Blennerhassett was afloat to join Burr. The management of the affairs
of the island devolved upon his wife. In the sole care of one woman
were left houses and land, man and beast, domestic duties at home and
business transactions abroad. Her children required constant
attention, and the servants, bond and free, for the most part lazy,
evasive, and insubordinate--spoilt by the inefficiency of a
vacillating master--were hard to govern or to please. Peter Taylor
was insidious, but plausible; Albright, obstinate; the negroes, with
few exceptions, "something between a hindrance and a help."
On returning to her house at midnight, having just seen her husband
embark, the vigilant wife and mother did not bury her troubles in
sleep. The urgent demands of a crisis not to be postponed forbade
slumber. The words of General Tupper rang in her ears: "I arrest you
by the authority of the State of Ohio." That her peace and liberty
would soon be threatened, if not taken from her, by civil or by
military force, she had much reason to fear; that her island retreat
was already invaded by scouts from the Virginia militia she did not
surmise. "How I wish I were a man," she said to herself, and sat down
to think how a man in her situation would act. Whatever may have been
the sex of her brain, her mind worked swiftly, both to decide and to
will. "I shall go to Marietta," was her mental conclusion, "and make
another effort to secure the family boat for my children and myself.
It belongs to my husband; he paid for it from his own private purse; I
will claim that boat."
The tardy sun, peering through the dense fog of the following morning,
caught a first glimpse of Madam Blennerhassett when she dismounted
near Fort Harmar, and asked to be ferried across the Muskingum, to the
boatyard on the eastern shore. The resolute lady sought the town
authorities of Marietta--magistrates, lawyers, generals, merchants,
common laborers--whom she importuned to intercede in her behalf. She
argued, she coaxed, she threatened, she tried the persuasive influence
of bribes, and as a last resort, she summoned tears to plead her
cause--but of no avail--she failed to obtain the boat. Enraged,
disappointed, filled with anxious forebodings, she recrossed the
Muskingum, and started back over the road which leads to Belpre,
following the windings of the Ohio.
During her absence from home a very disagreeable surprise was
preparing for her. The militia of Wood County, Virginia, crossed over
to the island and camped on the most eligible grounds they could find,
the premises nearest Blennerhassett's buildings. The commander of this
reckless and undisciplined infantry, Colonel Hugh Phelps, did not
appear at the place of rendezvous until late in the day, having gone
on a reconnoitering errand, to the mouth of the Kanawha, hoping to
intercept Blennerhassett. The soldiers, if a name so honorable can be
applied to the raw levy, mustered on the spur of the moment, assumed
all the boisterous swagger which, as they imagined, was the
prerogative of the citizen dressed in uniform and armed with musket.
It was their idea that a soldier's privilege is insolence, and the
badge of his superiority, self-importance. The captain and lieutenants
exercised slight control over the men in the ranks, who conceived that
the offices had gone to the wrong men. The Wood County militia
regarded itself as an "army of occupation," by law and precedent
warranted in abusing a brief authority. Instead of guarding and
protecting property not their own, the men showed their patriotic zeal
by mutilating or demolishing the results of Blennerhassett's labor.
They took malicious pleasure in wantonly defacing whatever was elegant
or ornamental. They tore off the fence-palings to build their
camp-fires; they broke down young fruit trees and pulled up evergreen
shrubs; they ransacked barns and outhouses, stole hoarded apples,
killed chickens, and frightened the negro slaves out of their small
wits. Peter Taylor protested in vain; the roysterers threatened to put
Peter in the guard-house and gag him, or even to "string him up," if
he didn't hold his tongue.
The butler was forced to produce the keys to the wine-cellar, and the
consequences of his surrender were what might have been expected. The
mischief already perpetrated in coarse fun--the horseplay of
backwoods big boys cut loose from restraint, though rude and
destructive, was harmless compared with the orgies to which it was a
prelude. The rich and abundant liquors stored away to supply the
family demand for twenty years were in a day poured down the throats
of the pseudo-soldiers. Under the influence of drink many of the
privates, and not a few officers, lost all sense of decency. Some of
the bolder among them entered the house, roamed through kitchen,
parlor, library, bedrooms. One drunken lout smashed the rare
violincello, another brought the gilded harp out into the barnyard and
used it as a gridiron on which to roast a confiscated pig. The oil
portrait of Blennerhassett, set up as a target, was riddled with
bullets.
Dominick made a frantic effort to rescue his father's picture from so
ignominious a fate, but, cuffed on the ear by a bully, the boy had no
recourse except to hide away in his mother's room with Harman and the
black housemaid, Juno.
