02x02 - Hard Boiled

Episode transcripts for the TV show "TURN". Aired: April 2014 to August 2017.*
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Based on the book "Washington's Spies", written by Alexander Rose, "Turn" is set in the summer of 1778 and tells the story of New York farmer, Abe Woodhull, who bands together with a group of childhood friends to form The Culper Ring, an unlikely group of spies who turn the tide in America's fight for independence.
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02x02 - Hard Boiled

Post by bunniefuu »

(Includes episode 1: "Thoughts of a Free Man")

Narrator: Previously on TURN: Washington's Spies.

The British have spies everywhere.

We need the same.


If you can smuggle cabbage, you can smuggle something more valuable... Information.

(w*r cries)

(g*nsh*t)

(screams)

Anna Strong is not your family.

[Exasperated] You are a traitor, and an adulterer, and a spy for Washington!

(groans)

(woman screaming)

I know how to clean up a mess.

King George: 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.

King George: 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.

King George: 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!

(Shouts)

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...

King George: 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.

(dog barking)

(Bell ringing)

(horse neighs)

(Laughter)


(laughter continues)

(panting)

Oh!

(Laughs)

Oi, you kicked me eye.

Don't need your eye.

(laughs, squeals)

(screams)

No!

Stop! Stop it!

(Screams) Stop! Stop!

(Screams)

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.

(g*nsh*t)

(Gasps)

What's the name of the ship?

That won't help you now.

Then let us continue this discourse in my workshop.

Man: Sir.

Shipping receipt from the Margaretta.

Left Shell Haven three days ago. It's bound for Brooklyn.

(whimpering)

(g*nsh*t)

♪ 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. ♪


(chatter)

Ben: "The Thoughts of a Free Man."

This is an anonymous att*ck 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.

(Drumming)

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.

(Speaking Oneida) 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 ã12 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! (laughs)

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 k*ll my uncle.

Now that's on me.

You want to get Abe k*lled?

That's on you.

Caleb.

(Music playing)

Two more here and we shall collect whatever drinking glasses guests used during hors d'oeuvres before we seat for dinner.

Yes, ma'am.

(Soft chatter)

Circle, circle.

(Chuckles)

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 b*rned 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 sh*t him dead.

(g*nsh*t)

(Mary screams)

Mr. Baker!

Mary: 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.

(music playing)

(Chatter, laughter)


Mr. DeJong calling for you.

Thank you, Cicero.

(Coughing)

(men singing drunkenly)

(laughing)

Ah, Anna. More jugs, please.

(Man urinating)

(laughs)

And, deary, could you be dearier and empty this on your travels? (laughs)

How about I save time and refill right here?

Your ale's likely superior to what we've got stocked.

(Sloshes)

Oh, Major. Welcome.

(Music stops)

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.

(Sloshes)

(music resumes)

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.

(Music playing)

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.

(Door opens)

Anna.

Ah, there you are.

You all know Mrs. Strong, of course.

You look fine, madam. Very fine.

Anna: 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 k*ll 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.

(Knocks)

Major, our esteemed magistrate wishes you to consult on a wine strategy.

(Chuckles) 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 sh*t 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.

Abe: 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 b*rned your bridges with the quartermaster.

What excuse could you possibly...

You'll see tonight.

(Door opens, closes)

(door opens)


(chatter)

(Clinking glass)

(chatter stops)

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 b*llet 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...

(all laughing)

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 r*pe and m*rder 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.

Hewlett: Hear, hear. Hear, hear.

Congratulations.

Thank you very much.

Shall we eat? Let's eat.

(voices echo)

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 b*rned your farm. They sh*t 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.

(Stammering) You think that I'm in danger of some kind?

There have been tales of... of kidnapping and k*lling of prominent Tories all over Long Island.

Ensign Baker d*ed 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.

Richard: 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.

Hewlett: Worth waiting for.

Richard: 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.

Men: Cheers.

And this, this here, truer still.

Listen. "I believe that the proper methods of attacking, b*ating 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.

(Groans)

You like that, huh?

(Spits)

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.

(laughs)

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.

(Singing drunkenly)

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.

(Laughs)

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.

(Clears throat)

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.

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?

(Chatter)

"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?

Lee: What, this?

Just a complaint, sir.

Factional, anonymous.

You don't want to read it, trust me.

You read it, then.

Please.

Lee: Sir. (clears throat)

"I believe that some people have too much interest in the continuance of the w*r 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."

(footsteps)

Forgive me.

Please, do continue.

A greater load of horseshit I've not heard dropped in years.

Here.

