Produced by Al Haines.
[Illustration: Mary Hamilton]
*THE TORY LOVER*
BY
*SARAH ORNE JEWETT*
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
The Riverside Press, Cambridge
1901
COPYRIGHT, 1901, BY SARAH ORNE JEWETT
AND HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
TO
T. J. E.
*CONTENTS*
CHAPTER
I. The Sea-Wolf
II. The Parting Feast
III. A Character of Honor
IV. The Flowering of whose Face
V. The Challenge
VI. The Captain speaks
VII. The Sailing of the Ranger
VIII. The Major's Hospitalities
IX. Brother and Sister
X. Against Wind and Tide
XI. That Time of Year
XII. Between Decks
XIII. The Mind of the Doctor
XIV. To add More Grief
XV. The Coast of France
XVI. It is the Soul that sees
XVII. The Remnant of Another Time
XVIII. Oh had I wist!
XIX. The best laid Plans
XX. Now are we Friends again?
XXI. The Captain gives an Order
XXII. The Great Commissioner
XXIII. The Salute to the Flag
XXIV. Whitehaven
XXV. A Man's Character
XXVI. They have made Prey of him
XXVII. A Prisoner and Captive
XXVIII. News at the Landing
XXIX. Peggy takes the Air
XXX. Madam goes to Sea
XXXI. The Mill Prison
XXXII. The Golden Dragon
XXXIII. They come to Bristol
XXXIV. Good English Hearts
XXXV. A Stranger at Home
XXXVI. My Lord Newburgh's Kindness
XXXVII. The Bottom of these Miseries
XXXVIII. Full of Straying Streets
XXXIX. Mercy and Manly Courage
XL. The Watcher's Light
XLI. An Offered Opportunity
XLII. The Passage Inn
XLIII. They follow the Dike
XLIV. The Road's End
XLV. With the Flood Tide
*LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS*
ARTIST PAGE
Mary Hamilton . . . _Marcia O. Woodbury_ . . . _Frontispiece_
The Ranger . . . _Charles H. Woodbury_
Hamilton House . . . _Charles H. Woodbury_
Along the Dike . . . _Charles H. Woodbury_
*THE TORY LOVER*
*I*
*THE SEA WOLF*
"By all you love most, war and this sweet lady."
The last day of October in 1777, Colonel Jonathan Hamilton came out of
his high house on the river bank with a handsome, impatient company of
guests, all Berwick gentlemen. They stood on the flagstones, watching a
coming boat that was just within sight under the shadow of the pines of
the farther shore, and eagerly passed from hand to hand a spyglass
covered with worn red morocco leather. The sun had just gone down; the
quick-gathering dusk of the short day was already veiling the sky before
they could see the steady lift and dip of long oars, and make sure of
the boat's company. While it was still a long distance away, the
gentlemen turned westward and went slowly down through the terraced
garden, to wait again with much formality by the gate at the garden
foot.
Beside the master of the house was Judge Chadbourne, an old man of
singular dignity and kindliness of look, and near them stood General
Goodwin, owner of the next estate, and Major Tilly Haggens of the Indian
wars, a tall, heavily made person, clumsily built, but not without a
certain elegance like an old bottle of Burgundy. There was a small
group behind these foremost men,--a red cloak here and a touch of dark
velvet on a shoulder beyond, with plenty of well-plaited ruffles to
grace the wearers. Hamilton's young associate, John Lord, merchant and
gentleman, stood alone, trim-wigged and serious, with a look of
discretion almost too great for his natural boyish grace. Quite the
most impressive figure among them was the minister, a man of high
ecclesiastical lineage, very well dressed in a three-cornered beaver
hat, a large single-breasted coat sweeping down with ample curves over a
long waistcoat with huge pockets and lappets, and a great white stock
that held his chin high in air. This was fastened behind with a silver
buckle to match the buckles on his tight knee breeches, and other
buckles large and flat on his square-toed shoes; somehow he looked as
like a serious book with clasps as a man could look, with an outward
completeness that mated with his inner equipment of fixed Arminian
opinions.
As for Colonel Hamilton, the host, a strong-looking, bright-colored man
in the middle thirties, the softness of a suit of brown, and his own
hair well dressed and powdered, did not lessen a certain hardness in his
face, a grave determination, and maturity of appearance far beyond the
due of his years. Hamilton had easily enough won the place of chief
shipping merchant and prince of money-makers in that respectable group,
and until these dark days of war almost every venture by land or sea had
added to his fortunes. The noble house that he had built was still new
enough to be the chief show and glory of a rich provincial neighborhood.
With all his power of money-making,--and there were those who counted
him a second Sir William Pepperrell,--Hamilton was no easy friend-maker
like that great citizen of the District of Maine, nor even like his own
beautiful younger sister, the house's mistress. Some strain of good
blood, which they had inherited, seemed to have been saved through
generations to nourish this one lovely existence, and make her seem like
the single flower upon their family tree. They had come from but a
meagre childhood to live here in state and luxury beside the river.
The broad green fields of Hamilton's estate climbed a long hill behind
the house, hedged in by stately rows of elms and tufted by young
orchards; at the western side a strong mountain stream came down its
deep channel over noisy falls and rapids to meet the salt tide in the
bay below. This broad sea inlet and inland harborage was too well
filled in an anxious year with freightless vessels both small and great:
heavy seagoing craft and lateen-sailed gundalows for the river traffic;
idle enough now, and careened on the mud at half tide in picturesque
confusion.
