TORY TROOPERS, A DARK ROAD AND A FRAY.
"By the whiskers of the Grand Turk, I have got the four points on you,
bully Buff! High, low, jack and the game!" exclaimed Peppercorn.
"You have luck enough to worry out the nine lives of a cat. That's an
end to Backbiter, the best horse 'twixt Pedee and the Savannah. So,
blast me, if I play any more with you! There, send the cards to hell!"
roared out Hugh Habershaw, rising and throwing the pack into the fire.
It was just at the closing in of night, when a party of
ruffianly-looking men were assembled beneath a spreading chestnut, that
threw forth its aged arms over a small gravelly hillock, in the depths
of the forest that skirted the northern bank of the Pacolet, within a
short distance of Grindall's ford. The spot had all the qualities of a
secret fastness. It was guarded on one side by the small river, and on
the other by a complicated screen of underwood, consisting principally
of those luxuriantly plaited vines which give so distinct a character to
the southern woodland. The shrubbery, immediately along the bank of the
river, was sufficiently open to enable a horseman to ride through it
down to the road which, at about two hundred paces off, led into the
ford.
The group who now occupied this spot consisted of some ten or twelve men
under the command of Hugh Habershaw. Their appearance was half rustic
and half military; some efforts at soldierly costume were visible in the
decoration of an occasional buck-tail set in the caps of several of the
party, and, here and there, a piece of yellow cloth forming a band for
the hat. Some wore long and ungainly deer-skin pantaloons and moccasins
of the same material; and two or three were indued with coats of coarse
homespun, awkwardly garnished with the trimmings of a British uniform.
All were armed, but in the same irregular fashion. There were rifles to
be seen stacked against the trunk of the tree; most of the men wore
swords, which were of different lengths and sizes; and some of the gang
had a horseman's pistol bestowed conspicuously about their persons.
Their horses were attached to the drooping ends of the boughs of the
several trees that hemmed in the circle, and were ready for service at
the first call. A small fire of brushwood had been kindled near the foot
of the chestnut, and its blaze was sufficiently strong to throw a bright
glare over the motley and ill-looking crew who were assembled near it.
They might well have been taken for a bivouac of banditti of the most
undisciplined and savage class. A small party were broiling venison at
the fire: the greater number, however, were stretched out upon the
ground in idleness, waiting for some expected summons to action. The two
I have first noticed, were seated on the butt-end of a fallen trunk,
immediately within the light of the fire, and were engaged with a pack
of dirty cards, at the then popular game of "all fours."
These two personages were altogether different in exterior from each
other. The first of them, known only by the sobriquet of Peppercorn, was
a tall, well-proportioned and active man, neatly dressed in the uniform
of a British dragoon. His countenance indicated more intelligence than
belonged to his companions, and his manners had the flexible, bold, and
careless port that generally distinguishes a man who has served much in
the army, and become familiar with the varieties of character afforded
by such a career. The second was Hugh Habershaw, the captain of the
gang. He was a bluff, red-visaged, corpulent man, with a face of gross,
unmitigated sensuality. A pale blood-shot eye, which was expressionless,
except in a sinister glance, occasioned by a partial squint, a small
upturned nose, a mouth with thin and compressed lips inclining downwards
at the corners, a double chin, bristling with a wiry and almost white
beard, a low forehead, a bald crown, and meagre, reddish whiskers, were
the ill-favored traits of his physiognomy. The figure of this person was
as uncouth as his countenance. He was rather below the middle height,
and appeared still shorter by the stoop of his massive round shoulders,
by the ample bulk of his chest, and by the rotundity of his
corporation. In consideration of his rank, as the leader of this
vagabond squadron, he aimed at more military ornament in his dress than
his comrades. A greasy cocked hat, decorated after the fashion described
by Grumio, "with the humor of forty fancies pricked in it for a
feather," was perched somewhat superciliously upon his poll, and his
body was invested in an old and much abused cloth coat of London brown,
as it was then called, to the ample shoulders of which had been attached
two long, narrow, and threadbare epaulets of tarnished silver lace. A
broad buckskin belt was girded, by the help of a large brass buckle,
around his middle, on the outside of his coat, and it served as well to
suspend a rusty sabre, as to furnish support to a hunting knife, which
was thrust into it in front. His nether person was rendered conspicuous
by a pair of dingy small-clothes, and long black boots. Close at the
feet of this redoubtable commander lay a fat, surly bull-dog, whose
snarlish temper seemed to have been fostered and promoted by the
peremptory perverseness with which his master claimed for him all the
privileges and indulgencies of a pampered favorite.
