Wyandotte - James Fenimore Cooper
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It was, perhaps, fortunate to the design of the Rev. Mr. Woods, that
neither the captain nor the serjeant was in the way, to arrest it. This
the former would certainly have done, out of regard to his friend, and
the last out of regard to "orders." But these military personages were
in the library, in deep consultation concerning the next step necessary
to take. This left the coast clear, no one belonging to the guard
conceiving himself of sufficient authority to stop the chaplain, more
especially when he appeared in his wig and surplice. Jamie Allen was a
corporal, by courtesy; and, at the first summons, he caused the outer
gate to be unlocked and unbarred, permitting the chaplain to make his
egress, attended by his own respectful bows. This Jamie did, out of
reverence to religion, generally; though the surplice ever excited his
disgust; and, as for the Liturgy, he deemed it to be a species of
solemn mockery of worship.
The captain did not reappear outside of the court, until the chaplain,
who had made the best of his way towards the rocks, was actually
stalking like a ghost among ruins, through the deserted shantees of the
late encampment.
"What in the name of Indian artifice is the white animal that I see
moving about on the rocks?" demanded the captain, whose look was first
turned in the direction of the camp.
"It seems an Indian wrapped up in a shirt, your honour--as I live, sir,
it has a cocked hat on its head!"
"Na--na"--interrupted Jamie, "ye'll no be guessing the truth this time,
without the aid of a little profane revelation. The chiel ye see yan,
yer honour, is just chaplain Woods."
"Woods--the devil!"
"Na--na--yer honour, it's the reverend gentleman, hissel', and no the
de'il, at a'. He's in his white frock--though why he didn't wear his
black gairment is more than I can tell ye--but there he is, walking
about amang the Indian dwellings, all the same as if they were so many
pews in his ain kirk."
"And, how came you to let him pass the gate, against orders?"
"Well, and it is aboot the orders of the priesthood, that he so often
preaches, and seeing him in the white gairment, and knowing ye've so
many fast-days, and Christmas', in the kirk o' England, I fancied it
might be a bit matter o' prayer he wished to offer up, yan, in the
house on the flat; and so I e'en thought church prayers better than no
prayers at all, in such a strait."
As it was useless to complain, the captain was fain to submit, even
beginning to hope some good might come of the adventure, when he saw
Mr. Woods walking unmolested through the deserted camp. The glass was
levelled, and the result was watched in intense interest.
The chaplain first explored every shantee, fearlessly and with
diligence. Then he descended the rocks, and was lost to view, like
those who had preceded him. A feverish hour passed, without any symptom
of human life appearing in the direction of the mills. Sometimes those
who watched, fancied they beheld a smoke beginning to steal up over the
brow of the rocks, the precursor of the expected conflagration; but a
few moments dispersed the apprehension and the fancied smoke together.
The day advanced, and yet the genius of solitude reigned over the
mysterious glen. Not a sound emerged from it, not a human form was seen
near it, not a sign of a hostile assault or of a friendly return could
be detected. All in that direction lay buried in silence, as if the
ravine had swallowed its tenants, in imitation of the grave.
Chapter XVIII.
To deck my list by Nature were design'd
Such shining expletives of human kind;
Who want, while through blank life they dream along,
Sense to be right, and passion to be wrong.
Young.
The disappearance of Mr. Woods occasioned no uneasiness at first. An
hour elapsed before the captain thought it necessary to relate the
occurrence to his family, when a general panic prevailed among the
females. Even Maud had hoped the savages would respect the sacred
character of the divine, though she knew not why; and here was one of
her principal grounds of hope, as connected with Robert Willoughby,
slid from beneath her feet.
"What _can_ we do, Willoughby?" asked the affectionate mother,
almost reduced to despair. "I will go myself, in search of my son--they
will respect _me_, a woman and a mother."
"You little know the enemy we have to deal with, Wilhelmina, or so rash
a thought could not have crossed your mind. We will not be precipitate;
a few hours may bring some change to direct us. One thing I learn from
Woods' delay. The Indians cannot be far off, and he must be with them,
or in their hands; else would he return alter having visited the mills
and the houses beneath the cliffs."
This sounded probable, and all felt there was a relief in fancying that
their friends were still near them, and were not traversing the
wilderness as captives.