The opposite shore was high, with farmhouses above the fields. There
were many persons to be seen coming down toward the water, and when
Colonel Hamilton and his guests appeared on the garden terraces, a loud
cry went alongshore, and instantly the noise of mallets ceased in the
shipyard beyond, where some carpenters were late at work. There was an
eager, buzzing crowd growing fast about the boat landing and the wharf
and warehouses which the gentlemen at the high-urned gateway looked down
upon. The boat was coming up steadily, but in the middle distance it
seemed to lag; the long stretch of water was greater than could be
measured by the eye. Two West Indian fellows in the crowd fell to
scuffling, having trodden upon each other's rights, and the on-lookers,
quickly diverted from their first interest, cheered them on, and wedged
themselves closer together to see the fun. Old Caesar, the majestic
negro who had attended Hamilton at respectful distance, made it his
welcome duty to approach the quarrel with loud rebukes; usually the
authority of this great person in matters pertaining to the estate was
only second to his master's, but in such a moment of high festival and
gladiatorial combat all commands fell upon deaf ears. Major Tilly
Haggens burst into a hearty laugh, glad of a chance to break the
tiresome formalities of his associates, and being a great admirer of a
skillful fight. On any serious occasion the major always seemed a
little uneasy, as if restless with unspoken jokes.
In the meantime the boat had taken its shoreward curve, and was now so
near that even through the dusk the figures of the oarsmen, and of an
officer, sitting alone at the stern in full uniform, could be plainly
seen. The next moment the wrestling Tobago men sprang to their feet,
forgetting their affront, and ran to the landing-place with the rest.
The new flag of the Congress with its unfamiliar stripes was trailing at
the boat's stern; the officer bore himself with dignity, and made his
salutations with much politeness. All the gentlemen on the terrace came
down together to the water's edge, without haste, but with exact
deference and timeliness; the officer rose quickly in the boat, and
stepped ashore with ready foot and no undignified loss of balance. He
wore the pleased look of a willing guest, and was gayly dressed in a
bright new uniform of blue coat and breeches, with red lapels and a red
waistcoat trimmed with lace. There was a noisy cheering, and the
spectators fell back on either hand and made way for this very elegant
company to turn again and go their ways up the river shore.
Captain Paul Jones of the Ranger bowed as a well-practiced sovereign
might as he walked along, a little stiffly at first, being often vexed
by boat-cramp, as he now explained cheerfully to his host. There was an
eager restless look in his clear-cut sailor's face, with quick eyes that
seemed not to observe things that were near by, but to look often and
hopefully toward the horizon. He was a small man, but already bent in
the shoulders from living between decks; his sword was long for his
height and touched the ground as he walked, dragging along a gathered
handful of fallen poplar leaves with its scabbard tip.
It was growing dark as they went up the long garden; a thin white mist
was gathering on the river, and blurred the fields where there were
marshy spots or springs. The two brigs at the moorings had strung up
their dull oil lanterns to the rigging, where they twinkled like setting
stars, and made faint reflections below in the rippling current. The
huge elms that stood along the river shore were full of shadows, while
above, the large house was growing bright with candlelight, and taking
on a cheerful air of invitation. As the master and his friends went up
to the wide south door, there stepped out to meet them the lovely figure
of a girl, tall and charming, and ready with a gay welcome to chide the
captain for his delay. She spoke affectionately to each of the others,
though she avoided young Mr. Lord's beseeching eyes. The elder men had
hardly time for a second look to reassure themselves of her bright
beauty, before she had vanished along the lighted hall. By the time
their cocked hats and plainer head gear were safely deposited, old
Caesar with a great flourish of invitation had thrown open the door of
the dining parlor.
*II*
*THE PARTING FEAST*
"A little nation, but made great by liberty."
The faces gathered about the table were serious and full of character.
They wore the look of men who would lay down their lives for the young
country whose sons they were, and though provincial enough for the most
part, so looked most of the men who sat in Parliament at Westminster,
and there was no more patrician head than the old judge's to be seen
upon the English bench. They were for no self-furtherance in public
matters, but conscious in their hearts of some national ideas that a
Greek might have cherished in his clear brain, or any citizen of the
great days of Rome. They were men of a single-hearted faith in Liberty
that shone bright and unassailable; there were men as good as they in a
hundred other towns. It was a simple senate of New England, ready and
able to serve her cause in small things and great.
The next moment after the minister had said a proper grace, the old
judge had a question to ask.
"Where is Miss Mary Hamilton?" said he. "Shall we not have the pleasure
of her company?"
"My sister looks for some young friends later," explained the host, but
with a touch of coldness in his voice. "She begs us to join her then in
her drawing-room, knowing that we are now likely to have business
together and much discussion of public affairs. I bid you all welcome
to my table, gentlemen; may we be here to greet Captain Paul Jones on
his glorious return, as we speed him now on so high an errand!"
