Wyandotte - James Fenimore Cooper
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"What shall we do next?" asked the captain, in a sort of despair.
"Woods and I can never drag that tall, heavy fellow up such a distance.
He is six feet, and weighs a hundred and eighty, if he weighs a pound."
"Peace," half-whispered Maud, from a window. "All will be right in a
moment." Then drawing in her body, the pale but earnest girl begged her
father to have patience. "I have thought of all. Mike and the blacks
may be trusted with our lives--I will call them."
This was done, and the county Leitrim-man and the two Plinys were soon
in the room.
"O'Hearn," said Maud, inquiringly--"I think you are my friend?"
"Am I my own!--Is it yees, is the question? Well, jist wish for a
tooth, and ye may take all in my head for the asking. Och, I 'd be a
baste, else! I'd ate the remain of my days wid not'ing but a spoon to
obleege ye."
"As for you, Pliny, and your son here, you have known us from children.
Not a word must pass the lips of either, as to what you see--now pull,
but with great care, lest the rope break."
The men did as ordered, raising their load from the ground, a foot or
two at a time. In this manner the burthen approached, yard after yard,
until it was evidently drawing near the window.
"It's the captain hoisting up the big baste of a hog, for provisioning
the hoose, ag'in a saige," whispered Mike to the negroes, who grinned
as they tugged; "and when the cr'atur squails, see to it, that ye do
not squail yerselves."
At that moment the head and shoulders of a man appeared at the window,
Mike let go the rope, seized a chair, and was about to knock the
intruder on the head; but the captain arrested the blow.
"It's one of the vagabond Injins that has undermined the hog, and coome
up in its stead," roared Mike."
"It's my son"--answered the captain, mildly--"see that you are silent,
and secret."
Chapter XIII.
And glory long has made the sages smile,
Tis something, nothing, words, illusion, wind--
Depending more upon the historian's style
Than on the name a person leaves behind.
Troy owes to Homer what whist owes to Hoyle
The present century was growing blind
To the great Marlborough's skill in giving knocks,
Until his late Life by Archdeacon Coxe.
Byron.
Major Willoughby's feet were scarcely on the library floor, when he was
clasped in his mother's arms. From these he soon passed into Beulah's;
nor did his father hesitate about giving him an embrace nearly as warm.
As for Maud, she stood by, weeping in sympathy and in silence.
"And you, too, old man," said Robert Willoughby, dashing the tears from
his eyes, and turning to the elder black, holding out a hand--"this is
not the first time, by many, old Pliny, that you have had me between
heaven and earth. Your son was my old play-fellow, and we must shake
hands also. As for O'Hearn, steel is not truer, and we are friends for
life."
The negroes were delighted to see their young master, for, in that day,
the slaves exulted in the honour, appearance, importance and dignity of
their owners, far more than their liberated descendants do now in their
own. The major had been their friend when a boy; and he was, at
present, their pride and glory. In their view of the matter, the
English army did not contain his equal in looks, courage, military
skill, or experience; and it was treason _per se_ to fight against
a cause that he upheld. The captain had laughingly related to his wife
a conversation to this effect he had not long before overheard between
the two Plinys.
"Well, Miss Beuly do a pretty well"--observed the elder, "but, den he
all'e better, if he no get 'Merican 'mission. What you call raal
colonel, eh? Have 'e paper from 'e king like Masser Bob, and wear a
rigimental like a head of a turkey cock, so! Dat bein' an up and down
officer."
"P'rhaps Miss Beuly bring a colonel round, and take off a blue coat,
and put on a scarlet," answered the younger.
"Nebber!--nebber see dat, Plin, in a rebbleushun. Dis got to be a
rebbleushun; and when _dat_ begin in 'arnest, gib up all idee of
'mendment. Rebbleushuns look all one way--nebber see two side, any more
dan coloured man see two side in a red-skin."
As we have not been able to trace the thought to antiquity, this
expression may have been the original of the celebrated axiom of
Napoleon, which tells us that "revolutions never go backwards." At all
events, such was the notion of Pliny Willoughby, Sen., as the namesake
of the great Roman styled himself; and it was greatly admired by Pliny
Willoughby, Jun., to say nothing of the opinions of Big Smash and
Little Smash, both of whom were listeners to the discourse.