"I feel less apprehension than any of you," observed Beulah, in her
placid manner. "If Bob is in the hands of an American party, the
brother-in-law of Evert Beekman cannot come to much harm; with British
Indians he will be respected for his own sake, as soon as he can make
himself known."
"I have thought of all this, my child"--answered the father,
musing--"and there is reason in it. It will be difficult, however, for
Bob to make his real character certain, in his present circumstances.
He does not appear the man he is; and should there even be a white
among his captors who can read, he has not a paper with him to sustain
his word."
"But, he promised me faithfully to use Evert's name, did he ever fall
into American hands"--resumed Beulah, earnestly--"and Evert has said,
again and again, that _my_ brother could never be his enemy."
"Heaven help us all, dear child!" answered the captain, kissing his
daughter--"It is, indeed, a cruel war, when such aids are to be called
in for our protection. We will endeavour to be cheerful,
notwithstanding; for we know of nothing yet, that ought to alarm us,
out of reason; all may come right before the sun set."
The captain looked at his family, and endeavoured to smile, but he met
no answering gleam of happiness on either face; nor was his own effort
very successful. As for his wife, she was never known to be aught but
miserable, while any she loved were in doubtful safety. She lived
entirely out of herself, and altogether for her husband, children, and
friends; a woman less selfish, or one more devoted to the affections,
never existing. Then Beulah, with all her reliance on the magic of
Evert's name, and with the deep feelings that had been awakened within
her, as a wife and a mother, still loved her brother as tenderly as
ever. As for Maud, the agony she endured was increased by her efforts
to keep it from breaking out in some paroxysm that might betray her
secret; and her features were getting an expression of stern
resolution, which, blended with her beauty, gave them a grandeur her
father had never before seen in her bright countenance.
"This child suffers on Bob's account more than any of us"--observed the
captain, drawing his pet towards him, placing her kindly on his knee,
and folding her to his bosom. "She has no husband yet, to divide her
heart; all her love centres in her brother."
The look which Beulah cast upon her father was not reproachful, for
that was an expression she would not have indulged with him; but it was
one in which pain and mortification were so obvious, as to induce the
mother to receive her into her own arms.
"Hugh, you are unjust to Beulah"--said the anxious mother--"Nothing can
ever cause this dear girl, either, to forget to feel for any of us."
The captain's ready explanation, and affectionate kiss, brought a smile
again to Beulah's face, though it shone amid tears. All was, however,
immediately forgotten; for the parties understood each other, and Maud
profited by the scene to escape from the room. This flight broke up the
conference; and the captain, after exhorting his wife and daughter to
set an example of fortitude to the rest of the females, left the house,
to look after his duties among the men.
The absence of Joel cast a shade of doubt over the minds of the
disaffected. These last were comparatively numerous, comprising most of
the native Americans in the Hut, the blacks and Joyce excepted. Strides
had been enabled to effect his purposes more easily with his own
countrymen by working on their good qualities, as well as on their bad.
Many of these men--most of them, indeed--meant well, but their
attachment to the cause of their native land laid them open to
assaults, against which Mike and Jamie Allen were insensible. Captain
Willoughby was an Englishman, in the first place; he was an old army-
officer, in the next; and he had an only son who was confessedly in
open arms against the independence of America. It is easy to see how a
demagogue like Joel, who had free access to the ears of his comrades,
could improve circumstances like these to his own particular objects.
Nevertheless, he had difficulties to contend with. If it were true that
parson Woods still insisted on praying for the king, it was known that
the captain laughed at him for his reverence for Caesar; if Robert
Willoughby were a major in the royal forces, Evert Beekman was a
colonel in the continentals; if the owner of the manor were born in
England, his wife and children were born in America; and he, himself,
was often heard to express his convictions of the justice of most of
that for which the provincials were contending--_all_, the worthy
captain had not yet made up his mind to concede to them.