"You have made your house very pleasant to a homeless man, Colonel
Hamilton," returned the captain, with great feeling. "And Miss Hamilton
is as good a patriot as her generous brother. May Massachusetts and the
Province of Maine never lack such sons and daughters! There are many of
my men taking their farewell supper on either shore of your river this
night. I have received my dispatches, and it is settled that we sail
for France to-morrow morning at the turn of tide."
"To-morrow morning!" they exclaimed in chorus. The captain's manner gave
the best of news; there was an instant shout of approval and
congratulation. His own satisfaction at being finally ordered to sea
after many trying delays was understood by every one, since for many
months, while the Ranger was on the stocks at Portsmouth, Paul Jones had
bitterly lamented the indecisions of a young government, and regretted
the slipping away of great opportunities abroad and at home. To say
that he had made himself as vexing as a wasp were to say the truth, but
he had already proved himself a born leader with a heart on fire with
patriotism and deep desire for glory, and there were those present who
eagerly recognized his power and were ready to further his best
endeavors. Young men had flocked to his side, sailors born and bred on
the river shores, and in Portsmouth town, who could serve their country
well. Berwick was in the thick of the fight from the very beginning;
her company of soldiers had been among the first at Bunker's Hill, and
the alarm at Lexington had shaken her very hills at home. Twin sister
of Portsmouth in age, and sharer of her worldly conditions, the old ease
and wealth of the town were sadly troubled now; there was many a new
black gown in the parson's great parish, and many a mother's son lay
dead, or suffered in an English prison. Yet the sea still beckoned with
white hands, and Paul Jones might have shipped his crew on the river
many times over. The ease of teaching England to let the colonies alone
was not spoken of with such bold certainty as at first, and some late
offenses were believed to be best revenged by such a voyage as the
Ranger was about to make.
Captain Paul Jones knew his work; he was full of righteous wrath toward
England, and professed a large readiness to accept the offered
friendliness of France.
Colonel Jonathan Hamilton could entertain like a prince. The feast was
fit for the room in which it was served, and the huge cellar beneath was
well stored with casks of wine that had come from France and Spain, or
from England while her ports were still home ports for the colonies.
Being a Scotsman, the guest of honor was not unmindful of excellent
claret, and now set down his fluted silver tumbler after a first deep
draught, and paid his host a handsome compliment.
"You live like a Virginia gentleman, sir, here in your Northern home.
They little know in Great Britain what stately living is among us. The
noble Countess of Selkirk thought that I was come to live among the
savages, instead of gratifying my wishes for that calm contemplation and
poetic ease which, alas, I have ever been denied."
"They affect to wonder at the existence of American gentlemen," returned
the judge. "When my father went to Court in '22, and they hinted the
like, he reminded them that since they had sent over some of the best of
their own gentlefolk to found the colonies, it would be strange if none
but boors and clowns came back."
"In Virginia they consider that they breed the only gentlemen; that is
the great pity," said Parson Tompson. "Some of my classmates at
Cambridge arrived at college with far too proud a spirit. They were
pleased to be amused, at first, because so many of us at the North were
destined for the ministry."
"You will remember that Don Quixote speaks of the Church, the Sea, and
the Court for his Spanish gentlemen," said Major Tilly Haggens, casting
a glance across at the old judge. "We have had the two first to choose
from in New England, if we lacked the third." The world was much with
the major, and he was nothing if not eager spoken. "People forget to
look at the antecedents of our various colonists; 't is the only way to
understand them. In these Piscataqua neighborhoods we do not differ so
much from those of Virginia; 'tis not the same pious stock as made
Connecticut and the settlements of Massachusetts Bay. We are children
of the Norman blood in New England and Virginia, at any rate. 'T is the
Saxons who try to rule England now; there is the cause of all our
troubles. Norman and Saxon have never yet learned to agree."
"You give me a new thought," said the captain.
"For me," explained the major, "I am of fighting and praying Huguenot
blood, and here comes in another strain to our nation's making. I might
have been a parson myself if there had not been a stray French gallant
to my grandfather, who ran away with a saintly Huguenot maiden; his
ghost still walks by night and puts the devil into me so that I forget
my decent hymns. My family name is Huyghens; 't was a noble house of
the Low Countries. Christian Huyghens, author of the Cosmotheoros, was
my father's kinsman, and I was christened for the famous General Tilly
of stern faith, but the gay Frenchman will ever rule me. 'Tis all
settled by our antecedents," and he turned to Captain Paul Jones. "I'm
for the flower-de-luce, sir; if I were a younger man I'd sail with you
to-morrow! 'T is very hard for us aging men with boys' hearts in us to
stay decently at home. I should have been born in France!"
"France is your country's friend, sir," said Paul Jones, bowing across
the table. "Let us drink to France, gentlemen!" and the company drank
the toast. Old Caesar bowed with the rest as he stood behind his
master's chair, and smacked his lips with pathetic relish of the wine
which he had tasted only in imagination. The captain's quick eyes
caught sight of him.
"By your leave, Colonel Hamilton!" he exclaimed heartily. "This is a
toast that every American should share the pleasure of drinking. I
observe that my old friend Caesar has joined us in spirit," and he
turned with a courtly bow and gave a glass to the serving man.
"You have as much at stake as we in this great enterprise," he said
gently, in a tone that moved the hearts of all the supper company. "May
I drink with you to France, our country's ally?"
