“Nor martial shout, nor minstrel tone,
Announced their march—”
CECIL SUFFERED the night to advance a little, before she left Tremont-street, to profit by the permission to leave the place, which her communication had finally obtained from the English general. It was, however, far from late when she took leave of Agnes, and commenced her expedition, still attended by Meriton and the unknown man, with whom she has already, more than once, made her appearance in our pages. At the lower part of the town she left her vehicle, and pursuing the route of several devious and retired streets, soon reached the margin of the water. The wharves were deserted. Indicating the course to her companions, by her own light and hurried footsteps, the youthful bride moved unhesitatingly along the rough planks, until her progress was checked by a large basin, between two of the ordinary wooden piers which line the shores of the place. Here she paused for a moment, in doubt, as if fearful there had been some mistake, when the figure of a boy was seen advancing out of the shadows of a neighbouring store-house.
“I fear you have lost your way,” he said, when within a few feet of her, where he stood, apparently examining the party. “May I venture to ask whom or what you seek?”
“One who is sent hither, on private duty, by orders from the commander-in-chief.”
“I see but two,” returned the lad, hesitating—“where is the third?”
“He lingers in the distance,” said Cecil, pointing to Meriton, whose footsteps were much more guarded than those of his mistress. “Three is our number, and we are all present.”
“I beg a thousand pardons,” returned the youth, dropping the folds of a sailor’s over-coat, under which he had concealed the distinguishing marks of a naval dress, and raising his hat at the same moment, with great respect; “my orders were to use the utmost precaution, ma’am, for, as you hear, the rebels sleep but little to-night!”
“’Tis a dreadful scene I leave, truly, sir,” returned Cecil, “and the sooner it will suit your convenience to transport us from it, the greater will be the obligation you are about to confer.”
The youth once more bowed, in submission to her wishes, and requested the whole party to follow whither he should lead. A very few moments brought them to a pair of water-stairs, where, under cover of the duskiness thrown upon the basin from the wharf, a boat lay concealed, in perfect readiness to receive them.
“Be stirring boys!” cried the youth, in a brisk, officer-like tone; “ship your oars as silently as if stealing away from an enemy. Have the goodness, ma’am, to enter, and you shall have a quick and safe landing on the other shore, whatever may be the reception of the rebels.”
Cecil and her two attendants complied without delay, when the boat glided into the stream with a velocity that promised a speedy verification of the words of the midshipman. The most profound stillness reigned among these nocturnal adventurers, and by the time they had rowed a short distance, the bride began to lose the consciousness of her situation, in contemplation of the scene.
The evening was already milder, and by one of those changes, peculiar to the climate, it was rapidly becoming even bland and pleasant. The light of a clear moon fell upon the town and harbour, rendering the objects of both visible. The huge black hulls of the vessels of war, rested sullenly on the waters, like slumbering leviathans, without even a sail or a passing boat, except their own, to enliven the view in the direction of the port. On the other hand, the hills of the town rose, in beautiful relief, against the clear sky, with here and there a roof or a steeple reflecting the pale light of the moon. The bosom of the place was as quiet as if its inhabitants were buried in midnight sleep, but behind the hills, in a circuit extending from the works on the heights of Charlestown, to the neck, which lay in open view of the boat, there existed all the evidences of warfare. During the few preceding nights the Americans had been more than commonly diligent in the use of their annoyances, but now they appeared to expend their utmost energies upon their enemies. Still they spared the town, directing the weight of their fire at the different batteries which protected the approaches to the place, as already described, along the western borders of the peninsula.
The ears of Cecil had long been accustomed to the uproar of arms, but this was the first occasion in which she was ever a witness of the mingled beauties and terrors of a cannonade at night. Suffering the calash to fall, she shook back the dark tresses from her face, and leaning over the sides of the little vessel, listened to the bursts of the artillery, and gazed on the flashes of light that mocked the dimmer illumination of the planet, with an attention that momentarily lured her into forgetfulness. The men pulled the boat with muffled oars, and so still was its progress, that there were instants when even the shot might be heard rattling among the ruins they had made.
“It’s amazement to me, madam,” said Meriton, “that so many British generals, and brave gentlemen as there is in Boston, should stay in such a little spot to be shot at by a parcel of countrymen, when there is Lon’non, as still and as safe, at this blessed moment, as a parish church-yard, at midnight!”