Then, most of the Americans in the Hut entertained none of the selfish
and narrow views of Joel and the miller. Their wish was to do right, in
the main; and though obnoxious to the charge of entertaining certain
prejudices that rendered them peculiarly liable to become the dupes of
a demagogue, they submitted to many of the better impulses, and were
indisposed to be guilty of any act of downright injustice. The perfect
integrity with which they had ever been treated, too, had its
influence; nor was the habitual kindness of Mrs. Willoughby to their
wives and children forgotten; nor the gentleness of Beulah, or the
beauty, spirit, and generous impulses of Maud. In a word, the captain,
when he went forth to review his men, who were now all assembled under
arms within the palisades for that purpose, went to meet a wavering,
rather than a positively disaffected or rebellious body.
"Attention!" cried Joyce, as his commanding officer came in front of a
line which contained men of different colours, statures, ages, dresses,
countries, habits and physiognomies, making it a sort of epitome of the
population of the whole colony, as it existed in that day--"Attention!
Present, arms."
The captain pulled off his hat complacently, in return to this salute,
though he was obliged to smile at the array which met his eyes. Every
one of the Dutchmen had got his musket to an order, following a sort of
fugleman of their own; while Mike had invented a "motion" that would
have puzzled any one but himself to account for. The butt of the piece
was projected towards the captain, quite out of line, while the barrel
rested on his own shoulder. Still, as his arms were extended to the
utmost, the county Leitrim-man fancied he was performing much better
than common. Jamie had correct notions of the perpendicular, from
having used the plumb-bob so much, though even he made the trifling
mistake of presenting arms with the lock outwards. As for the Yankees,
they were all tolerably exact, in everything but time, and the line;
bringing their pieces down, one after another, much as they were in the
practice of following their leaders, in matters of opinion. The negroes
defied description; nor was it surprising they failed, each of them
thrusting his head forward to see how the "motions" looked, in a way
that prevented any particular attention to his own part of the duty.
The serjeant had the good sense to see that his drill had not yet
produced perfection, and he brought his men to a shoulder again, as
soon as possible. In this he succeeded perfectly, with the exception
that just half of the arms were brought to the right, and the other
half to the left shoulders.
"We shall do better, your honour, as we get a little more drill"--said
Joyce, with an apologetic salute--"Corporal Strides has a tolerable
idea of the manual, and he usually acts as our fugleman. When he gets
back, we shall improve."
"When he gets back, serjeant--can you, or any other man, tell when that
will be?"
"Yes, yer honour," sputtered Mike, with the eagerness of a boy. "I'se
the man to tell yees that same."
"_You_?--What can _you_ know, that is not known to all of us,
my good Michael?"
"I knows what I sees; and if yon isn't Misther Strhides, then I am not
acquainted with his sthraddle."
Sure enough, Joel appeared at the gate, as Mike concluded his
assertions. How he got there, no one knew; for a good look-out had been
kept in the direction of the mill; and, yet here was the overseer
applying for admission, as if he had fallen from the clouds! Of course,
the application was not denied, though made in a manner so unexpected,
and Joel stood in front of his old comrades at the hoe and plough, if
not in arms, in less than a minute. His return was proclaimed through
the house in an incredibly short space of time, by the aid of the
children, and all the females came pouring out from the court to learn
the tidings, led by Mrs. Strides and her young brood.
"Have you anything to communicate to me in private, Strides?" the
captain demanded, maintaining an appearance of _sang froid_ that
he was far from feeling--"or, can your report be made here, before the
whole settlement?"
"It's just as the captain pleases," answered the wily demagogue;
"though, to my notion, the people have a right to know all, in an
affair that touches the common interest."
"Attention! men"--cried the serjeant--"By platoons, to the right"
"No matter, Joyce," interrupted the captain, waving his hand--"Let the
men remain. You have held communications with our visiters, I know,
Strides?"
"We have, captain Willoughby, and a desperate sort of visiters be they!
A more ugly set of Mohawks and Onondagas I never laid eyes on."
"As for their appearance, it is matter of indifference to me--what is
the object of their visit?"
"I mean ugly behaved, and they deserve all I say of 'em. Their ar'nd,
according to their own tell, is to seize the captain, and his family,
in behalf of the colonies."
As Joel uttered this, he cast a glance along the line of faces paraded
before him, in order to read the effect it might produce. That it was
not lost on some, was as evident as that it was on others. The captain,
however, appeared unmoved, and there was a slight air of incredulity in
the smile that curled his lip.