A lesser soul might have babbled thanks, but Caesar, who had been born a
Guinea prince, drank in silence, stepped back to his place behind his
master, and stood there like a king. His underlings went and came
serving the supper; he ruled them like a great commander on the field of
battle, and hardly demeaned himself to move again until the board was
cleared.
"I seldom see a black face without remembering the worst of my boyish
days when I sailed in the Two Friends, slaver," said the captain
gravely, but with easy power of continuance. "Our neighbor town of
Dumfries was in the tobacco trade, and all their cargoes were unloaded
in Carsethorn Bay, close by my father's house. I was easily enough
tempted to follow the sea; I was trading in the Betsey at seventeen, and
felt myself a man of experience. I have observed too many idle young
lads hanging about your Portsmouth wharves who ought to be put to sea
under a smart captain. They are ready to cheer or to jeer at strangers,
and take no pains to be manly. I began to follow the sea when I was but
a child, yet I was always ambitious of command, and ever thinking how I
might best study the art of navigation."
"There were few idlers along this river once," said General Goodwin
regretfully. "The times grow worse and worse."
"You referred to the slaver, Two Friends," interrupted the minister, who
had seen a shadow of disapproval on the faces of two of his parishioners
(one being Colonel Hamilton's) at the captain's tone. "May I observe
that there has seemed to be some manifestation of a kind Providence in
bringing so many heathen souls to the influence of a Christian country?"
The fierce temper of the captain flamed to his face; he looked up at old
Caesar who well remembered the passage from his native land, and saw
that black countenance set like an iron mask.
"I must beg your reverence's kind pardon if I contradict you," said Paul
Jones, with scornful bitterness.
There was a murmur of protest about the table; the captain's reply was
not counted to be in the best of taste. Society resents being disturbed
at its pleasures, and the man who had offended was now made conscious of
his rudeness. He looked up, however, and saw Miss Hamilton standing
near the open doorway that led into the hall. She was gazing at him
with no relic of that indifference which had lately distressed his
heart, and smiled at him as she colored deeply, and disappeared.
The captain took on a more spirited manner than before, and began to
speak of politics, of the late news from Long Island, where a son of old
Berwick, General John Sullivan, had taken the place of Lee, and was now
next in command to Washington himself. This night Paul Jones seemed to
be in no danger of those fierce outbursts of temper with which he was
apt to startle his more amiable and prosaic companions. There was some
discussion of immediate affairs, and one of the company, Mr. Wentworth,
fell upon the inevitable subject of the Tories; a topic sure to rouse
much bitterness of feeling. Whatever his own principles, every man
present had some tie of friendship or bond of kindred with those who
were Loyalists for conscience' sake, and could easily be made ill at
ease.
The moment seemed peculiarly unfortunate for such trespass, and when
there came an angry lull in the storm of talk, Mr. Lord somewhat
anxiously called attention to a pair of great silver candlesticks which
graced the feast, and by way of compliment begged to be told their
history. It was not unknown that they had been brought from England a
few summers before in one of Hamilton's own ships, and that he was not
without his fancy for such things as gave his house a look of rich
ancestry; a stranger might well have thought himself in a good country
house of Queen Anne's time near London. But this placid interlude did
not rouse any genuine interest, and old Judge Chadbourne broke another
awkward pause and harked back to safer ground in the conversation.
"I shall hereafter make some discrimination against men of color. I
have suffered a great trial of the spirit this day," he began seriously.
"I ask the kind sympathy of each friend present. I had promised my
friend, President Hancock, some of our Berwick elms to plant near his
house on Boston Common; he has much admired the fine natural growth of
that tree in our good town here, and the beauty it lends to our high
ridges of land. I gave directions to my man Ajax, known to some of you
as a competent but lazy soul, and as I was leaving home he ran after me,
shouting to inquire where he should find the trees. 'Oh, get them
anywhere!' said I, impatient at the detention, and full of some
difficult matters which were coming up at our term in York. And this
morning on my return from court, I missed a well-started row of young
elms, which I had selected myself and planted along the outer border of
my gardens. Ajax had taken the most accessible, and they had all gone
down river by the packet. I shall have a good laugh with Hancock by and
by. I remember that he once praised these very trees and professed to
covet them."
"'T was the evil eye," suggested Mr. Hill, laughing; but the minister
slowly shook his head, contemptuous of such superstitious.
"I saw that one of our neighbor Madam Wallingford's favorite oaks was
sadly broken by the recent gale," said Mr. Wentworth unguardedly, and
this was sufficient to make a new name fairly leap into the
conversation,--that of Mr. Roger Wallingford, the son of a widowed lady
of great fortune, whose house stood not far distant, on the other side
of the river in Somersworth.
General Goodwin at once dropped his voice regretfully. "I am afraid that
we can have no doubt now of the young man's sympathy with our
oppressors," said he. "I hear that he has been seen within a week
coming out of the Earl of Halifax tavern in Portsmouth, late at night,
as if from a secret conference. A friend of mine heard him say openly on
the Parade that Mr. Benjamin Thompson of old Rumford had been unfairly
driven to seek Royalist protection, and to flee his country, leaving
wife and infant child behind him; that 't was all from the base
suspicions and hounding of his neighbors, whose worst taunt had ever
been that he loved and sought the company of gentlemen. 'I pity him
from my heart,' says Wallingford in a loud voice; as if pity could ever
belong to so vile a traitor!"