Such were the scenes enacting in and around her beautiful mansion,
while the disappointed mistress was hurrying homeward. A heavy fog
still hung over the valley and almost hid the sullen waters of the
river from view. As Madam Blennerhassett urged her horse along the
river road, her vigilant eye kept her aware of a small boat, which,
soon after her starting back from Marietta, she had seen glide out of
the mouth of the Muskingum and drift down the Ohio, hugging close to
the north shore. Indistinctly, through the mist, she could make out
the shape of a man rowing the boat. Whenever she quickened the pace of
her horse, the man plied his oars rapidly; whenever she slackened
reins, the man slowed up; he kept opposite her and was watching her.
Madam Blennerhassett was a courageous woman; but she was a woman, and
she began to be afraid. Why was that man furtively following her down
the river? Why did he keep her constantly in sight? What might be his
evil design? Her terror increased as she neared the ferry, where she
had ordered Peter Taylor and Ransom, the negro, to await her return.
Striking her steed smartly with the riding whip, she galloped fast.
She reached the ferry landing, the boat was there, but Peter Taylor,
in whose face she read distressful tidings, was reluctant to carry her
over.
"Maybe, mum, you'd best stay in Belpre; there's a rough set on the
island."
"The militia, I suppose," said she. "Make haste! Take me to my
children."
Hesitatingly, the rowers obeyed their mistress, whose eyes watchfully
pierced the fog, in every direction, though nothing could she see of
the sneaking river-spy or of his canoe. She drew a long breath of
relief, and turned inquiringly to Peter Taylor.
"Has anything gone wrong?"
"Heverything 'as gone wrong!"
He told her a dismal tale of the doings of the militia, dwelling on
his own inglorious sufferings. A flush reddened his mistress's cheeks,
her eyes flashed and her heart was on fire. "Go faster! Work with all
your might!"
The white man and his black helper bent hard to their poles, and
brought the boat speedily to the landing. The horse was led ashore and
its rider sprang into the saddle, and galloped to the door of her
house. The soldiers, bivouacking in the front yard, stared in
amazement as she rode past. In a minute, in a second, she alighted and
swept into the parlor, where six or eight brawling intruders sat on
mahogany chairs and upholstered sofas, drinking wine and singing
filthy songs. One fellow, maudlin from liquor, rolled on the Smyrna
rug. Another was in the act of firing a bullet at the frescoed
ceiling.
"Robbers! Cowards! Beasts! Begone! Where is your commanding officer?
By whose permission are you here? Young man"--this to a
captain--"you wear a sword--draw it and drive these ruffians out!
This is my house. You have no warrant to break in, like a band of
thieves."
This speech and the imperious bearing of the offended woman checked,
but did not stop the orgies of the irresponsible men. A few slunk from
the room, ashamed and overawed. But the mob spirit was not to be
quenched by an angry lady's lofty speech. The brutal element
prevailed. What cared those intoxicated revellers for a scolding
tongue? The young captain, his head swimming in the fumes of whiskey,
impudently replied, "I'm in command here myself, my dear. When Phelps
comes back, I'll interduce you to him." The soldiers yawped applause.
In the midst of the uproar, Juno, the house servant, ventured to come
in by way of the library, with Harman. The child ran to his mother
where she stood in the centre of the room. A saucy corporal broke out
with obscene speech and plucked at the dress of the negro girl,
imitating the affrighted child.
Again the mistress made a vain appeal:
"Do American soldiers abuse women?"
"A nigger's not a woman!" hiccoughed the corporal, and his words were
applauded by a general guffaw.
"Think of your own sisters and mothers and wives!"
"Wives! That's good! How many wives do you s'pose I've got? I wish to
hell I had a bloomin' wife like yerself. Yer man's run away, how will
I do for a substitute?"
"Shouldn't wonder," interrupted the captain, "if the damned Irish
traitor was lynched by this time."
Madam Blennerhassett looked around imploringly and supplicated:
"I am alone here with my poor children. Will no one take our part? Is
there not one man here who will defend me?"
A drawling voice responded:
"By ginger-root, there _is_ sich a man. Blast you, you forward skunks,
git out of this! Say, you woods-colt with the humps on your shoulders
and a stalk-knife by your side, help drive these hogs into the Ohio
River. They've got more devils in 'em than what's-his-name, in the
Holy Scripture, cast into all the swine of Jerusalem. Git out, I say,
you knock-kneed jackasses!"