Such were the unattractive exterior and circumstances of the man who
assumed control over the band of ruffians now assembled.
"I wish you and the cards had been broiled on the devil's gridiron
before I ever saw you!" continued Habershaw, after he had consigned the
pack to the flames. "That such a noble beast as Backbiter should be
whipped out of my hand by the turn of a rascally card! Hark'ee, you imp
of Satan, you have the knack of winning! your luck, or something
else--you understand me--something else, would win the shirt off my back
if I was such a fool as to play longer with you. I suspect you are a
light-fingered Jack--a light-fingered Jack--d'ye hear that, Master
Peppercorn?"
"How now, Bully!" cried Peppercorn; "are you turning boy in your old
days, that you must fall to whining because you have lost a turn at
play? Is every man a rogue since you have set up the trade? For shame!
If I were as hot a fool as you, I would give you steel in your guts. But
come, noble Captain, there's my hand. This is no time for us to be
catching quarrels; we have other business cut out. As to Backbiter, the
rat-tailed and spavined bone-setter, curse me if I would have him as a
gift: a noble beast! ha, ha, ha! Take him back, man, take him back! he
wasn't worth the cards that won him."
"Silence, you tailor's bastard! Would you breed a mutiny in the camp?
Look around you: do you expect me to preserve discipline amongst these
wild wood-scourers, with your loud haw-haws to my very teeth? You make
too free, Peppercorn; you make too free! It wouldn't take much to make
me strike; damn me, there's fighting blood in me, and you know it. When
I am at the head of my men, you must know your distance, sir. Suffice
it, I don't approve of this familiarity to the commander of a squad. But
it is no matter: I let it pass this time. And, hark in your ear, as you
underrate Backbiter, you are a fool, Peppercorn, and know no more of the
points of a good horse than you do of the ten commandments. Why, blast
you, just to punish you, I'll hold you to the word of a gentleman, and
take him back. Now there's an end of it, and let's have no more
talking."
"Right, noble Captain!" ejaculated Peppercorn, with a free and
swaggering laugh, "right! I will uphold the discipline of the valiant
Hugh Habershaw of the Tiger against all the babblers the world over. By
the God of war, I marvel that Cruger hasn't forced upon you one of his
commissions, before this; the army would be proud of such a master of
tactics."
"The time will come, Peppercorn; the time will come, and then I'll teach
them the elements of military construction. Mark that word, Peppercorn,
there's meaning in it."
"Huzza for Captain Tiger of Habershaw--Habershaw of Tiger, I mean!"
cried Peppercorn. "Here's Tiger Habershaw, my boys! Drink to that." And
saying these words, the dragoon snatched up a leathern canteen from the
ground, and, pouring out some spirits into the cup, drank them off.
The rest of the crew sprang from the grass, and followed the example set
them by their comrade, roaring out the pledge until the woods rang with
their vociferation.
"Peace! you rapscallions!" screamed the captain. "Have you so little
notion where you are, that you bellow like bulls? Is this your
discipline, when you should be as silent as cats in a kitchen,
hellhound! And you, you coarse-throated devil, Beauty," he said as he
kicked his dog, that had contributed to the chorus with a loud
sympathetic howl, "you must be breaking the laws of service guard with
your infernal roar, like the other fools of the pack. Be still, puppy!"
The clamor upon this rebuke ceased, and the bull-dog crouched again at
his master's feet.
"Isn't it time that we were at the ford? Oughtn't our friends to be near
at hand?" inquired Peppercorn.