"But I fear that this was true," said Judge Chadbourne, the soundest of
patriots, gravely interrupting. "They drove young Thompson away in hot
haste when his country was in sorest need of all such naturally
chivalrous and able men. He meant no disloyalty until his crisis came,
and proved his rash young spirit too weak to meet it. He will be a
great man some day, if I read men aright; we shall be proud of him in
spite of everything. He had his foolish follies, and the wrong road
never leads to the right place, but the taunts of the narrow-minded
would have made many an older man fling himself out of reach. 'T is a
sad mischance of war. Young Wallingford is a proud fellow, and has his
follies too: his kindred in Boston thought themselves bound to the King;
they are his elders and have been his guardians, and youth may forbid
his seeing the fallacy of their arguments. Our country is above our
King in such a time as this, yet I myself was of those who could not
lightly throw off the allegiance of a lifetime."
"I have always said that we must have patience with such lads and not
try to drive them," said Major Haggens, the least patient of all the
gentlemen. Captain Paul Jones drummed on the table with one hand and
rattled the links of his sword hilt with the other. The minister looked
dark and unconvinced, but the old judge stood first among his
parishioners; he did not answer, but threw an imploring glance toward
Hamilton at the head of the table.
"We are beginning to lose the very last of our patience now with those
who cry that our country is too young and poor to go alone, and urge
that we should bear our wrongs and be tied to the skirts of England for
fifty years more. What about our poor sailors dying like sheep in the
English jails?" said Hamilton harshly. "He that is not for us is
against us, and so the people feel."
"The true patriot is the man who risks all for love of country," said
the minister, following fast behind.
"They have little to risk, some of the loudest of them," insisted Major
Haggens scornfully. "They would not brook the thought of conciliation,
but fire and sword and other men's money are their only sinews of war.
I mean that some of those dare-devils in Boston have often made matters
worse than there was any need," he added, in a calmer tone.
Paul Jones cast a look of contempt upon such a complaining old soldier.
"You must remember that many discomforts accompany a great struggle," he
answered. "The lower classes, as some are pleased to call certain
citizens of our Republic, must serve Liberty in their own fashion. They
are used to homespun shirt-sleeves and not to lace ruffles, but they
make good fighters, and their hearts are true. Sometimes their instinct
gives them to see farther ahead than we can. I fear indeed that there
is trouble brewing for some of your valued neighbors who are not willing
to be outspoken. A certain young gentleman has of late shown some
humble desires to put himself into an honorable position for safety's
sake."
"You mistake us, sir," said the old judge, hastening to speak. "But we
are not served in our struggle by such lawlessness of behavior; we are
only hindered by it. General George Washington is our proper model, and
not those men whose manners and language are not worthy of
civilization."
The guest of the evening looked frankly bored, and Major Tilly Haggens
came to the rescue. The captain's dark hint had set them all staring at
one another.
"Some of our leaders in this struggle make me think of an old Scottish
story I got from McIntire in York," said he. "There was an old farmer
went to the elders to get his tokens for the Sacrament, and they
propounded him his questions. 'What's your view of Adam?' says they:
'what kind of a mon?' 'Well,' says the farmer, 'I think Adam was like
Jack Simpson the horse trader. Varra few got anything by him, an' a
mony lost.'"
The captain laughed gayly as if with a sense of proprietorship in the
joke. "T is old Scotland all over," he acknowledged, and then his face
grew stern again.
"Your loud talkers are the gadflies that hurry the slowest oxen," he
warned the little audience. "And we have to remember that if those who
would rob America of her liberties should still prevail, we all sit here
with halters round our necks!" Which caused the spirits of the company
to sink so low that again the cheerful major tried to succor it.
"Shall we drink to The Ladies?" he suggested, with fine though
unexpected courtesy; and they drank as if it were the first toast of the
evening.
"We are in the middle of a great war now, and must do the best we can,"
said Hamilton, as if he wished to make peace about his table. "Last
summer when things were at the darkest, Sam Adams came riding down to
Exeter to plead with Mr. Gilman for money and troops on the part of
their Rockingham towns. The Treasurer was away, and his wife saw
Adams's great anxiety and the tears rolling down his cheeks, and heard
him groan aloud as he paced to and fro in the room. '_O my God!_' says
he, '_and must we give it all up!_' When the good lady told me there
were tears in her own eyes, and I vow that I was fired as I had never
been before,--I have loved the man ever since; I called him a stirrer up
of frenzies once, but it fell upon my heart that, after all, it is men
like Sam Adams who hold us to our duty."
"I cannot envy Sam Curwen his travels in rural England, or Gray that he
moves in the best London society, but Mr. Hancock writes me 'tis thought
all our best men have left us," said Judge Chadbourne.
"'T is a very genteel company now at Bristol," said John Lord.
"I hear that the East India Company is in terrible difficulties, and her
warehouses in London are crammed to bursting with the tea that we have
refused to drink. If they only had sense enough to lift the tax and give
us liberty for our own trade, we should soon drink all their troubles
dry," said Colonel Hamilton.
