open *
* 'Cause you'll never take us alive *
* Ah... *
October 17.
South Ward.
Two frigates, the 32-gun Alarm
and 28-gun Sybil moored at Peck's Slip
along with the 18-gun sloop Tobago.
General Howe may have taken most of the army,
but he's left his mercenaries here.
Hessians, 200 foot.
More cannon on the Battery.
A dozen 24-pounders and half as many 16-pounders.
Canal Street.
Pits being dug every 50 yards,
three or four feet deep and lined with stakes.
No doubt to wound men who attempt a night attack.
Troop barges moored at Old Slip.
They're secured by chains and booms to keep off fire rafts.
- Hello there. Ahem. - Oh, pardon.
This isn't... your room is the next one.
Is, uh...
is there something wrong with the eggs I've boiled for you?
No, I just...
I like my eggs warm.
Who is it?
Major Hewlett.
Ah, Mrs. Strong.
I was afraid it would be too late, but then I saw your light.
How can I help you, Major?
I have received a package
from Major André from Philadelphia.
I believe it to be another gift
from your former slave Abigail to her son.
Cicero is asleep now, but I'm sure he'll be very excited to receive it.
I thought to bring it personally because I have some news
which I think you'll be pleased to hear.
Yes?
Seeing you with Mrs. Woodhull's coterie made me realize anew
how difficult this ordeal must have been for you.
Forced from your home and unable to take part
in the ordinary life of the town,
all by the treachery of a man
whose name you have to drag behind you like a sea anchor.
So, I saw the judge.
And he sees no impediment to you securing a divorce.
Oh.
You can argue desertion.
I hadn't considered it yet, but here, let me...
The only caveat is that it might take more than a year.
And so in the meantime, I thought
that I might make you a proposal.
A proposal?
I of course don't mean
in the formal sense of the word.
I, um...
thought that if perhaps you might be open
to establishing a friendship.
Entirely platonic, of course.
"Play-tonic"?
Yes, owing to the ideals of Plato
that is attributed to his feelings
with the prophetess Diotima.
Feelings, he felt,
unencumbered by the base Eros,
was a surer way to the contemplation of the divine.
Major.
Yes.
Yes, of course.
I didn't mean to presume.
Uh, good night.
Major.
Abigail's gift.
Oh.
Yes, how foolish of me.
Good night.
__
Ah, a whiff of civilization.
- Why, it almost reminds me of Paris. - London.
Tell me about our host in case I'm forced to converse with him.
The Shippens are the cream of Philadelphia society.
This ball is their way of welcoming us.
So clearly there can be no doubt about their loyalties?
Actually, it is a bit unclear.
Judge Shippen opposed the extension of royal authority,
at least where taxation is concerned.
But he also opposed last year's Pennsylvania constitution.
Though perhaps because it threatened his own authority
as much as the Crown's.
So is the man for us or against us?
Families such as the Shippens imagine they are above us, sir.
Well, above you, maybe.
And yet, with hair like that, they can't help but tower.
It's a miracle it doesn't topple.
- Who is... - Margaret Shippen, their youngest.
And as for the high roll, it's the latest fashion.
Looks French to me.
Oh, there's Cornwallis.
I can't resist a chance to tweak Charlie
about how Washington foxed him at Trenton.
A pleasure, Lieutenant.
Likewise, Miss Shippen.
The very instant I saw you did my heart fly to your service.
Do you quote Shakespeare to all the ladies?
Only the ones that stir a tempest in my heart.
I think you do, for that was well-rehearsed.
At least they don't kiss in the continental style.
It disorders one's high roll,
and I've already put poor Freddy through enough today.
Have a care, Peggy. You'll scare off all the eligible men.
- She's right. - That's because to Becky all men are eligible.
And I expect when we're her age, we'll feel the same.
- Thank you, Becky. - You're welcome, Becky.
By the time I'm Miss Redman's age,
I expect to be on my second husband.
Ever the romantic.
But first you may want to find number one.
And who would you pick, Freddy, from this pool of too eager candidates?
I guess that depends on what one looks for in a man.
If I were Peggy,
I would choose someone
tall and dashing.
Maybe someone with an elegant little braid.
Then again, I'm sure our Peggy is immune
to such superficial inducements.
Why, Peggy, he didn't even smile at you.
A man immune to the charms of Margaret Shippen.
What has the world come to?
I suspect he's more Freddy's type after all.
One can dream.
It's your deal, Becky.
Age before beauty.
Youth before wisdom.
I'll deal.
Now what is that infernal man doing?
Killing the ambiance, apparently.
Not so, apparently.
Major John André at your service, ladies.
What service are you offering, Major?
Why, a dance, of course.
May I have the pleasure?
May I have the pleasure, Miss Franks?
General, I heard a rumor
that you can lead a minuet as expertly as a charge.
- Is it true? - Perhaps.
But would your father approve, Miss Shippen?