"Black Jack will give us notice," replied Habershaw. "Depend upon him. I
have thought of everything like a man that knows his business. I have
sent that rascal up the road, with orders to feel the enemy; and I'll
undertake he'll clink it back when he once lays eyes on them, as fast as
four legs will carry him. But it is always well to be beforehand,
Peppercorn. Learn that from me: I never in my campaigns knowed any harm
done by being too early. So, Master Orderly, call the roll."
"Ready, sir; always ready when you command," answered Peppercorn. "Shall
I call the ragamuffins by their nicknames, or will you have them handled
like christians."
"On secret service," said Habershaw, "it is always best to use them to
their nicknames."
"As when they go horse-stealing, or house-burning, or throat-cutting,"
interrupted Peppercorn.
"Order, sir, no indecencies! do you hear? Go on with your roll, if you
have got it by heart. Be musical, dog!"
"Faith will I, most consummate captain! It is just to my hand: I'll sing
you like a bagpipe. I have learnt the rollcall handsomely, and can go
through it as if it were a song."
"Begin then: the time is coming when we must move. I think I hear Black
Jack's horse breaking through the bushes now."
"Attention, you devil's babies, the whole of you!" shouted Peppercorn.
"Horse and gun, every mother's imp of you!"
In a moment the idlers sprang to their weapons and mounted their horses.
"Answer to your names," said the orderly; "and see that you do it
discreetly. Pimple!"
"Here," answered one of the disorderly crew, with a laugh.
"Silence in the ranks!" cried Habershaw, "or, by the blood of your
bodies, I'll make my whinger acquainted with your hearts!"
"Long Shanks."
"Here! if you mean me," said another.
"Good! Black Jack."
"On patrole," said the captain.
"Red Mug."
"At the book," answered the man in the ranks; and here rose another
laugh.
"Red Mug! do you mind me?" said Habershaw, in a threatening tone, as his
eye squinted fiercely towards the person addressed.
"Platter Breech."
"I'll stand out against the nickname," said the person intended to be
designated, whilst the whole squad began to give symptoms of a mutiny of
merriment. "I'll be d----d if I will have it, and that's as good as if I
swore to it. I am not going to be cajoled at by the whole company."
"Silence! Blood and butter, you villains!" roared the captain. "Don't
you see that you're in line? How often have I told you that it's against
discipline to chirp above a whisper when you are drawn out? Take care
that I hav'n't to remind you of that again! Andy Clopper, you will keep
the denomination I have set upon you. Platter Breech is a good
soldier-like name, and you shall die in it, if I bid you. Go on,
Orderly--proceed!"
"Marrow Bone."
"Here!"
"Fire Nose."
"Fire Nose yourself, Mister Disorderly!" replied another refractory
member, sullenly from the ranks.
"Well, let him pass. That's a cross-grained devil," said the captain,
aside to Peppercorn. "I'll bring that chap into order yet, the d----d
mutineering back hanger! Pass him."
"Screech Owl."
"Here!"
"That's a decent, good-natured Screech Owl," said Peppercorn. "Clapper
Claw! Bow Legs!"
"Both here."
"They are all here, most comfortable Captain, all good fellows and true,
and as ready to follow you into the belly of an earthquake as go to
supper, it is all the same to them."
"Let them follow where I lead, Peppercorn; that is all I ask, said
Habershaw significantly.
"You have forgot one name on your roll, Mister Orderly," said he who had
been written down by the name of Fire Nose.
"Whose was that?"
"You forgot Captain Moonface Bragger--captain of the squad."
"Gideon Blake!" shouted Habershaw, with a voice choked by anger, until
it resembled the growl of a mastiff, whilst, at the same time, he drew
his sword half out of the scabbard. "Howsever, it is very well," he
said, restraining his wrath and permitting the blade to drop back into
its sheath. "Another time, sir. I have marked you, you limb of a
traitor. May all the devils ride over me if I don't drive a bullet
through your brain if you ever unfringe my discipline again! Yes, you
foul-mouthed half-whig, I have had my suspicions of you before to-day.