"'T is not because we hate England, but because we love her that we are
hurt so deep," said Mr. Hill. "When a man's mother is jealous because he
prospers, and turns against him, it is worst of all."
"Send your young men to sea!" cried Captain Paul Jones, who had no
patience with the resettling of questions already left far behind.
"Send me thoroughbred lads like your dainty young Wallingford! You must
all understand how little can be done with this poor basket of a Ranger
against a well-furnished British man-of-war. My reverend friend here
has his heart in the matter. I myself have flung away friends and
fortune for my adopted country, and she has been but a stingy young
stepmother to me. I go to fight her cause on the shores that gave me
birth; I trample some dear recollections under foot, and she haggles
with me all summer over a paltry vessel none too smart for a fisherman,
and sends me to sea in her with my gallant crew. You all know that the
Ranger is crank built, and her timbers not first class,--her thin sails
are but coarse hessings, with neither a spare sheet, nor stuff to make
it, and there 's not even room aboard for all her guns. I sent four
six-pounders ashore out of her this very day so that we can train the
rest. 'T is some of your pretty Tories that have picked our knots as
fast as we tied them, and some jealous hand chose poor planking for our
decks and rotten red-oak knees for the frame. But, thank God, she 's a
vessel at last! I would sail for France in a gundalow, so help me
Heaven! and once in France I shall have a proper man-of-war."
There was a chorus of approval and applause; the listeners were deeply
touched and roused; they all wished to hear something of the captain's
plans, but he returned to the silver tumbler of claret, and sat for a
moment as if considering; his head was held high, and his eyes flashed
with excitement as he looked up at the high cornice of the room. He had
borne the name of the Sea Wolf; in that moment of excitement he looked
ready to spring upon any foe, but to the disappointment of every one he
said no more.
"The country is drained now of ready money," said young Lord
despondently; "this war goes on, as it must go on, at great sacrifice.
The reserves must come out,--those who make excuse and the only sons,
and even men like me, turned off at first for lack of health. We meet
the strain sadly in this little town; we have done the best we could on
the river, sir, in fitting out your frigate, but you must reflect upon
our situation."
The captain could not resist a comprehensive glance at the richly
furnished table and stately dining-room of his host, and there was not a
man who saw it who did not flush with resentment.
"We are poorly off for stores," he said bitterly, "and nothing takes
down the courage of a seaman like poor fare. I found to-day that we had
only thirty gallons of spirits for the whole crew." At which melancholy
information Major Haggens's kind heart could not forbear a groan.
General Goodwin waved his hand and took his turn to speak with much
dignity.
"This is the first time that we have all been guests at this hospitable
board in many long weeks," he announced gravely. "There is no doubt
about the propriety of republican simplicity, or our readiness to submit
to it, though our ancient Berwick traditions have taught us otherwise.
But I see reason to agree with our friend and former townsman, Judge
Sullivan, who lately answered John Adams for his upbraiding of President
Hancock's generous way of doing things. He insists that such open
hospitality is to be praised when consistent with the means of the host,
and that when the people are anxious and depressed it is important to
the public cheerfulness."
"'T is true. James Sullivan is right," said Major Haggens; "we are not
at Poverty's back door either. You will still find a glass of decent
wine in every gentleman's house in old Barvick and a mug of honest cider
by every farmer's fireside. We may lack foreign luxuries, but we can
well sustain ourselves. This summer has found many women active in the
fields, where our men have dropped the hoe to take their old swords
again that were busy in the earlier ways."
"We have quelled the savage, but the wars of civilization are not less
to be dreaded," said the good minister.
"War is but war," said Colonel Hamilton. "Let us drink to Peace,
gentlemen!" and they all drank heartily; but Paul Jones looked startled;
as if the war might really end without having served his own ambitions.
"Nature has made a hero of him," said the judge to his neighbor, as they
saw and read the emotion of the captain's look. "Circumstances have now
given him the command of men and a great opportunity. We shall see the
result."
"Yet 't is a contemptible force of ship and men, to think of striking
terror along the strong coasts of England," observed Mr. Hill to the
parson, who answered him with sympathy; and the talk broke up and was
only between man and man, while the chief thought of every one was upon
the venison,--a fine saddle that had come down the week before from the
north country about the Saco intervales.
*III*
*A CHARACTER OF HONOR*
"Sad was I, even to pain deprest,
Importunate and heavy load!
The comforter hath found me here
Upon this lonely road!"
"Your friend General Sullivan has had his defamers but he goes to prove
himself one of our ablest men," said Paul Jones to Hamilton. "I grieve
to see that his old father, that lofty spirit and fine wit, is not with
us to-night. Sullivan is a soldier born."
"There is something in descent," said Hamilton eagerly. "They come of a
line of fighting men famous in the Irish struggles. John Sullivan's
grandfather was with Patrick Sarsfield, the great Earl of Lucan, at
Limerick, and the master himself, if all tales are true, was much
involved in the early plots of the old Pretender. No, sir, he was not
out in the '15; he was a student at that time in France, but I dare say
ready to lend himself to anything that brought revenge upon England."
"Commend me to your ancient sage the master," said the captain. "I wish
we might have had him here to-night. When we last dined here together
he talked not only of our unfortunate King James, but of the great
Prince of Conti and Louis Quatorze as if he had seen them yesterday. He
was close to many great events in France."
