A RIDE TO WILLIAMSBURG
I was received civilly enough at Riverview, and soon determined to remain
there until Major Washington returned from the west. My aunt treated me
with great consideration, doubtless because she feared to anger me, and I
soon fell into the routine of the estate. My cousin James, a roystering
boy of fourteen, was not yet old enough to be covetous, and he and I were
soon friends. Dorothy treated me as she had always done, with a hearty
sisterly affection, which gave me much uneasiness, 't was so unlike my
own, and I was at some pains to point out to her that we were not
cousins, nor, indeed, any relation whatsoever. In return for which she
merely laughed at me.
By great good fortune, I found among the overseers on my aunt's estate a
man who had been a soldier of fortune in the Old World until some
escapade had driven him to seek safety in the colonies, and with my
aunt's permission, I secured him to teach me what he knew of the practice
of arms, a tutelage which he entered upon with fine enthusiasm. He was
called Captain Paul on the plantation,--a little, wiry man, with fierce
mustaches and flashing eyes, greatly feared by the negroes, though he
always treated them kindly enough, so far as I could see. He claimed to
be an Englishman,--certainly he spoke the language as well as any I ever
heard,--but his dark eyes and swarthy skin bespoke the Spaniard or
Italian, and his quickness with the foils the French. A strain of all
these bloods I think he must have had, but of his family he would tell me
nothing, nor of the trouble which had brought him over-sea. But of his
feats of arms he loved to speak,--and they were worth the telling. He had
been with Plelo's heroic little band of Frenchmen before Dantzic, where a
hundred deeds of valor were performed every day, and with Broglie before
Parma, where he had witnessed the rout of the Austrians. For hours
together I made him recount to me the story of his campaigns, and when he
grew weary of talking and I of listening, we had a round with the rapier,
or a bout with the sword on horseback, and as the weeks passed, I found I
was gaining some small proficiency. He drilled me, too, in another
exercise which he thought most important, that of shooting from horseback
with the pistol.
"'T is an accomplishment which has saved my life a score of times," he
would say, "and of more value in a charge than any swordsmanship. A man
must be a swordsman to defend his honor, and a good shot with the pistol
to defend his life. Accomplished in both, he is armed cap-a-pie against
the world. The pistol has its rules as well as the sword. For instance,--
"'When you charge an adversary, always compel him to fire first, for the
one who fires first rarely hits his mark.
"'At the instant you see him about to fire, make your horse rear. This
will throw your horse before you as a shield, and if the aim is true, 't
will be your horse that is hit and not yourself. The life of a horse is
valuable, but that of a man is more so.
"If your horse has not been hit, or is not badly hurt, you have your
adversary at your mercy, and can either kill him or take him prisoner, as
you may choose. If he be well mounted, and well accoutred, it is usually
wisest to take him prisoner.
"'If your horse has been hit mortally, take care that in falling you get
clear of him by holding your leg well out and so alighting on your feet.
You can easily recover in time to pistol your adversary as he passes.
"'Above everything, learn to aim quickly, with both eyes open, the arm
slightly bent, the pistol no higher than the breast. When the arm is
fully extended, the tension causes it to tremble and so destroys the aim,
and the man who cannot hit the mark without sighting along the barrel is
usually dead before he can pull the trigger.'"
These and many other things he told me, and that I threw myself with
eagerness into the lessons I need hardly say, though I never acquired his
proficiency with either pistol or rapier. For I have seen him bring down
a hawk upon the wing, or throwing his finger-ring high into the air, pass
his rapier neatly through it as it shot down past him. Another trick of
his do I remember,--une, deux, trois, and a turn of the wrist in
flanconade,--which seldom failed to tear my sword from my hand, so
quickly and irresistibly did he perform it. What his lot has been I do
not know, for when the king's troops came to Virginia, he was seized with
a strange restlessness and resigned from my aunt's service, going I know
not whither; but if he be alive, there is a place at my board and a
corner of my chimney for him, where he would be more than welcome.
In the mean time, not a word had been received from Major Washington--we
called him major now, deeming that he had well earned the title--since
he had plunged into the wilderness at Will's Creek in mid-November,
accompanied only by Christopher Gist as guide, John Davidson and Jacob
Van Braam as interpreters, and four woodsmen, Barnaby Currin, John
M'Quire, Henry Steward, and William Jenkins, as servants. November and
December passed, and Christmas was at hand. There had been great
preparation for it at Riverview, for we of Virginia loved the holiday the
more because the Puritans detested it, and all the smaller gentry of the
county was gathered at the house, where there were feasting and dancing
and much merry-making. One incident of it do I remember most
distinctly,--that having, with consummate generalship, cornered Mistress
Dorothy under a sprig of mistletoe, I suddenly found myself utterly
bereft of the courage to carry the matter to a conclusion, and allowed
her to escape unkissed, for which she laughed at me most unmercifully
once the danger was passed, though she had feigned the utmost indignation
while the assault threatened. So the holidays went and New Year's came.