So look to yourself. A fine state of things when skunks like you can be
setting up a mutiny in the service! Take care of yourself, sir, you know
me. Now, my lads, to business. Remember the orders I issued at the
Dogwood Spring, this morning. This Whig officer must be taken dead or
alive, and don't be chicken-hearted about it. Give him the lead--give
him the lead! As to the lusty fellow that rides with him--big Horse
Shoe--have a care of him; that's a dog that bites without barking. But
be on the watch that they don't escape you again. Since we missed them
at the spring they have cost us a hard ride to head them here, so let
them pay for it. See that they are well into the ford before you show
yourselves. Wait for orders from me, and if I fall by the fortune of
war, take your orders from Peppercorn. If by chance we should miss them
at the river, push for Christie's; Wat has taken care that they shall
make for that, to-night. If any of you, by mistake, you understand me,
take them prisoners, bring them back to this spot. Now you have heard my
orders, that's enough. Keep silent and ready. Mind your discipline.
Black Jack is long coming, Orderly; these fellows must travel slow."
"I hear him now," replied Peppercorn.
In the next moment the scout referred to galloped into the circle. His
report was hastily made. It announced that the travellers were moving
leisurely towards the ford, and that not many minutes could elapse
before their arrival. Upon this intelligence Habershaw immediately
marched his troop to the road and posted them in the cover of the
underwood that skirted the river, at the crossing-place. Here they
remained like wild beasts aware of the approach of their prey, and
waiting the moment to spring upon them when it might be done with the
least chance of successful resistance.
Meantime Butler and Robinson advanced at a wearied pace. The twilight
had so far faded as to be only discernible on the western sky. The stars
were twinkling through the leaves of the forest, and the light of the
fire-fly spangled the wilderness. The road might be descried, in the
most open parts of the wood, for some fifty paces ahead; but where the
shrubbery was more dense, it was lost in utter darkness. Our travellers,
like most wayfarers towards the end of the day, rode silently along,
seldom exchanging a word, and anxiously computing the distance which
they had yet to traverse before they reached their appointed place of
repose. A sense of danger, and the necessity for vigilance, on the
present occasion, made them the more silent.
"I thought I heard a wild sort of yell just now--people laughing a great
way off," said Robinson, "but there's such a hooting of owls and piping
of frogs that I mought have been mistaken. Halt, Major. Let me
listen--there it is again."
"It is the crying of a panther, sergeant; more than a mile from us, by
my ear."
"It is mightily like the scream of drunken men," replied the sergeant;
"and there, too! I thought I heard the clatter of a hoof."
The travellers again reined up and listened.
"It is more like a deer stalking through the bushes, Galbraith."
"No," exclaimed the sergeant, "that's the gallop of a horse making down
the road ahead of us, as sure as you are alive; I heard the shoe strike
a stone. You must have hearn it too."
"I wouldn't be sure," answered Butler.
"Look to your pistols, Major, and prime afresh."
"We seem to have ridden a great way," said Butler, as he concluded the
inspection of his pistols and now held one of them ready in his hand.
"Can we have lost ourselves? Should we not have reached the Pacolet
before this?"
"I have seen no road that could take us astray," replied Robinson, "and,
by what we were told just before sundown, I should guess that we
couldn't be far off the ford. We hav'n't then quite three miles to
Christie's. Well, courage, major! supper and bed were never spoiled by
the trouble of getting to them."
"Wat Adair, I think, directed us to Christie's?" said Butler.
"He did; and I had a mind to propose to you, since we caught him in a
trick this morning, to make for some other house, if such a thing was
possible, or else to spend the night in the woods."
"Perhaps it would be wise, sergeant; and if you think so still, I will
be ruled by you."
"If we once got by the river-side where our horses mought have water, I
almost think I should advise a halt there. Although I have made one
observation, Major Butler--that running water is lean fare for a hungry
man. Howsever, it won't hurt us, and if you say the word we will stop
there."
"Then, sergeant, I do say the word."
"Isn't that the glimmering of a light yonder in the bushes?" inquired
Horse Shoe, as he turned his gaze in the direction of the bivouac, "or
is it these here lightning bugs that keep so busy shooting about?"