"You speak of our old Master Sullivan," said Major Haggens eagerly,
edging his chair a little nearer. "Yes, he knew all those great
Frenchmen as he knows his Virgil and Tally; we are all his pupils here,
old men and young; he is master of a little school on Pine Hill; there
is no better scholar and gentleman in New England."
"Or Old England either," added Judge Chadbourne.
"They say that he had four countesses to his grandmothers, and that his
grandfathers were lords of Beare and Bantry, and princes of Ireland,"
said the major. "His father was banished to France by the Stuarts, and
died from a duel there, and the master was brought up in one of their
great colleges in Paris where his house held a scholarship. He was
reared among the best Frenchmen of his time. As for his coming here,
there are many old stories; some say 't was being found in some
treasonable plot, and some that 't was for the sake of a lady whom his
mother would not let him stoop to marry. He vowed that she should never
see his face again; all his fortunes depended on his mother, so he fled
the country.
"With the lady?" asked the captain, with interest, and pushing along the
decanter of Madeira.
"No," said the major, stopping to fill his own glass as if it were a
pledge of remembrance. "No, he came to old York a bachelor, to the farm
of the McIntires, Royalist exiles in the old Cromwell times, and worked
there with his hands until some one asked him if he could write a
letter, and he wrote it in seven languages. Then the minister, old Mr.
Moody, planted him in our grammar school. There had been great lack of
classical teaching in all this region for those who would be college
bred, and since that early year he has kept his school for lads and now
and then for a bright girl or two like Miss Mary Hamilton, and her
mother before her."
"One such man who knows the world and holds that rarest jewel, the
teacher's gift, can uplift a whole community," said the captain, with
enthusiasm. "I see now the cause of such difference between your own
and other early planted towns. Master Sullivan has proved himself a
nobler prince and leader than any of his ancestry. But what of the
lady? I heard many tales of him before I possessed the pleasure of his
acquaintance, and so heard them with indifference."
"He had to wife a pretty child of the ship's company, an orphan whom he
befriended, and later married. She was sprightly and of great beauty in
her youth, and was dowered with all the energy in practical things that
he had been denied," said the judge. "She came of plain peasant stock,
but the poor soul has a noble heart. She flouts his idleness at one
moment, and bewails their poverty, and then falls on her knees to
worship him the next, and is as proud as if she had married the lord of
the manor at home. The master lacked any true companionship until he
bred it for himself. It has been a solitary life and hermitage for
either an Irish adventurer or a French scholar and courtier."
"The master can rarely be tempted now from the little south window where
he sits with his few books," said Hamilton. "I lived neighbor to him
all my young days. Not long ago he went to visit his son James, and
walked out with him to see the village at the falls of the Saco. There
was an old woman lately come over from Ireland with her grandchildren;
they said she remembered things in Charles the Second's time, and was
above a hundred years of age. James Sullivan, the judge, thinking to
amuse his father, stopped before the house, and out came the old
creature, and fell upon her knees. 'My God! 't is the young Prince of
Ardea!' says she. 'Oh, I mind me well of your lady mother, sir; 't was
in Derry I was born, but I lived a year in Ardea, and yourself was a
pretty boy busy with your courting!' The old man burst into tears.
'Let us go, James,' says he, 'or this will break my heart!' but he
stopped and said a few words to her in a whisper, and gave the old body
his blessing and all that was in his poor purse. He would listen to her
no more. 'We need not speak of youth,' he told her; 'we remember it
only too well!' A man told me this who stood by and heard the whole."
"'Twas most affecting; it spurs the imagination," said the captain. "If
I had but an hour to spare I should ride to see him once more, even by
night. You will carry the master my best respects, some of you.
"One last glass, gentlemen, to our noble cause! We may never sit in
pleasant company again," he added, and they all rose in their places and
stood about the table.
"_Haud heigh_, my old auntie used to say to me at home. Aim high's the
English of it. She was of the bold clan of the MacDuffs, and 't is my
own motto in these anxious days. Good-by, gentlemen all!" said the
little captain. "I ask for your kind wishes and your prayers."
They all looked at Hamilton, and then at one another, but nobody took it
upon himself to speak, so they shook hands warmly and drank their last
toast in silence and with deep feeling. It was time to join the ladies;
already there was a sound of music across the hall in a great room which
had been cleared for the dancing.
*IV*
*THE FLOWERING OF WHOSE FACE*
"Dear love, for nothing less than thee
Would I have broke this happy dream,
* * * * *
Therefore thou wak'dst me wisely; yet
My dream thou breakest not, but continuest it."
While the guests went in to supper, Mary Hamilton, safe in the shelter
of friendly shadows, went hurrying along the upper hall of the house to
her own chamber. The coming moon was already brightening the eastern
sky, so that when she opened the door the large room with its white
hangings was all dimly lighted from without, and she could see the
figure of a girl standing at one of the windows.
"Oh, you are here!" she cried, with sharp anxiety, and then they leaned
out together, with their arms about each other's shoulders, looking down
at the dark cove and at the height beyond where the tops of tall pines
were silvered like a cloud. They could hear the men's voices, as if
they were all talking together, in the room below.