"Well, I wish a colonel Beekman"--To this name the fellow gave the true
Doric sound of _Bakeman_--"I wish a colonel Beekman only corprul
in king's troops, for Miss Beuly's sake. Better be sarjun dere, dan
briggerdeer-ginral in 'Merikan company; dat _I_ know."
"What a briggerdeer mean, Plin?" inquired Little Smash, with interest.
"Who he keep company wid, and what he do? Tell a body, do--so many
officer in 'e army, one nebber know all he name."
"'Mericans can't hab 'em. Too poor for _dat_. Briggerdeer great
gentleum, and wear a red coat. Ole time, see 'em in hundreds, come to
visit Masser, and Missus, and play wid Masser Bob. Oh! no rebbleushun
in dem days; but ebbery body know he own business, and _do_ it,
too."
This will serve to show the political sentiments of the Plinys, and may
also indicate the bias that the Smashes were likely to imbibe in such
company. As a matter of course, the major was gladly welcomed by these
devoted admirers; and when Maud again whispered to them the necessity
of secresy, each shut his mouth, no trifling operation in itself, as if
it were to be henceforth hermetically sealed.
The assistants were now dismissed, and the major was left alone with
his family. Again and again Mrs. Willoughby embraced her son; nor had
her new ties at all lessened Beulah's interest in her brother. Even the
captain kissed his boy anew, while Mr. Woods shook hands once more with
his old pupil, and blessed him. Maud alone was passive in this scene of
feeling and joy.
"Now, Bob, let us to business," said the captain, as soon as
tranquillity was a little restored. "You have not made this difficult
and perilous journey without an object; and, as we are somewhat
critically situated ourselves, the sooner we know what it is, the less
will be the danger of its not producing its proper effect."
"Heaven send, dear sir, that it fail not in its effect, indeed,"
answered the son. "But is not this movement in the valley pressing, and
have I not come opportunely to take a part in the defence of the
house?"
"That will be seen a few hours later, perhaps. Everything is quiet now,
and will probably so remain until near morning; or Indian tactics have
undergone a change. The fellows have lighted camp-fires on their rocks,
and seem disposed to rest for the present, at least. Nor do I know that
they are bent on war at all. We have no Indians near us, who would be
likely to dig up the hatchet; and these fellows profess peace, by a
messenger they have sent me."
"Are they not in their war-paint, sir? I remember to have seen
warriors, when a boy, and my glass has given these men the appearance
of being on what they call 'a war-path.'"
"Some of them are certainly in that guise, though he who came to the
Knoll was not. _He_ pretended that they were a party travelling
towards the Hudson in order to learn the true causes of the
difficulties between their Great English and their Great American
Fathers. He asked for meal and meat to feed his young men with. This
was the whole purport of his errand."
"And your answer, sir; is it peace, or war, between you?"
"Peace in professions, but I much fear war in reality. Still one cannot
know. An old frontier garrison-man, like myself, is not apt to put much
reliance on Indian faith. We are now, God be praised! all within the
stockade; and having plenty of arms and ammunition, are not likely to
be easily stormed. A siege is out of the question; we are too well
provisioned to dread that."
"But you leave the mills, the growing grain, the barns, even the cabins
of your workmen, altogether at the mercy of these wretches."
"That cannot well be avoided, unless we go out and drive them off, in
open battle. For the last, they are too strong, to say nothing of the
odds of risking fathers of families against mere vagabonds, as I
suspect these savages to be. I have told them to help themselves to
meal, or grain, of which they will find plenty in the mill. Pork can be
got in the houses, and they have made way with a deer already, that I
had expected the pleasure of dissecting myself. The cattle roam the
woods at this season, and are tolerably safe; but they can burn the
barns and other buildings, should they see fit. In this respect, we are
at their mercy. If they ask for rum, or cider, that may bring matters
to a head; for, refusing may exasperate them, and granting either, in
any quantity, will certainly cause them all to get intoxicated."
"Why would not that be good policy, Willoughby?" exclaimed the
chaplain. "If fairly disguised once, our people might steal out upon
them, and take away all their arms. Drunken men sleep very profoundly."
"It would be a canonical mode of warfare, perhaps, Woods," returned the
chaplain, smiling, "but not exactly a military. I think it safer that
they should continue sober; for, as yet, they manifest no great
intentions of hostility. But of this we can speak hereafter. Why are
you here, my son, and in this guise?"