"This, then, you report as being the business of the party in coming to
this place!" he said, quietly.
"I do, sir; and an ugly ar'nd it is, in times like these."
"Is there any person in authority in a party that pretends to move
about the colony, with such high duties?"
"There's one or two white men among 'em, if that's what the captain
means; they pretend to be duly authorised and appointed to act in
behalf of the people."
At each allusion to the people, Joel invariably looked towards his
particular partisans, in order to note the effect the use of the word
might produce. On the present occasion, he even ventured to wink at the
miller.
"If acting on authority, why do they keep aloof?--I have no such
character for resisting the laws, that any who come clothed with its
mantle need fear resistance."
"Why, I s'pose they reason in some such manner as this. There's
_two_ laws in operation at this time; the king's law, and the
people's law. I take it, this party comes in virtue of the people's
law, whereas it is likely the law the captain means is the king's law.
The difference is so great, that one or t'other carries the day, just
as the king's friends or the people's friends happen to be the
strongest. These men don't like to trust to _their_ law, when the
captain may think it safest to trust a little to his'n."
"And all this was told you, Strides, in order to be repeated to me?"
"Not a word on't; it's all my own consait about the matter. Little
passed between us."
"And, now," said the captain, relieving his breast by a long sigh, "I
presume I may inquire about your companion. You probably have
ascertained who he is?"
"Lord, captain Willoughby, I was altogether dumbfounded, when the truth
came upon me of a sudden! I never should have known the major in that
dress, in the world, or out of the world either; but he walks so like
the captain, that as I followed a'ter him, I said to myself, who
_can_ it be?--and then the walk came over me, as it might be; and
then I remembered last night, and the stranger that was out with the
captain, and how he occupied the room next to the library, and them
things; and so, when I come to look in his face, there was the major
sure enough!"
Joel lied famously in this account; but he believed himself safe, as no
one could very well contradict him.
"Now, you have explained the manner in which you recognised my son,
Strides," added the captain, "I will thank you to let me know what has
become of him?"
"He's with the savages. Having come so far to seize the father, it
wasn't in natur' to let the son go free, when he walked right into the
lion's den, like."
"And how could the savages know he _was_ my son? Did they, too,
recognise the family walk?"
Strides was taken aback at this question, and he even had the grace to
colour a little. He saw that he was critically placed; for, in addition
to the suggestions of conscience, he understood the captain
sufficiently to know he was a man who would not trifle, in the event of
his suspicions becoming active. He knew he deserved the gallows, and
Joyce was a man who would execute him in an instant, did his commander
order it. The idea fairly made the traitor tremble in his shoes.
"Ah! I've got a little ahead of my story," he said, hastily. "But,
perhaps I had best tell everything as it happened--"
"That will be the simplest and clearest course. In order that there be
no interruption, we will go into my room, where Joyce will follow us,
as soon as he has dismissed his men."
This was done, and in a minute or two the captain and Joel were seated
in the library, Joyce respectfully standing; the old soldier always
declining to assume any familiarity with his superior. We shall give
the substance of most of Joel's report in our own language; preferring
it, defective as it is, to that of the overseer's, which was no bad
representative of his cunning, treacherous and low mind.
It seems, then, that the bearers of the flag were amicably received by
the Indians. The men towards whom they were led on the rocks, were the
chiefs of the party, who treated them with proper respect. The sudden
movement was explained to them, as connected with their meal; and the
chiefs, accompanied by the major and Strides, proceeded to the house of
the miller. Here, by means of a white man for an interpreter, the major
had demanded the motive of the strangers in coming into the settlement.
The answer was a frank demand for the surrender of the Hut, and all it
contained, to the authorities of the continental congress. The major
had endeavoured to persuade a white man, who professed to hold the
legal authority for what was doing, of the perfectly neutral
disposition of his father, when, according to Joel's account, to his
own great astonishment, the argument was met by the announcement of
Robert Willoughby's true character, and a sneering demand if it were
likely a man who had a son in the royal army, and who had kept that son
secreted in his own house, would be very indifferent to the success of
the royal cause.