Cecil raised her eyes, and perceived the youth gazing at her countenance in undisguised admiration of its beauty. Blushing, and concealing her features beneath the calash, she turned away from the view of the conflict, in silence.
“The rebels are free with their gunpowder to-night!” said the midshipman.—“Some of their cruisers have picked up another of our store-ships, I fancy, or Mr. Washington would not make such a noisy time of it, when all honest people should be thinking of their sleep. Don’t you believe, Ma’am, if the admiral would warp three or four of our heaviest ships up into the channel, back of the town, it would be a short method of lowering the conceit of these Yankees?”
“Really, sir, I am so little acquainted with military matters, that my opinion, should I venture to give one, would be worthless.”
“Why, young gentleman,” said Meriton, “the rebels drove a galley out of the river, a night or two ago, as I can testify myself, having stood behind a large brick store, where I saw the whole affair, most beautifully conducted!”
“A very fit place for one like you, no doubt, sir,” returned the midshipman, without attempting to conceal his disgust at so impertinent an interruption—“do you know what a galley is, Ma’am? nothing but a small vessel cut down, with a few heavy guns, I do assure you. It would be a very different affair with a frigate or a two-decker! Do but observe what a charming thing our ship is, Ma’am—I am sure so beautiful a lady must know how to admire a handsome ship!—she lies here-away, nearly in a range with the second island.”
To please the youth, Cecil bent her head toward the quarter he wished, and murmured a few words in approbation of his vessel. But the impatient boy had narrowly watched the direction of her eyes, and she was interrupted by his exclaiming in manifest disappointment—
“What! that shapeless hulk, just above the castle! she is an old Dutch prize, en flute, ay, older than my grandmother, good old soul; and it wouldn’t matter the value of a piece of junk, into which end you stepped her bowsprit! One of my school-fellows, Jack Willoughby, is a reefer on board her; and he says that they can just get six knots out of her, under her courses, and in smooth water with a fresh breeze, allowing seven knots for lee-way! Jack means to get rid of her the moment he can catch the admiral running large, for the Graves’s live near the Willoughbys’ in town, and he knows all the soundings of the old man’s humour. No, no, Ma’am, Jack would give every shot in his locker to swing a hammock between two of the beams of our ship. Do excuse me, one moment;”—presuming to take one of the hands of Cecil, though with sufficient delicacy, to point out his favourite vessel—“There, Ma’am, now you have her! She that’s so taunt rigged, with a flying-jib-boom, and her top-gallant-yards stopped to her lower rigging—we send them down every night at gun-fire, and cross them again next morning as regularly as the bell strikes eight.—Isn’t she a sweet thing, Ma’am? for I see she has caught your eye at last, and I am sure you can’t wish to look at any other ship in port.”
Cecil could not refuse her commendations at this eloquent appeal, though at the next moment she would have been utterly at a loss to distinguish the much-admired frigate from the despised store-ship.
“Ay, ay, Madam, I knew you would like her when you once got a fair glimpse at her proportions,” continued the delighted boy; “though she is not half so beautiful on her broadside, as when you can catch her lasking, especially on her larboard quarter—pull, long and strong, men, and with a light touch of the water—these Yankees have ears as long as donkeys, and we are getting in with the land. This set-down at Dorchester’s neck will give you a long walk, Ma’am, to Cambridge; but there was no possibility of touching the rebels any where else to-night, or, as you see, we should have gone right into the face of their cannon.”
“Is it not a little remarkable,” said Cecil, willing to repay the solicitude of the boy to amuse her, by some notice, “that the colonists, while they invest the town so closely on the north and west, should utterly neglect to assail it on the south; for I believe they have never occupied the hills in Dorchester at all; and yet it is one of the points nearest to Boston!”
“It is no mystery at all!” returned the boy, shaking his head with the sagacity of a veteran—“it would bring another Bunker-hill about their ears; for you see it is the same thing at this end of the place that Charlestown neck is at the other! a light touch, men, a light touch! besides, Ma’am, a fort on that hill could throw its shot directly on our decks, a thing the old man would never submit to; and that would either bring on a regular hammering match, or a general clearing out of the fleet; and then what would become of the army!—No, no—the Yankees wouldn’t risk driving the cod-fish out of their bay, to try such an experiment! Lay on your oars, boys, while I take a squint along this shore, to see if there are any Jonathans cooling themselves near the beach, by moon-light.”