"The motive may as well be told now, as at another time," answered the
major, giving his mother and sisters chairs, while the others imitated
their example in being seated. "Sir William Howe has permitted me to
come out to see you--I might almost say _ordered_ me out; for
matters have now reached a pass when we think every loyal gentleman in
America must feel disposed to take sides with the crown."
A general movement among his auditors told the major the extent of the
interest they felt in what was expected to follow. He paused an instant
to survey the dark-looking group that was clustering around him; for no
lights were in the room on account of the open windows, and he spoke in
a low voice from motives of prudence; then he proceeded:
"I should infer from the little that passed between Maud and myself,"
he said, "that you are ignorant of the two most important events that
have yet occurred in this unhappy conflict?"
"We learn little here," answered the father. "I have heard that my Lord
Howe and his brother Sir William have been named commissioners by His
Majesty to heal all the differences. I knew them both, when young men,
and their elder brother before them. Black Dick, as we used to call the
admiral, is a discreet, well-meaning man; though I fear both of them
owe their appointments more to their affinity to the sovereign than to
the qualities that might best fit them to deal with the Americans."
"Little is known of the affinity of which you speak[*], and less said
in the army," returned the major, "but I fear there is no hope of the
object of the commission's being effected. The American congress has
declared the colonies altogether independent of England; and so far as
this country is concerned, the war is carried on as between nation and
nation. All allegiance, even in name, is openly cast aside."
[* The mother of the three Lords Howe, so well known in American
history, viz: _George_, killed before Ticonderoga, in the war of
'56; _Richard_, the celebrated admiral, and the hero of the 1st
June; and Sir _William_, for several years commander-in-chief in
this country, and the 5th and last viscount; was a Mademoiselle
Kilmansegge, who was supposed to be a natural daughter of George I.
This would make these three officers and George II. first-cousins;
and George III their great-nephew _a la mode de Bretagne_.
Walpole, and various other English writers, speak openly, not only of
the connection, but of the family resemblance. Indeed, most of the
gossiping writers of that age seem to allow that Lord Howe was a
grandson of the first English sovereign of the House of Brunswick.]
"You astonish me, Bob! I did not think it could ever come to this!"
"I thought your native attachments would hardly endure as strong a
measure as this has got to be," answered the major, not a little
satisfied with the strength of feeling manifested by his father. "Yet
has this been done, sir, and done in a way that it will not be easy to
recall. Those who now resist us, resist for the sake of throwing off
all connection with England."
"Has France any agency in this, Bob?--I own it startles me, and has a
French look."
"It has driven many of the most respectable of our enemies into our
arms, sir. We have never considered you a direct enemy, though
unhappily inclining too much against us; 'but this will determine Sir
Hugh,' said the commander-in-chief in our closing interview--I suppose
you know, my dear father, that all your old friends, knowing what has
happened, insist on calling you Sir Hugh. I assure you, I never open my
lips on the subject; and yet Lord Howe drank to the health of Sir Hugh
Willoughby, openly at his own table, the last time I had the honour to
dine with him."
"Then the next time he favours you with an invitation, Bob, be kind
enough to thank him. I want no empty baronetcy, nor do I ever think of
returning to England to live. Were all I had on earth drummed together,
it would barely make out a respectable competency for a private
gentleman in that extravagant state of society; and what is a mere name
to one in such circumstances? I wish it were transferable, my dear boy,
in the old Scotch mode, and you should be Sir Bob before you slept."
"But, Willoughby, it may be useful to Robert, and why should he not
have the title, since neither you nor I care for it?" asked the
considerate mother.
"So he may, my dear; though he must wait for an event that I fancy you
are not very impatient to witness--my death. When I am gone, let him be
Sir Robert, in welcome. But, Bob--for plain, honest Bob must you remain
till then, unless indeed you earn your spurs in this unhappy war--have
you any military tidings for us? We have heard nothing since the
arrival of the fleet on the coast."
"We are in New York, after routing Washington on Long Island. The
rebels"--the major spoke a little more confidently than had been his
wont--"The rebels have retreated into the high country, near the
borders of Connecticut, where they have inveterate nests of the
disaffected in their rear."
"And has all this been done without bloodshed? Washington had staff in
him, in the old French business."