"I thought I saw the light you speak of, Galbraith; but it has
disappeared."
"It is there again, major; and I hear the rushing of the river--we are
near the ford. Perhaps this light comes from some cabin on the bank."
"God send that it should turn out so, Galbraith! for I am very weary."
"There is some devilment going on in these woods, major. I saw a figure
pass in front of the light through the bushes. I would be willing to
swear it was a man on horseback. Perhaps we have, by chance, fallen on
some Tory muster; or, what's not so likely, they may be friends. I think
I will ride forward and challenge."
"Better pass unobserved, if you can, sergeant," interrupted Butler. "It
will not do for us to run the risk of being separated. Here we are at
the river; let us cross, and ride some distance; then, if any one follow
us, we shall be more certain of his design."
They now cautiously advanced into the river, which, though rapid, was
shallow; and having reached the middle of the stream, they halted to
allow their horses water.
"Captain Peter is as thirsty as a man in a fever," said Horse Shoe. "He
drinks as if he was laying in for a week. Now, major, since we are here
in the river, look up the stream. Don't you see, from the image in the
water, that there's a fire on the bank? And there, by my soul! there are
men on horseback. Look towards the light. Spur, and out on the other
side! Quick--quick--they are upon us!"
At the same instant that Horse Shoe spoke, a bullet whistled close by
his ear; and, in the next, six or eight men galloped into the river,
from different points. This was succeeded by a sharp report of fire-arms
from both parties, and the vigorous charge of Robinson, followed by
Butler, through the array of the assailants. They gained the opposite
bank, and now directed all their efforts to outrun their pursuers; but
in the very crisis of their escape, Butler's horse, bounding under the
prick of the spur, staggered a few paces from the river and fell dead. A
bullet had lodged in a vital part, and the energy of the brave steed was
spent in the effort to bear his master through the stream. Butler fell
beneath the stricken animal, from whence he was unable to extricate
himself. The sergeant, seeing his comrade's condition, sprang from his
horse and ran to his assistance, and, in the same interval, the ruffian
followers gained the spot and surrounded their prisoners. An ineffectual
struggle ensued over the prostrate horse and rider, in which Robinson
bore down more than one of his adversaries, but was obliged, at last, to
yield to the overwhelming power that pressed upon him.
"Bury your swords in both of them to the hilts!" shouted Habershaw; "I
don't want to have that work to do to-morrow."
"Stand off!" cried Gideon Blake, as two or three of the gang sprang
forward to execute their captain's order; "stand off! the man is on his
back, and he shall not be murdered in cold blood;" and the speaker took
a position near Butler, prepared to make good his resolve. The spirit
of Blake had its desired effect, and the same assailants now turned upon
Robinson.
"Hold!" cried Peppercorn, throwing up his sword and warding off the
blows that were aimed by these men at the body of the sergeant. "Hold,
you knaves! this is my prisoner. I will deal with him to my liking.
Would a dozen of you strike one man when he has surrendered? Back, ye
cowards; leave him to me. How now, old Horse Shoe; are you caught, with
your gay master here? Come, come, we know you both. So yield with a good
grace, lest, peradventure, I might happen to blow out your brains."
"Silence, fellows! You carrion crows!" roared Habershaw. "Remember the
discipline I taught you. No disorder, nor confusion, but take the
prisoners, since you hav'n't the heart to strike; take them to the
rendezvous. And do it quietly--do you hear? Secure the baggage; and
about it quickly, you hounds!"
Butler was now lifted from the ground, and, with his companion, was
taken into the custody of Blake and one or two of his companions, who
seemed to share in his desire to prevent the shedding of blood. The
prisoners were each mounted behind one of the troopers, and in this
condition conducted across the river. The saddle and other equipments
were stripped from the major's dead steed; and Robinson's horse, Captain
Peter, was burdened with the load of two wounded men, whose own horses
had escaped from them in the fray. In this guise the band of
freebooters, with their prisoners and spoils, slowly and confusedly made
their way to the appointed place of re-assembling. In a few moments they
were ranged beneath the chestnut, waiting for orders from their
self-important and vain commander.