The obedient seamen rested from their labours, while their youthful officer stood up in the boat and directed a small night-glass over the intended place of landing. The examination proved entirely satisfactory, and in a low, cautious voice, he ordered the men to pull into a place where the shadow of the hills might render the landing less likely to be observed.
From this moment the most profound silence was observed, the boat advancing swiftly, though under perfect command, to the desired spot, where it was soon heard grazing upon the bottom, as it gradually lost its motion, and finally became stationary. Cecil was instantly assisted to the land, whither she was followed by the midshipman, who jumped upon the shore, with great indifference, and approached the passenger, from whom he was now about to part—
“I only hope that those you next fall in with, may know how to treat you as well as those you leave,” said the boy, approaching, and offering his hand to Cecil with the frankness of an older seaman—“God bless you, my dear Ma’am; I have two little sisters at home, nearly as handsome as yourself, and I never see a woman in want of assistance, but I think of the poor girls I’ve left in old England—God bless you, once more—I hope when we meet again, you will take a nearer view of the”—
“You are not likely to part so soon as you imagine,” exclaimed a man, springing on his feet, from his place of concealment behind a rock, and advancing rapidly on the party—“offer the least resistance, and you are dead.”
“Shove off, men, shove off, and don’t mind me!” cried the youth, with admirable presence of mind.—“For God’s sake, save the boat, if you die for it!”
The seamen obeyed with alacrity, when the boy darted after them with the lightness of his years, and making a desperate leap, caught the gunwale of the barge, into which he was instantly drawn by the sailors. A dozen armed men had by this time reached the edge of the water, and as many muskets were pointed at the retreating party, when he who had first spoken, cried—
“Not a trigger! the boy has escaped us, and he deserves his good fortune! Let us secure those who remain; if a single gun be fired it will only draw the attention of the fleet and castle.”
His companions, who had acted with the hesitation of men that were not assured the course they took was correct, willingly dropped the muzzles of their pieces, and in another instant the boat was ploughing its way towards the much-admired frigate, at a distance which would probably have rendered the fire quite harmless. Cecil had hardly breathed during the short period of uncertainty, but when the sudden danger was passed, she prepared herself to receive her captors, with the perfect confidence which an American woman seldom fails to feel in the mildness and reason of her countrymen. The whole party, who now approached her, were dressed in the ordinary habiliments of husbandmen, mingled, in a slight degree, with the accoutrements of soldiers. They were armed with muskets only, which they wielded like men acquainted with all the serious uses of the weapon, at the same time that they were unaccustomed to the mere manual of the troops.
Every fibre of Meriton, however, shook with fear, when he found this unexpected guard encircling their little party, nor did the unknown man who had accompanied them appear entirely free from apprehension. Cecil still maintained her self-possession, supported either by her purpose, or her greater familiarity with the character of the people into whose hands she had fallen.
When the whole party were posted within a few feet of them, they dropped the butts of their muskets on the ground, and stood patient listeners to the ensuing examination. The leader of the party, who was only distinguished from his companions by a green cockade, which Cecil had heard was the symbol of a subaltern officer among the American troops,* addressed her in a calm, but steady tone—
“It is unpleasant to question a woman,” he said, “and especially one of your appearance; but duty requires it of me. What brings you to this unfrequented point, in the boat of a king’s ship, and at this unusual hour of the night?”
“I come with no intent to conceal my visit from any eyes,” returned Cecil; “for my first wish is to be conducted to some officer of rank, to whom I will explain my object. There are many that I should know, who will not hesitate to believe my words.”
“We none of us profess to doubt your truth; we only act with caution, because it is required by circumstances—cannot the explanation be made to me; for I dislike the duty that causes trouble to a female?”
“’Tis impossible!” said Cecil, involuntarily shrinking within the folds of her mantle.
“You come at a most unfortunate moment,” said the other, musing, “and I fear you will pass an uneasy night, in consequence. By your tongue, I think you are an American?”
“I was born among those roofs, which you may see on the opposite peninsula.”
“Then we are of the same town,” returned the officer, stepping back in a vain attempt to get a glimpse of those features which were concealed beneath the hood. He made no attempt, however, to remove the silk, nor did he in the slightest manner convey any wish of a nature that might be supposed to wound the delicacy of her sex; but finding himself unsuccessful, he turned away, as he added—“and I grow tired of remaining where I can see the smoke of my own chimneys, at the same time I know that strangers are seated around the hearths below!”