Mary looked at her friend's face in the dim light. There were some who
counted Miss Elizabeth Wyat as great a beauty as Miss Hamilton.
"Oh, Betsey dear, I can hardly bear to ask, but tell me quick now what
you have heard! I must go down to Peggy; she has attempted everything
for this last feast, and I promised her to trim the game pie for its
proud appearing, and the great plum cake. One of her maids is ill, and
she is in such a flurry!"
"'T was our own maids talking," answered Betsey Wyat slowly. "They were
on the bleaching-green with their linen this morning, the sun was so
hot, and I was near by among the barberry bushes in the garden.
Thankful Grant was sobbing, in great distress. She said that her young
man had put himself in danger; he was under a vow to come out with the
mob from Dover any night now that the signal called them, to attack
Madam Wallingford's house and make Mr. Roger declare his principles.
They were sure he was a Tory fast enough, and they meant to knock the
old nest to pieces; they are bidden to be ready with their tools; their
axes, she said, and something for a torch. Thankful begged him to feign
illness, but he said he did not dare, and would go with the rest at any
rate. She said she fronted him with the remembrance how madam had paid
his wages all last summer when he was laid by, though the hurt he got
was not done in her service, but in breaking his own colt on a Sunday.
Yet nothing changed him; he said he was all for Liberty, and would not
play the sneak now."
"Oh, how cruel! when nobody has been so kind and generous as Madam
Wallingford, so full of kind thought for the poor!" exclaimed Mary.
"And Roger"--
"He would like it better if you thought first of him, not of his
mother," said Betsey Wyat reproachfully.
"What can be done? It may be this very night," said Mary, in a voice of
despair.
"The only thing left is to declare his principles. Things have gone so
far now, they will never give him any peace. Many have come to the
belief that he is in close league with our enemies."
"That he has never been!" said Mary hotly.
"He must prove it to the doubting Patriots, then; so my father says."
"But not to a mob of rascals, who will be disappointed if they cannot
vex their betters, and ruin an innocent woman's home, and spoil her
peace only to show their power. Oh, Betsey, what in the world shall we
do? There is no place left for those who will take neither side. Oh,
help me to think what we shall do; the mob may be there this very night!
There was a strange crowd about the Landing just now, when the captain
came. I dare not send any one across the river with such a message but
old Caesar or Peggy, and they are not to be spared from the house. I
trust none of the younger people, black or white, when it comes to
this."
"But he was safe in Portsmouth to-day; they will watch for his being at
home; it will not be to-night, then," said Betsey Wyat hopefully. "I
think that he should have spoken long ago, if only to protect his
mother."
"Get ready now, dear Betty, and make yourself very fine," said Mary at
last. "The people will all be coming for the dance long before supper
is done. My brother was angry when I told him I should not sit at the
table, but I could not. There is nobody to make it gay afterward with
our beaux all gone to the army; but Captain Paul Jones begged hard for
some dancing, and all the girls are coming,--the Hills and Rights, and
the Lords from Somersworth. I must manage to tell my brother of this
danger, but to openly protect Madam Wallingford would be openly taking
the wrong side, and who will follow him in such a step?"
"I could not pass the great window on the stairs without looking out in
fear that Madam's house would be all ablaze," whispered Betsey Wyat,
shuddering. "There have been such dreadful things done against the
Tories in Salem and Boston!"
"My heart is stone cold with fear," said Mary Hamilton; "yet if it only
does not come to-night, there may be something done."
There was a silence between the friends; they clung to each other; it
was not the first time that youth and beauty knew the harsh blows of
war. The loud noise of the river falls came beating into the room,
echoing back from the high pines across the water.
"We must make us fine, dear, and get ready for the dancing; I have no
heart for it now, I am so frightened," said Mary sadly. "But get you
ready; we must do the best we can."
"You are the only one who can do anything," said little Betsey Wyat,
holding her back a moment from the door. They were both silent again as
a great peal of laughter sounded from below. Just then the moon came
up, clear of the eastern hill, and flooded all the room.
*V*
*THE CHALLENGE*
"Thou source of all my bliss and all my woe."
An hour later there was a soft night wind blowing through the garden
trees, flavored with the salt scent of the tide and the fragrance of the
upland pastures and pine woods. Mary Hamilton came alone to a great
arched window of the drawing-room. The lights were bright, the house
looked eager for its gayeties, and there was a steady sound of voices at
the supper, but she put them all behind her with impatience. She stood
hesitating for a moment, and then sat down on the broad window seat to
breathe the pleasant air. Betsey Wyat in the north parlor was softly
touching the notes of some old country song on the spinet.
The young mistress of the house leaned her head wearily on her hand as
she looked down the garden terraces to the river. She wished the long
evening were at an end, but she must somehow manage to go through its
perils and further all the difficult gayeties of the hour. She looked
back once into the handsome empty room, and turned again toward the
quiet garden. Below, on the second terrace, it was dark with shadows;
there were some huge plants of box that stood solid and black, while the
rosebushes and young peach-trees were but a gray mist of twigs. At the
end of the terrace were some thick lilacs with a few leaves still
clinging in the mild weather to shelter a man who stood there, watching
Mary Hamilton as she watched the shadows and the brightening river.