"_His_ stuff is not doubted, sir; but his men make miserable work
of it. Really I am sometimes ashamed of having been born in the
country. These Yankees fight like wrangling women, rather than
soldiers."
"How's this!--You spoke honestly of the affair at Lexington, and wrote
us a frank account of the murderous work at Bunker Hill. Have their
natures changed with the change of season?"
"To own the truth, sir, they did wonders on the Hill, and not badly in
the other affair; but all their spirit seems gone. I am quite ashamed
of them. Perhaps this declaration of independence, as it is called, has
damped their ardour."
"No, my son--the change, if change there is, depends on a general and
natural law. Nothing but discipline and long training can carry men
with credit through a campaign, in the open field. Fathers, and
husbands, and brothers and lovers, make formidable enemies, in sight of
their own chimney-tops; but the most flogging regiments, we used to
say, were the best fighting regiments for a long pull. But, have a
care, Bob; you are now of a rank that may well get you a separate
command, and do not despise your enemy. I know these Yankees well--you
are one, yourself, though only half-blooded; but I know them well, and
have often seen them tried. They are very apt to be badly commanded,
heaven cursing them for their sins, in this form more than any other--
but get them fairly at work, and the guards will have as much as they
can wish, to get along with. Woods will swear to _that_."
"Objecting to the _mode_ of corroboration, my dear sir, I can
support its substance. Inclined as I am to uphold Caesar, and to do
honour to the Lord's anointed, I will not deny my countrymen's courage;
though I think, Willoughby, now I recall old times, it was rather the
fashion of our officers to treat it somewhat disrespectfully."
"It was, indeed," answered the captain, thoughtfully--"and a silly
thing it was. They mistook the nature of a mild and pacific people,
totally without the glitter and habits of military life, for a timid
people; and I have often heard the new hands in the colonies speak of
their inhabitants with contempt on this very head. Braddock had that
failing to a great degree; and yet this very major Washington saved his
army from annihilation, when it came to truly desperate work. Mark the
words of a much older soldier than yourself, Bob; you may have more of
the bravery of apparel, and present a more military aspect; may even
gain advantages over them by means of higher discipline, better arms,
and more accurate combinations; but, when you meet them fairly, depend
on it you will meet dangerous foes, and men capable of being sooner
drilled into good soldiers than any nation I have met with. Their great
curse is, and probably will be, in selecting too many of their officers
from classes not embued with proper military pride, and altogether
without the collaterals of a good military education."
To all this the major had nothing very material to object, and
remembering that the silent but thoughtful Beulah had a husband in what
he called the rebel ranks, he changed the subject. Arrangements were
now made for the comfort and privacy of the unlooked-for guest.
Adjoining the library, a room with no direct communication with the
court by means of either door, or window, was a small and retired
apartment containing a cot-bed, to which the captain was accustomed to
retire in the cases of indisposition, when Mrs. Willoughby wished to
have either of her daughters with herself, on their account, or on her
own. This room was now given to the major, and in it he would be
perfectly free from every sort of intrusion. He might eat in the
library, if necessary; though, all the windows of that wing of the
house opening outward, there was little danger of being seen by any but
the regular domestics of the family, all of whom were to be let into
the secret of his presence, and all of whom were rightly judged to be
perfectly trustworthy.
As the evening promised to be dark, it was determined among the
gentlemen that the major should disguise himself still more than he was
already, and venture outside of the building, in company with his
father, and the chaplain, as soon as the people, who were now crowded
into the vacant rooms in the empty part of the house, had taken
possession of their respective quarters for the night. In the meantime
a hearty supper was provided for the traveller in the library, the
bullet-proof window-shutters of which room, and indeed of all the
others on that side of the building, having first been closed, in order
that lights might be used, without drawing a shot from the adjoining
forest.
"We are very safe, here," observed the captain, as his son appeased his
hunger, with the keen relish of a traveller. "Even Woods might stand a
siege in a house built and stockaded like this. Every window has solid
bullet-proof shutters, with fastenings not easily broken; and the logs
of the buildings might almost defy round-shot. The gates are all up,
one leaf excepted, and that leaf stands nearly in its place, well
propped and supported. In the morning it shall be hung like the others.