It was the thirteenth of January, and in the dusk of the evening I was
riding back to the house as usual after my bout with Captain Paul, when I
heard far up the road behind me the beat of horse's hoofs. Instinctively
I knew it was Major Washington, and I drew rein and watched the rider
swinging toward me. In a moment he was at my side, and we exchanged a
warm handclasp from saddle to saddle.
"I am on my way to Riverview," he said, as we again urged our horses
forward. "I hope to stay there the night and start at daybreak for
Williamsburg to make my report to the governor. Do you care to accompany
me, Mr. Stewart?"
"Do you need to ask?" I cried. "And what was the outcome of your
mission, sir?"
"There will be war," he said, and his face darkened. "It is as I
foresaw. The French are impudent, and claim the land belongs to them and
not to us."
Neither of us spoke again, but I confess I was far from sharing the gloom
of my companion. Had I not determined to be a soldier, and how was a
soldier to find employment, but in war? I looked at him narrowly as we
rode, and saw that he was thinner than when he had left us, and that his
face was browned by much exposure.
Right heartily was he welcomed to Riverview, and when dinner had been
served and ended, nothing would do but that he should sit down among us
and tell us the story of his mission. He could scarce have failed to draw
inspiration from such an audience, for Dorothy's eyes were sparkling, and
I was fairly trembling with excitement. Would that I could tell the story
as he told it, but that were impossible.
He and his little party had gone from Will's Creek to the forks of the
Ohio, through the untrodden wilderness and across swollen streams,
struggling on over the threatening mountains and fighting their way
through the gloomy and unbroken forest, and thence down the river to the
Indian village of Logstown. There he had parleyed with the Indians for
near a week before he could persuade the Half King and three of his
tribesmen to accompany him as guides. Buffeted by unceasing storms, they
toiled on to Venango, where there was an English trading-house, which the
French had seized and converted into a military post. Chabert de Joncaire
commanded, and received the party most civilly. Major Washington was
banqueted that evening by the officers of the post, and as the wine
flowed freely, the French forgot their prudence, and declared
unreservedly that they intended keeping possession of the Ohio, whether
the English liked it or not. Joncaire, however, asserted that he could
not receive Dinwiddie's letter, and referred Major Washington to his
superior officer at Fort le Boeuf. So, leaving Venango, for four days
more the party struggled northward. The narrow traders' path had been
quite blotted out, and the forest was piled waist-deep with snow. At
last, when it seemed that human endurance could win no further, they
sighted the squared chestnut walls of Fort le Boeuf.
The commander here, Legardeur de Saint-Pierre, also received them well,
and to him Major Washington delivered his letter from Governor Dinwiddie,
asking by what right the French had crossed the Lakes and invaded British
territory, and demanding their immediate withdrawal. Saint-Pierre was
three days preparing his answer, which he intrusted to Major Washington,
and at the end of that time the latter, with great difficulty persuading
his Indians to accompany him, started back to Virginia. They reached
Venango on Christmas Day. Here their horses gave out, and he and Gist
pushed forward alone on foot, leaving the others to follow as best they
might. A French Indian fired at them from ambush, but missed his mark,
and to escape pursuit by his tribesmen, they walked steadily forward for
a day and a night, until they reached the Allegheny. They tried to make
the crossing on a raft, but were caught in the drifting ice and nearly
drowned before they gained an island in the middle of the river. Here
they remained all night, foodless and well-nigh frozen, and in the
morning, finding the ice set, crossed in safety to the shore. Once
across, they reached the house of a man named Fraser, on the
Monongahela,--a house they were to see again, but under far different
circumstances,--and leaving there on the first day of January, they made
their way back to the settlements without adventure. Major Washington had
reached Mount Vernon that afternoon, and after stopping to see his
mother, had ridden on to Riverview.
Long before the recital ended, I was out of my chair and pacing up and
down the room, and Dorothy clapped her hands with joy when that perilous
passage of the Allegheny had been accomplished.
"So you think there will be war?" I asked. "But you do not know what M.
de Saint-Pierre has written to the governor."
"I can guess," he answered, with a smile. "Yes, there will be war."
"And if there is?" I cried, all my eagerness in my face.
"And if there is, Mr. Stewart," he said calmly, but with a deep light in
his eyes, "depend upon it, you shall go with me."
I wrung his hand madly. I could have embraced him. Dorothy laughed at my
enthusiasm, but with a trace of tears in her eyes, or so I fancied.