"They've got a wonderful smart man there for a magistrate, I can tell
you," added Joel, with emphasis, "and he ra'ally bore as hard on the
major as a lawyer before a court. How he found out that the major was
at the Hut is a little strange, seein' that none of us know'd of it;
but they've got extraor'nary means, now-a-days."
"And, did major Willoughby admit his true character, when charged with
being in the king's service?"
"He did--and like a gentleman. He only insisted that his sole ar'nd out
here was to see his folks, and that he intended to go back to York the
moment he had paid his visit."
"How did the person you mention receive his explanations?"
"Waal, to own the truth, he laugh'd at it, like all natur'. I don't
believe they put any great weight on a syllable the major told 'em. I
never see critturs with such onbelievin' faces! After talking as long
as suited themselves, they ordered the major to be shut up in a
buttery, with a warrior at the door for a sentinel; a'ter which they
took to examining me."
Joel then proceeded with an account--his own account, always, be it
remembered--of what passed between himself and the strangers. They had
questioned him closely touching the nature of the defences of the Hut,
the strength of the garrison, its disposition, the number and quality
of the arms, and the amount of the ammunition.
"You may depend on't, I gave a good account," continued the overseer,
in a self-satisfied way. "In the first place, I told 'em, the captain
had a lieutenant with him that had sarved out the whull French war;
then I put the men up to fifty at once, seein' it was just as easy to
say that, as thirty or thirty-three. As to the arms, I told 'em more
than half the pieces were double-barrelled; and that the captain, in
particular, carried a rifle that had killed nine savages in one fight."
"You were much mistaken in that, Joel. It is true, that a celebrated
chief once fell by this rifle; even that is not a matter for boasting."
"Waal, them that told me on't, said that _two_ had fallen before
it, and I put it up to nine at once, to make a good story better. Nine
men had a more desperate sound than two; and when you _do_ begin
to brag, a man shouldn't be backward. I thought, howsever, that they
was most non-plussed, when I told 'em of the field-piece."
"The field-piece, Strides!--Why did you venture on an exaggeration that
any forward movement of theirs must expose?"
"We'll see to that, captain--we'll see to that. Field-pieces are
desperate dampers to Indian courage, so I thought I'd just let 'em have
a six-pounder, by way of tryin' their natur's. They look'd like men
goin' to execution, when I told 'em of the cannon, and what a history
it had gone through."
"And what may have been this history, pray?"
"I just told 'em it was the very gun the captain had took from the
French, about which we've all heer'n tell; and that, as everybody
knows, was a desperate piece, havin' killed more than a hundred
reg'lars, before the captain charged baggonet on it, and carried it
off."
This was a very artful speech, since it alluded to the most
distinguished exploit of captain Willoughby's military life; one of
which it would have been more than human, had he not been a little
proud. All who knew him, had heard of this adventure, and Joel
cunningly turned it to account, in the manner seen. The allusion served
to put to sleep, for the moment at least, certain very unpleasant
suspicions that were getting to be active in his superior's mind.
"There was no necessity, Strides, for saying anything about that
affair"--the captain, modestly, interposed. "It happened a long time
since, and might well be forgotten. Then, you know we have no gun to
support your account, when our deficiency is ascertained, it will all
be set down to the true cause--a wish to conceal our real weakness."
"I beg your honour's pardon," put in Joyce--"I think Strides has acted
in a military manner in this affair. It is according to the art of war
for the besieged to pretend to but stronger than they are; and even
besiegers sometimes put a better face than the truth will warrant, on
their strength. Military accounts, as your honour well knows, never
pass exactly for gospel, unless it be with the raw hands."
"Then," added Joel, "I know'd what I was about, seem that we had a
cannon ready for use, as soon as it could be mounted."
"I think I understand Strides, your honour," resumed the serjeant. "I
have carved a 'quaker' as an ornament for the gateway, intending to saw
it in two, in the middle, and place the pieces, crosswise, over the
entrance, as your honour has often seen such things in garrisons--like
the brass ornaments on the artillery caps, I mean, your honour. Well,
this gun is finished and painted, and I intended to split it, and have
it up this very week. I suppose Joel has had it in his mind, quaker
fashion."
"The Serjeant's right. That piece looks as much like a real cannon as
one of our cathechisms is like another. The muzzle is more than a foot
deep, and has a plaguy gunpowder look!"