iam Howe to their
general, which was to pass into history under the name of the
Meschianza, or the Medley. It was a most gorgeous pageant, wherein were
tournament and feat and dance; and to it came most of the belles of
Philadelphia, forgetful of or uncaring for the army of their brethren,
ragged and barefooted, and still suffering from their winter of starving
amid the snows of Valley Forge. The loyalist ladies were in full
feather, more literally than would now be the case, the nodding plume
then adorning the head of the dame as frequently as it did the helmet of
the soldier. Present are such famous toasts as Miss Becky Franks, Miss
Peggy Chew, Miss Nancy White, Miss Becky Bond, and others. The Misses
Shippen, equal to any in beauty and wit, do not grace the occasion by
their charms; they have fully intended to be present, and have even
ordered Turkish dresses for the occasion, 'since fancy costumes are _en
regle_; but there has been issued a parental ukase to the contrary, Mr.
Edward Shippen at the last moment declining to allow his daughters to
make merry with the foes of his country, or it may be that the
appearance of the Turkish dresses in the eyes of his Quaker neighbors
has influenced his decision, for Mr. Shippen is not a patriot. But there
are enough without these ladies, and the merriment is unalloyed. It is a
typical scene, this of the Meschianza, even though never before has the
revel been of such ornate character; for the belles of New York and
Philadelphia and the macaronis of the army often forget the perils of
war in the delights of the social function, unmindful of the waxing or
waning of the patriot or the royal cause.

Of those present at the Meschianza there was one whose romance merits
note in these pages, Miss Peggy Chew. Among the officers who on that day
and night tilted and danced with the best was one Major John Andre, and
his motto of "No Rival" was carried out at least in his connection with
Miss Chew. That they were betrothed was the general belief; that they
were lovers may be set down as certain. But a little more than two years
later Major Andre, technically if not actually guilty of being a spy,
was led beneath the fatal tree at Tappan, and poor Peggy Chew's romance
was over forever. If we could leave her in her sorrow to weep for her
lover and the overthrown cause of her king, she might pass down as one
of the ideal heroines of sad romance; but fact somewhat hampers our
sympathy with