Loquacity was Byle's riches, but he could transmute speech into
action. Instead of wasting words, he began to deliver convincing
blows. His first stroke sent the obscene corporal to the floor, minus
front teeth and consciousness. The amazed captain labored to unsheath
his sword, but Byle snatched the rusty weapon and thwacked the young
scapegrace over the pate with it. A rash rustic drew up musket and
fired; the ball grazed Plutarch's right thumb, bringing blood. This
enraged the doughty champion to the highest pitch of his fighting
compass. Rushing upon the dismayed private, he seized the offending
musket with both hands, and snapped stock from barrel by suddenly
pressing the piece against his bent knee. So impetuous and so violent
and so general was the onslaught of Plutarch, that the untried
militiamen, "flown with insolence and wine," were taken aback,
surprised and confounded. Seeing his advantage, the gaunt giant
resumed bellicose speech, like a Greek taunting the Trojans.
"Bust my buttons, bimeby I'll get mad, and hurt some of you 'fore I
know what I'm about! What the Holy Moses did you shoot my thumb for?
durn you! Don't you guess I've any feelin', you onery idiot? Needn't
be skeered, Margaret, I'll make ground mustard out of anybody that
dares touch a hair of your head with his sass!"
The rout, ignominiously driven from the parlor by the vigorous
assaults of Byle, immediately rallied, in the yard, ashamed of their
precipitate panic and retreat. The humiliated captain gave orders to a
file of men to enter the house and take the champion, alive or dead.
This command might have been executed had not Colonel Phelps come upon
the scene unexpectedly. A rapid survey of the premises, a few
inquiries, revealed to him the shameful misbehavior of his officers
and men. Byle freely imparted his version of how matters stood.
"Colonel, these scandalous boys of yourn are guilty of burglary in
open daylight! yes, and of unprovoked 'sault and batter, prepense. The
law is on our side, all round. The citizen has an inalienable right to
defend his home and family, and we did, didn't we, Harman?"
Phelps admitted the correctness of Plutarch's views. To the captain
the colonel said sternly:
"Consider yourself under arrest. You have disgraced your temporary
commission." Addressing the derelict soldiery, he added:
"You are not fit to carry muskets! Shame upon you, men, shame! You
have soiled the name of Virginia, and stained the honor of your
homes."
"Say, cap'n," resumed Byle, staunching his bloody thumb with the
fringe of his buckskin doublet, "you'd best trade your side arms for
this young un's tin sword; git it for him, bub; and I'll make him a
pop-gun of elder-wood. Colonel Hugh Phelps, of Parkurgberg, how are
you? Excuse my not shaking hands sooner."
Phelps assumed a haughty military attitude, which displayed to
advantage his large and imposing form. "Who is this person?" he asked
the captain.
"Jersey cranberries! Don't you know me? I've heard of the Phelpses
ever since I was knee-high to a duck. They are folks nobody need feel
ticklish about shaking hands with. You're the only swelled up one of
the stock. I never knowed but one wuthless Phelp, and he was a good
enough fisher when he was sober. Colonel, were you ever picked up by
puttin' out your paw to the wrong man? Want to see inside the
'stablishment? Come right in, I'll introduce you to Mrs.
Blennerhassett."
The colonel pushed forward through the open door and accosted the
dignified lady, who was taking an inventory of the ruined household
effects. Byle stalked into the room at the officer's side.
In the stately manner of the gentry of the period, Phelps made his
compliments and solicited a brief interview. He apologized as well as
he could for the outrageous behavior of the militia, and offered to do
anything in his power to make amends. The only favor which the proud
woman asked was the privilege of embarking as soon as practicable, on
a down-river boat that would carry her and her children to the South.
"Can you procure for me the family boat which my husband provided for
us at Marietta?"
The colonel feared not. Marietta was out of his jurisdiction.
"Is there any boat that I can borrow here, or buy? I must join my
husband; I promised him that I would not delay."
"I'd lend you my big piroque, but you'll overset before you get as far
as Farmer's Castle," said Byle.
"Pardon me," responded Madam Blennerhassett, in tones of apology,
bestowing looks of infinite gratitude on her zealous guardian; "I
cannot put in words my sense of obligation to you, sir. Colonel
Phelps, I owe to this gentleman more than money can repay! It was he
who protected me and my servants from the drunken soldiers; he drove
them out, risking his life; he was wounded defending us!"