“None wish more fervently than I, that the moment had arrived when each might enjoy his own, in peace and quietness.”
“Let the parliament repeal their laws, and the king recall his troops,” said one of the men, “and there will be an end of the struggle at once. We don’t fight because we love to shed blood!”
“He would do both, friend, if the counsel of one insignificant as I, could find weight in his royal mind.”
“I believe there is not much difference between a royal mind and that of any other man, when the devil fairly gets hold of it!” bluntly exclaimed another of the party. “I’ve a notion the imp is as mischievous with a king as with a cobbler!”
“Whatever I may think of the conduct of his ministers,” said Cecil, coldly, “’tis unpleasant to me to discuss the personal qualities of my sovereign.”
“Why, I meant no offence; though when the truth is uppermost in a man’s thoughts, he is apt to let it out.” After this uncouth apology, he continued silent, turning away like one who felt dissatisfied with himself for what he had done.
In the mean time the leader had been consulting with one or two of his men aside. He now advanced again, and delivered the result of their united wisdom.
“Under all circumstances, I have concluded,” he said, speaking in the first person, in deference to his rank, though in fact he had consented to change his own opinion at the instigation of his advisers, “to refer you for information to the nearest general officer, under the care of these two men, who will show you the way. They both know the country, and there is not the least danger of their mistaking the road.”
Cecil bowed, in submission to this characteristic intimation of his pleasure, and declared her anxiety to proceed. The officer held another short consultation with the two guides, which soon terminated by his issuing orders to the rest of the detachment to prepare to depart. Before they separated, one of the guides, or, more properly, guards, approached Meriton, and said, with a deliberation that might easily be mistaken for doubt—
“As we shall be only two to two, friend, will it not be as well to see what you have got secreted about your person, as it may prevent any hard words or difficulties hereafter. You will see the reason of the thing, I trust, and make no objection.”
“Not at all, sir, not at all!” returned the trembling valet, producing his purse, without a moment’s hesitation; “it is not heavy, but what there is in it, is of the best English gold; which I expect is much regarded among you who see nothing but rebel paper!”
“Much as we set store by it, we do not choose to rob for it,” returned the soldier, with cool contempt. “I wish to look for weapons, and not for money.”
“But sir, as I unluckily have no weapons, had you not better take my money? there are ten good guineas, I do assure you; and not a light one among them all, ’pon honour! besides several pieces of silver.”
“Come, Allen,” said the other soldier, laughing, “it’s no great matter whether that gentleman has arms or not, I believe. His comrade here, who seems to know rather better what he is about, has none, at any rate; and for one of two men, I am willing to trust the other.”
“I do assure you,” said Cecil, “that our intentions are peaceable, and that your charge will prove in no manner difficult.”
The men listened to her with much deference, and in a few moments the two parties separated, to proceed on their several ways. While the main body of the soldiers ascended the hill, the guides of Cecil took a direction which led them around its base. Their route lay towards the low neck which connected the heights with the adjacent country, and their progress was diligent and rapid. Cecil was often consulted as to her ability to endure the fatigue, and repeated offers were made to accommodate their speed to her wishes. In every other respect she was totally disregarded by the guides, who, however, paid much closer attention to her companions, each soldier attaching himself to one of her followers, whom he constantly regarded with a watchful eye.
“You seem cold, friend,” said Allen to Meriton, “though I should call the night quite pleasant for the first week in March!”
“Indeed I’m starved to the bones!” returned the valet, with a shivering that would seem to verify his assertion.—“It’s a very chilly climate is this of America, especially of nights! I never really felt such a remarkable dampness about the throat before, within memory, I do assure you.”
“Here is another handkerchief,” said the soldier, throwing him one from his pocket—“wrap it round your neck, for it gives me an ague to hear your teeth knocking one another about so.”
“I thank you, sir, a thousand times,” said Meriton, producing his purse again, with instinctive readiness—“what may be the price?”
The man pricked up his ears, and dropping his musket from the guarded position in which he had hitherto carried it, he drew closer to the side of his prisoner, in a very companionable way, as he replied—
“I did not calculate on selling the article; but if you have need of it, I wouldn’t wish to be hard.”