Let me. (scoffs)

"That the honorable Congress... " ha!

"... In many cases has been too much led by m*llitary men."

Do you agree with that, Charles?

(Scoffs) Of course not.

Man: No? Oh, I do.

Those squeeze crabs in Congress have been misled by m*llitary 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 sh*t nor captured.

An endorsement by the God of heaven and earth if there ever was one.

Hear, hear!

(Pounding)

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.

(Thunder crashing)

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 m*rder*d 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.
(Footsteps)

(Horse neighs)


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? (laughs)

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... k*lling 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.

(chatter)

(Seagulls screeching)

Abe's voice: 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 g*ns.

The rest are lesser armed frigates and sloops.


Mr. Woodhull.

Abe's voice: 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.

(Distant applause)

(Chatter)

(distant flute playing)

(crowd cheering)

(applause, cheering)

(Feet marching)


(gasps, growls)

Man: Your attention, please!

It seems we have a poet in our midst.

Shall we pause in our labors to better appreciate his verse?

Clerk: Hear, hear. Yes.

Ahem.

"Say, must I all my joys forgo and still maintain this outward show?"

(men laughing)

"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?"

(men laughing)

"'Fond youth, ' the god of love replies, 'your aner take from Anna's eyes.'"

(men laughing, applauding)

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.

(laughs) Boys.

Man: God, I'm knackered.

(chatter)

You should have seen this girl.

Voluptuous breasts. You know what I mean?

Right?
(making squeaking noises)

(laughing)


So, I showed her the silk.

Said there's more where that came from.

(Whistles) 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!

(Music playing)

(Crowd cheering)

(Music playing)

(Distant dog barking)

(horse neighs)


(Chatter)

(music continues)

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 w*r.

Not if I have any say in the matter.

(Door opens)

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.

(sighs)

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.

André: 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 w*r can make.

And who might this friend be?

A man whose leadership inspires both respect and affection.

General Benedict Arnold.

(Scoffs) Ridiculous.

Unlikely.

Arnold is the best field commander the rebels have.

Yes, but as with many men driven to succeed on the b*ttlefield, 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."


Clinton: The man is insubordinate.

(chuckles) To Burgoyne's misfortune.

"Ignoring a volley of fire, he single-handedly rallied the rebel troops, turning a rout into a win."

Clinton: 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 sh*t in the same leg he'd already been wounded in twice before.

It'll be some time before Arnold sees another b*ttlefield.

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 w*r.

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.

Abe's voice: York City.

The city feels changed.

Petty vice and deeper corruptions have taken their toll.

That should work in my favor.


(chatter)

Abe's voice: 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.

Abe's voice: The city's inhabitants seem tired, on edge.

By my estimate, a sudden att*ck of 5,000 men could take them all and end the w*r.


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.

(laughs)

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.

(Women laugh)

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 d*ed 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.

Lydia: 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.

(Chuckles nervously)

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.

(Women giggle)

It seems Anna has an august admirer.

(laughing)

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.

(Voices continue muffled)

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.

(Voices continue muffled)

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.

André: 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.

Abe's voice: 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 ♪
♪ Keep your eyes open ♪
♪ 'Cause you'll never take us alive ♪
♪ Ah... ♪

October 17.

South Ward.

Two frigates, the 32-g*n Alarm and 28-g*n Sybil moored at Peck's Slip along with the 18-g*n 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 att*ck.

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.

(Exhales)

(knocking)

(knocking)


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 sl*ve 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.

Clinton: 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.

(Women giggli)

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.

Freddy: 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?

(Playing up-tempo music)

k*lling 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.

(Music continues)

(music ends)

(Applause)

(music resumes)

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.

(Music ends)

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?

(Music resumes)

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.

(Chatter)

(Seagulls screeching)

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!

(Panting)

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.

Owner: How about some bread for the road?

Abe: Fine.

(heart b*ating)


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.

Man: All right, Cager.

(Chatter)


Whoa.

Well, what have we here?

If you're looking for Philadelphia, head to the river and make a right.

(Men laugh)

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.

(men laugh)

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 k*ll me, if you can.

You worry about the consequences, I see.

But who would ever know all the way out here?

You could k*ll me and then stuff my body in some animal's burrow and say you never saw me.

That is, of course, if you can k*ll me.

(Grunts)

(cracks)

(Screams)

(grunts)

(groans)

Thank you.

(Screams)

One more for your collection.

Now then, where were we?

No!

(Groaning)

My hope, of course, is that our lessons won'.

(p*stol cocks)

(g*nsh*t)

Now, let's try this again.

Fall in.
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