"You don't owe me a fip. It is no trouble at all to me to do a little
chore for you. It was fool's luck, anyway. I saw you in town this
morning, skiting about, from pillar to post, and says I to myself,
'There's uneasiness under that fine bonnet!' I noticed you dodge in at
the court-house and at Squire Hale's, and everywhere, and something
told me to investigate. So I went in wherever I saw you come out, in
reg'lar order, and larnt, I guess, just about as much as you did,
about your disappointment and your worry. Then I thought, 'as like as
not that woman is having more trouble down upon the island than I know
anything about. So, true as calamus is sweet-flag, as soon as you was
on your white horse, like the old lady of Banbury Cross, I was in my
everyday skiff, and I didn't lose you out of my sight from the minute
you started to the minute Peter and Ransom took you on the ferry--but
I slid along where you couldn't spy me."
"I did see you, sir, and I confess I imagined you might be some
river-ruffian watching me with no good intention. I did you great
injustice."
"I looked like a river pirate, did I? No, ma'am, I was a privateer,
but not a pirate. I was sailing under your colors, unbeknown to you.
Is that correct military language, Phelps? To make a long story short,
Scipio told me in his charcoal style what happened last night, and all
about Harman's sudden going away. Well, sir--ma'am, I mean--it
struck me of a heap. I never was worse doubled up by news in my life.
I'm not a praying man, as a rule--I only remember praying out loud
once--that was when brother Euc was near 'bout dead with cholera
morbus--I began to pray, and he says, 'Don't be fooling with the Lord
now, but give me some more camphire.' That speech of Euc's sort of
cured me of praying out loud, though I'm orthodox. Let's see; where
was I? Oh, yes, I felt so dangnation sorry for the family, that I
says, in my mind, or I reckon it was in my soul, I says to God, 'Don't
forget to keep your all-seeing eye on Margaret.' Well, Colonel Phelps;
I leave you in charge of the widow and the fatherless. If you have any
trouble with the militia, just send for Plutarch Byle. Good-bye, Mrs.
B. I never seen you lookin' handsomer since the day I first met you
and Evaleen, last May a year ago, when I was up here investigating
that hunk of raw beef in the puddle."
Notwithstanding his precipitate farewell, Plutarch lingered at the
door, and kept nervously wiping the blood off his thumb upon the
fringe of his doublet. Mrs. Blennerhassett, with gracious solicitude,
insisted upon wrapping a small linen handkerchief about the wounded
member. The gawky hero looked very sheepish while she tied the soft
bandage fast.
"Is this yourn?" he asked.
"It was mine," she answered, smiling amusedly, "but it now belongs to
the knight who came to fight my battle when I was in great distress."
"By gum, I'm obliged to you."
Uttering these elegant parting words, Byle bolted out of the room to
the long porch. He stood a moment, then turned his face toward the
door, where stood the lady, smiling her embarrassed thanks and adieux.
Big tears were trickling down Plutarch's cheeks. The awkward giant
gulped, wheeled round, and with long strides made a bee-line for his
boat, followed as he left the yard by cheers from the Wood County
militia.
* * * * *
Fortunately, a party of youths, including Morgan Neville, William
Robinson, young Brackenridge, and a dozen others, who had attached
themselves to Burr and Arlington in Pittsburg, came down the Ohio, in
a flatboat belonging to one of their associates, Thomas Butler. These
adventurous voyagers, suspected of complicity with Burr, were
arraigned before three justices of the peace, of the Dogberry caliber,
and after a ludicrous examination were acquitted. The best room of
their boat was fitted up with carpets, hangings, and a suite of
furniture taken from the chambers of the White House, soon to be
deserted. The unplaned, unpainted cabin, perfumed by the sour odor of
oaken planks and the scent of pine resin, was transformed into an
Eastern boudoir--couches, divans, gorgeous colors and all, for the
accommodation of Mrs. Blennerhassett.
The ill-starred gentlewoman whose passion for the magnificent prompted
her to adorn her floating bower thus luxuriously, and who, like
Cleopatra, was attended on her barge by Ethiop slaves, had not
relinquished her faith in Burr's dream of conquest and empire.
"Where are we going," asked Harman, when the boat which was to convey
the family to Bayou Pierre had been pushed off from their island, and
the mother and her children realized that they were afloat upon the
river.
"We are going to meet your father in a splendid city far away in the
South."
"Will Colonel Burr be there?"
"Yes, but we shall not then call him Colonel; he will be Emperor."
"And what will you be, mamma?"
"A duchess, my son."
The weary mother sank back upon her oriental divan, which was piled
with cushions, and closed her eyes in fragrant slumber, a luxury she
had foregone for many days and nights.