Then the stockade is complete, and has not a speck of decay about it
yet. We shall keep a guard of twelve men up the whole night, with three
sentinels outside of the buildings; and all of us will sleep in our
clothes, and on our arms. My plan, should an assault be made, is to
draw in the sentinels, as soon as they have discharged their pieces, to
close the gate, and man the loops. The last are all open, and spare
arms are distributed at them. I had a walk made within the ridge of the
roofs this spring, by which men can run round the whole Hut, in the
event of an attempt to, set fire to the shingles, or fire over the
ridge at an enemy at the stockades. It is a great improvement, Bob;
and, as it is well railed, will make a capital station in a warm
conflict, before the enemy make their way within the stockade."
"We must endeavour not to let them get there, sir," answered the
major--"but, as soon as your people are housed, I shall have an
opportunity to reconnoitre. Open work is most to the taste of us
regulars."
"Not against an Indian enemy. You will be glad of such a fortress as
this, boy, before the question of independence, or no independence,
shall be finally settled. Did not Washington entrench in the town?"
"Not much on that side of the water, sir; though he was reasonably well
in the ground on Long Island. _There_ he had many thousands of
men, and works of some extent."
"And how did he get off the island?" demanded the captain, turning
round to look his son in the face. "The arm of the sea is quite half-a-
mile in width, at that point--how did he cross it in the face of a
victorious army?--or did he only save himself, while you captured his
troops?"
The major coloured a little, and then he looked at Beulah and smiled
good-naturedly.
"I am so surrounded by rebels here," he said, "that it is not easy to
answer all your questions, sir. Beat him we did, beyond a question, and
that with a heavy loss to his army--and out of New York we have driven
him, beyond a question--but--I will not increase Beulah's conceit by
stating any more!"
"If you can tell me anything kind of Evert, Bob, you will act like a
brother in so doing," said the gentle wife.
"Ay, Beekman did well too, they said. I heard some of our officers
extolling a charge he made; and to own the truth, I was not sorry to be
able to say he was my sister's husband, since a fierce rebel she would
marry. All our news of _him_ is to his credit; and now I shall get
a kiss for my pains."
The major was not mistaken. With a swelling heart, but smiling
countenance, his sister threw herself into his arms, when she kissed
and was kissed until the tears streamed down her cheeks.
"It was of Washington I intended to speak, sir," resumed the major,
dashing a tear or two from his own eyes, as Beulah resumed her chair.
"His retreat from the island is spoken of as masterly, and has gained
him great credit. He conducted it in person, and did not lose a man. I
heard Sir William mention it as masterly."
"Then by heaven, America will prevail in this contest!" exclaims I the
captain, striking his fist upon the table, with a suddenness and force
that caused all in the room to start. "If she has a general who can
effect such a movement skilfully, the reign of England is over, here.
Why, Woods, Xenophon never did a better thing! The retreat of the ten
thousand was boy's play to getting across that water. Besides, your
victory could have been no great matter, Bob, or it would never have
been done."
"Our victory was respectable, sir, while I acknowledge that the retreat
was great. No one among us denies it, and Washington is always named
with respect in the army."
In a minute more, Big Smash came in, under the pretence of removing the
dishes, but, in reality to see Master Bob, and to be noticed by him.
She was a woman of sixty, the mother of Little Smash, herself a
respectable matron of forty; and both had been born in the household of
Mrs. Willoughby's father, and had rather more attachment for any one of
her children than for all of their own, though each had been reasonably
prolific. The _sobriquets_ had passed into general use, and the
real names of Bess and Ma_ri'_ were nearly obsolete. Still, the
major thought it polite to use the latter on the present occasion.
"Upon my word, Mrs. Bess," he said, shaking the old woman cordially by
the hand, though he instinctively shrunk back from the sight of a pair
of lips that were quite ultra, in the way of pouting, which used often
to salute him twenty years before--"Upon my word, Mrs. Bess, you
improve in beauty, everytime I see you. Old age and you seem to be
total strangers to each other. How do you manage to remain so comely
and so young?"
"God send 'e fus', Masser Bob, heabben be praise, and a good conscience
do 'e las'. I _do_ wish you could make ole Plin hear _dat_!
He nebber t'ink any good look, now-a-day, in a ole wench."
"Pliny is half blind. But that is the way with most husbands, Smash;
they become blind to the charms of their spouses, after a few years of
matrimony."