Well, we were finally abed, and up betimes in the morning. Our horses
were brought round from the stable, and our bags swung up behind the
saddles. I had tried in vain, all the morning, to corner Dorothy so
that I might say good-by with no one looking on, but the minx had
eluded me, and I had to be content with a mere handclasp on the steps
before the others. But as we rode away and I looked back for a last
sight of her, she waved her hands to me and blew me a kiss from her
fingers. So my heart was warm within me as we pushed on through the
dark aisles of the forest.
The roads were heavy with mud and melting snow, for the weather had
turned warm, and it was not until mid-afternoon that we reached
Fredericksburg. We stopped there an hour to feed and wind our horses, and
then pressed on to the country seat of Mr. Philip Clayton, below Port
Royal, on the Rappahannock. Major Washington had met Mr. Clayton at
Williamsburg, and he welcomed us most kindly. By the evening of the
second day we had reached King William Court House, where we found a very
good inn, and the next day, just as evening came, we clattered into
Williamsburg, very tired and very dirty. But without drawing rein, Major
Washington rode straight to the governor's house, threw his bridle to a
negro, and ordered a footman to announce him at once to his master.
"You are to come with me, Mr. Stewart," he said, seeing that I hesitated.
"'T will be a good time to present you to his Excellency," and we walked
together up the wide steps which led to the veranda.
Even as we reached the top, the door at the end of the hall was thrown
violently open, and Governor Dinwiddie stumbled toward us, his face red
with excitement. He had evidently just risen from table, for he carried a
napkin in his hand, and there were traces of food on his expansive
waistcoat, for he was anything but a dainty feeder. His uncertain gait
showed that he still suffered from the effects of a recent attack of
paralysis.
"By God, Major Washington," he cried, "but I'm glad to see you! I'd begun
to think the French or the Indians had gobbled you up. So you've got
back, sir? And did you see the French?"
"I saw the French, your Excellency," answered Washington, taking his
outstretched hand. "I delivered your message, and brought one in reply.
But first let me present my friend, Mr. Thomas Stewart, who is a neighbor
of mine at Mount Vernon and a man of spirit."
"Glad to meet you, Mr. Stewart," said Dinwiddie, and he gave me his hand
for an instant. "We may have need erelong of men of spirit."
"I trust so, certainly, your Excellency," I cried, and bowed before him.
Dinwiddie looked at me for an instant with a smile.
"Come, gentlemen," he said, "you have been riding all day, I dare say,
and must have some refreshment," but Washington placed a hand on his arm
as he turned to give an order to one of the waiting negroes.
"Not until I have made my report, Governor Dinwiddie," he said.
Dinwiddie turned back to him.
"You're a man after my own heart, Major Washington!" he cried. "Come into
my office, both of you, for, in truth, I am dying of impatience to hear
of the journey," and he led the way into a spacious room, where there was
a great table littered with papers, a dozen chairs, but little other
furniture. The candles were brought, and Dinwiddie dropped into a deep
chair, motioning Washington and myself to sit down opposite him. "Now,
major," he cried, "let us have your story."
So Washington told again of the trip over the mountains and through the
forests, Dinwiddie interrupting from time to time with an exclamation of
wonder or approbation.
"Here is the message from M. de Saint-Pierre," concluded Washington,
drawing a sealed packet from an inner pocket. "'T is somewhat stained by
water, but I trust still legible."
Dinwiddie took it with nervous fingers, glanced at the superscription,
tore it open, and ran his eyes rapidly over the contents. My hands were
trembling, for I realized that on this note hung the issue of war or
peace for America. He read it through a second time more slowly, then
folded it very calmly and laid it down before him on the table. My heart
sank within me,--it was peace, then, and there would be no employment for
my sword. I had been wasting my time with Captain Paul. But when
Dinwiddie raised his eyes, I saw they were agleam.
"M. de Saint-Pierre writes," he said, "that he cannot discuss the
question of territory, since that is quite without his province, but will
send my message to the Marquis Duquesne, in command of the French armies
in America, at Quebec, and will await his orders. He adds that, in the
mean time, he will remain at his post, as his general has commanded."
We were all upon our feet. I drew a deep breath, and saw that
Washington's hand was trembling on his sword-hilt.
"Since he will not leave of his own accord," cried Dinwiddie, his
calmness slipping from him in an instant, "there remains only one thing
to be done,--he must be made to leave, and not a French uniform must be
left in the Ohio valley! Major Washington, I offer you the senior
majorship of the regiment which will march against him."
"And I accept, sir!" cried Washington, moved as I had seldom seen him.
"May I ask your Excellency's permission to appoint Mr. Stewart here one
of my ensigns?"
"Certainly," said the governor heartily. "From what I have seen of Mr.
Stewart, I should conclude that nothing could be better;" and when I
tried to stammer my thanks, he waved his hand to me kindly and rang for
wine. "Let us drink," he said, as he filled the glasses, "to the success
of our arms and the establishment of his Majesty's dominion on the Ohio."