“Shall I give you one guinea, or two, Mr. Rebel?” asked Meriton, whose faculties were utterly confounded by terror.
“My name is Allen, friend, and we like civil language in the Bay. Two guineas for a pocket-handkerchief! I couldn’t think of imposing on any man so much!”
“What shall it be then, half a guinea, or four half-crown pieces?”
“I didn’t at all calculate to part with the handkerchief when I left home—it’s quite new, as you can see by holding it up, in this manner, to the moon—besides, you know, now there is no trade, these things come very high.—Well, if you are disposed to buy, I dont wish to crowd; you may take it, finally, for the two crowns.”
Meriton dropped the money into his hands, without hesitation, and the soldier pocketed the price, perfectly satisfied with his bargain and himself, since he had sold his goods at a clear profit of about three hundred per cent. He soon took occasion to whisper to his comrade, that in his opinion “he had made a good trade,” and laying their heads together, they determined that the bargain was by no means a bad wind-fall. On the other hand, Meriton, who knew the difference in value between cotton and silk, quite as well as his American protectors, was equally well satisfied with the arrangement; though his contentment was derived from a very different manner of reasoning. From early habit, he had long been taught to believe that every civility, like patriotism in the opinion of Sir Robert Walpole, had its price; and his fears rendered him somewhat careless about the amount of the purchase-money. He now considered himself as having a clear claim on the protection of his guard, and his apprehensions gradually subsided into security under the soothing impression.
By the time this satisfactory bargain was concluded, and each party was lawfully in possession of his own, they reached the low land already mentioned as the “neck.” Suddenly the guard stopped, and bending forward, in the attitude of attention, they seemed to listen, intently, to some faint and distant sounds that were, for moments, audible in the intervals of the cannonade.
“They are coming,” said one to the other; “shall we go on, or wait until they’ve passed?”
The question was answered in a whisper, and, after a short consultation, they determined to proceed.
The attention of Cecil had been attracted by this conference, and the few words which escaped her guides; and, for the first time, she felt some little dread as to her final destination. Full of the importance of her errand, the bride now devoted every faculty to detect the least circumstance that might have a tendency to defeat it. She trode so lightly on the faded herbage as to render her own footsteps inaudible, and more than once she was about to request the others to imitate her example, that no danger might approach them unexpectedly. At length her doubts were relieved, though her wonder was increased, by distinctly hearing the lumbering sounds of wheels on the frozen earth, as if innumerable groaning vehicles were advancing with slow and measured progress. In another instant her eyes assisted the organs of hearing, and by the aid of the moon her doubts, if not her apprehensions, were entirely removed.
Her guards now determined on a change of purpose, and withdrew with their prisoners within the shadow of an apple tree that stood on the low land, but a few paces from the line of the route evidently taken by the approaching vehicles. In this position they remained for several minutes, attentive observers of what was passing around them.
“Our men have woke up the British by the fire,” said one of the guards; “and all eyes are turned to the batteries!”
“Yes, it’s very well as it is,” returned his comrade; “but if the old brass congress mortar hadn’t gi’n way yesterday, there would be a different sort of roaring. Did you ever see the old congress?”
“I can’t say I ever saw the cannon itself, but I have seen the bombs fifty times; and pokerish-looking things they be, especially in a dark night—hush, here they come.”
A large body of men now approached, and moved swiftly past them, in silence, defiling at the foot of the hills, and marching towards the shores of the peninsula. The whole of this party was attired and accoutred much in the fashion of those who had received Cecil. One or two who were mounted, and in more martial trappings, announced the presence of some officers of rank. At the very heels of this detachment of soldiers, came a great number of carts, which took the route that led directly up the neighbouring heights. After these came another, and more numerous body of troops, who followed the teams, the whole moving in the profoundest stillness, and with the diligence of men engaged in the most important undertaking. In the rear of the whole, another collection of carts appeared, groaning under the weight of large bundles of hay, and other military preparations of defence. Before this latter division left the low land, immense numbers of closely-packed bundles were tumbled to the ground, and arranged, with a quickness almost magical, in such a manner as to form a light breast-work across the low ground, which would otherwise have been completely exposed to be swept by the shot of the royal batteries; a situation of things that was believed to have led to the catastrophe of Breeds, the preceding summer.