Do you require his approval?
I thought you were the highest authority in this room
if not this city.
Major André.
Miss Shippen.
So you know my name after all.
I know your family quite well.
Or of them anyway.
And I know nothing of you.
Except perhaps that you asked my friend to dance
in an attempt to induce jealousy.
Do you really think women are so easily manipulated?
We're dancing, aren't we?
There's a fine line between confidence and arrogance, Major.
I'm sure you'll tell me if I cross it.
I'm reserving judgment.
Still, why not aim directly at what you're after?
When I saw you turn away other men, I knew a stratagem was called for.
If not to pique your jealousy, then at least your curiosity.
You like to play games, don't you?
As do you.
This may be a game to a man,
but to a woman, the stakes are very real.
Even to a very lovely young woman?
A woman's allure rests on her saying no.
But no matter how lovely, she can only say no for so long
or she ends up like my poor Becky, an old maid at 26.
You may have won this dance, Major,
but who's to say there'll be another?
Is this the fate of every man to fall under your spell?
One whirl around the dance floor and then oblivion?
How many others do you think there have been?
I won't hazard a guess, but I'm sure you entertained
some rebel officers before we came to town.
More tolerated than entertained.
What about that scamp who gave us so much trouble at Saratoga?
Benedict Arnold.
I hear he once stayed at your house.
When I was 14.
If my eyes are any judge,
I imagine he must still think of you.
Do you?
I wonder, what games are we playing now?
Boccherini's minuet.
Dare I request another dance?
Just one more, perhaps.
No breakfast? You paid for it.
Uh, no. I can't, I'm afraid. Long trip back.
Best be on my way.
How about some bread for the road?
Fine.
Let's see.
Here you go.
Law studies off to a good start?
I hope so.
It's not really for me to judge.
For a man cocooned with his books,
you managed quite a sunburn.
Old habits, I suppose.
I was a farmer before I took up the law.
I thought why waste the whole of a lovely day indoors
when I could be out committing my case to memory?
Thank you.
I had a lovely stay.
And I expect I'll be back soon.
You look like the cat that ate the cream.
I think the law agrees with me.
I'm glad someone enjoyed himself.
Well, you keep dreaming of holy ground, Mr. Eastin.
Someday you'll get your just reward.
Hold on there. Need to see those bags first.
Right.
There you go.
What's this?
- Lunch. - Let's see it.
If you must.
Looks like someone's robbed the henhouse.
Can you spare a couple?
Help yourself.
Just avoid the brown ones, though. They're a little sour.
What brown ones? All right, then. Off you go.
- Hyah. Hyah. - Wait, wait, wait.
I think I left something in my room.
I don't want to risk getting caught after dark. Hey!
Back already?
Yeah.
I think I left something in my room.
It's already been rented out.
- Oh. - You don't look well, sir.
Here you go. I still owe you breakfast.
I didn't order this.
I know, but you didn't stick to your porridge either, did you?
I wondered if you could hard-boil a dozen of these for me.
How about some bread for the road?
Fine.
It was hard-boiled.
That one had a bitter taste. I couldn't serve it.
Then why did you take it in the first place?
Would you rather I had served it to that gentleman?
I'm sorry, I... I never got your name.
The name's Townsend. Robert Townsend.
And I don't care to see you here again.
Hey, boy.
Boy.
My name ain't boy.
You calling me a liar, boy?
Oh, yeah, it's Aak... Aak-in-balls, right?
Akinbode.
Major Rogers' pet monkey.
You and that Indian.
What was his damn name?
- Awass-hole. - Awass-hole.
Aak-in-balls and Awass-hole, that's right.
Only the Indian left when Rogers did.
But you're still here. Why are you here, boy?
I earned my place just like the rest of you.
Right.
You're good with sticks.
Take it.
Go on.
See if I don't add your scalp to my friends here.
- All right, Cager.
Whoa.
Well, what have we here?
If you're looking for Philadelphia,
head to the river and make a right.
Thank you.
But I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.
My name is Captain John Graves Simcoe
and I'm your new commander by orders of Major John André.
That's a nice hat you got there, your lordship.
But it might get a little dirty where we go.
Trust me,
I've no more desire to lead a provincial force
than you have to serve under a royal officer.
These are my orders and yours are to obey mine.
If you do, I promise to mold you
into the finest light infantry in the land.
Now...
let's line up and fall in.
I think what they're saying, Captain,
by not saying sod,
is why should we obey a fop
in silly togs?
I take it, then, that you already know
all there is to know about fighting.
More than you, dandelion.
Then kill me, if you can.
You worry about the consequences, I see.
But who would ever know all the way out here?
You could kill me and then stuff my body in some animal's burrow
and say you never saw me.
That is, of course, if you can kill me.
Thank you.
One more for your collection.
Now then, where were we?
No!
My hope, of course,
is that our lessons won't have to be repeated.
Now, let's try this again.
Fall in.
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