Among the last of those who crossed the neck, was an officer on horse-back, whose eye was attracted by the group who stood under the tree. Pointing them out to those around him, he rode nigher to the party, and leaned forward in his saddle to examine their persons—
“How’s this!” he exclaimed—“a woman and two men under the charge of sentinels! Have we more spies among us—cut away the tree, men; we have need of it, and let in the light of the moon upon them!”
The order was hardly given before it was executed, and the tree felled with a despatch that, to any but an American, would appear incredible. Cecil stepped aside from the impending branches, and by moving into the light, betrayed the appearance of a gentlewoman by her mien and apparel.
“Here must be some mistake!” continued the officer—“why is the lady thus guarded?”
One of the soldiers, in a few words, explained the nature of her arrest, and in return received directions, anew, how to proceed. The mounted officer now put spurs into his horse, and galloped away, in pursuit of more pressing duties, though he still looked behind him, so long as the deceptive light enabled him to distinguish either form or features.
“’Tis advisable to go on the heights,” said the soldier, “where we may find the commanding general.”
“Any where,” returned Cecil, confused with the activity and bustle that had passed before her eyes, “or any thing, to be relieved from this distressing delay.”
In a very few moments they reached the summit of the nearest of the two hills, where they paused just without the busy circle of men who laboured there, while one of the soldiers went in quest of the officer in command. From the point where she now stood, Cecil had an open view of the port, the town, and most of the adjacent country. The vessels still reposed heavily on the waters, and she fancied that the youthful midshipman was already nestling in his own hammock, on board the frigate, whose tall and tapering spars rose against the sky in beautiful and symmetrical lines. No evidences of alarm were manifested in the town; on the contrary, the lights were gradually disappearing, notwithstanding the heavy cannonade which still roared along the western side of the peninsula; and it was probable that Howe, and his unmoved companions, yet continued their revels, with the same security in which they had been left two hours before. While, with the exception of the batteries, every thing in the distance was still, and apparently slumbering, the near view was one of life and activity. Mounds of earth were already rising on the crest of the hill—labourers were filling barrels with earth and sand; fascines were tumbling about from place to place, as they were wanted, and yet the stillness was only interrupted by the unremitting strokes of the pick, the low and earnest hum of voices, or the crashing of branches, as the pride of the neighbouring orchards came, crushing, to the earth. The novelty of the scene beguiled Cecil of her anxiety, and many minutes passed unheeded by. Fifty times parties, or individuals amongst the labourers, approaching near her person, paused to gaze a moment at the sweet features that the placid light of the moon rendered even more than usually soft, and then pushed on in silence, endeavouring to repair, by renewed diligence, the transient forgetfulness of their duties. At length the man returned, and announced the approach of the general who commanded on the hill. The latter was a soldier of middle age, of calm deportment, roughly attired, for the occasion, and bearing no other symbol of his rank than the distinctive crimson cockade, in one of the large military hats of the period.
“You find us in the midst of our labours,” he pleasantly observed, as he approached; “and will overlook the delay. It is reported you left the town this evening?”
“Within the hour.”
“And Howe—dreams he of the manner in which we are likely to amuse him in the morning?”
“It would be affectation in one like me,” said Cecil, modestly, “to decline answering questions concerning the views of the royal general; but still you will pardon me if I say, that in my present situation, I could wish to be spared the pain of even confessing my ignorance.”
“I acknowledge my error,” the officer unhesitatingly answered. After a short pause, in which he seemed to muse, he continued—“this is no ordinary night, young lady, and it becomes my duty to refer you to the general commanding this wing of the army. He possibly may think it necessary to communicate your detention to the commander-in-chief.”
“It is he I seek, sir, and would most wish to meet.”
He bowed, and giving his orders to a subaltern in a low voice, walked away, and was soon lost in the busy crowd that came and went in constant employment, around the summit of the hill. Cecil lingered a single moment after her new conductor had declared his readiness to proceed, to cast another glance at the calm splendour of the sea and bay; the distant and smoky roofs of the town; the dim objects that moved about the adjacent eminence, equally and similarly employed with those around her; and then raising her calash, and tightening the folds of her mantle, she descended the hill with the light steps of youth.
* At the commencement of the American revolution, there was no prescribed uniform, the subordinate officers being distinguished from each other, and their men, in the manner named. [1832]