"The eager pack from couples freed,
Dash through the bush, the briar, the brake,
While answering hound, and horn, and steed,
The mountain echoes startling wake."
_The Wild Huntsman_.
A few days after the events recorded in the last chapter, the denizens
of the ancient city were roused betimes by the sounds of the hunter's
horn, the echoing chorus of the eager hounds, and the neighing of the
fiery steeds, as they were led forth to the gallant pastime of the
chase. The river and overhanging hills were enveloped in an impenetrable
veil of mist, and the dew settled in a snowy cloud, upon the hair and
castors of the Cavaliers as they issued from their doors, rubbing their
eyes and preparing to mount the mettled coursers which pawed the earth
and blew thick volumes of smoke from their expanded nostrils. These
preparations for the enlivening sports of the field were not confined to
a small number of the civic youth, or to the keener sportsmen among
their elders--all the gentry of the town and colony, with few
exceptions, were assembled on the occasion.
Sir William Berkley with his numerous guests, Gideon Fairfax, with his
fellows of the Council, the members of the House of Burgesses, now
principally occupying the hotel of the "Berkley Arms," Frank Beverly,
Philip Ludwell, Charles Dudley, with the Harrisons, the Powells, &c. all
now came curvetting into the public square, dressed in their gay hunting
jerkens and neat foraging caps, some with bugles swinging from their
shoulders, and others with firearms suspended at their backs.
A stately gray-headed old negro, known by the cognomen of Congo, was in
command of some half score of more youthful footmen of his own colour,
in the livery of the Governor, each of whom held the leashes of a pair
of hounds.
These, from time to time as old Congo wound a skilful blast upon his
bugle, opened a deafening chorus, which echoed through the surrounding
forests, and awakened from their slumbers the drowsy citizens of the
town. Many a damsel peeped from her lattice to catch a glimpse of the
gay Cavaliers as they wheeled into the place of rendezvous in parties of
tens and twenties, all noisy and boisterous; some with the anticipation
of the promised sports, and others from the more artificial stimulus of
a morning julep. The sound of Congo's bugle had reverberated through the
silent streets in signal blasts to the grooms of the gentry at a much
earlier hour of the morning, so that many of the high-born damsels
inhabiting the purlieus of this little court, were also on the alert.
Among these our heroine, awakened by the echoing chorus of the "hunter's
horn," was already dressed and smiling from her window, like one of her
own sweet flowers, upon the gay young Cavaliers, as they passed in
review before her.
In an adjoining window was another inhabitant of the same mansion,
roused by the same cheering notes, but he smiled not upon the joyous
throng as they gathered around the spot occupied by Congo and his canine
favourites, nor yet upon those of the gay youths who rode up and touched
their beavers respectfully to the smiling maiden as they singly or in
pairs cantered away over the bridge in pursuit of their day's sport. It
was Bacon! his head bandaged and his countenance pale and wan from his
late illness and loss of blood.
Nevertheless he was dressed, and as eager for the sport as any youth
among them, but exhausted nature negatived his feeble efforts and
longing aspirations, and he had seated himself at the window in sullen
disappointment. This latter feeling was in nowise subdued by the sight
of Frank Beverly, already recovered from his slight wounds, dressed in a
scarlet jerken and hunting cap, a bugle over his shoulder, and mounted
upon a noble animal apparently as eager to display his fine proportions
as his master. The thundering clatter of the chargers' heels as this
numerous cavalcade now passed in long succession over the bridge before
the gazing citizens, thus untimely awakened from their slumbers, at
length began to die away in silence, broken at intervals by the measured
tramp of an occasional party of the more staid, older and less eager
Cavaliers, pursuing the main body at a pace more suited to their age; or
by the gallop of some slumbering sluggard hastening to overtake his more
punctual comrades of the chase. Now and then a note from the bugle of
some overjoyous youth, as he entered the forest, brought a frown upon
the brow of old Congo, whose look was turned in silent appeal against
these irregular proceedings, to his master, who rode apart in earnest
conversation with Mr. Fairfax. While our sportsmen are thus joyously
moving on their way to the appointed spot, we will pursue the thread of
the dialogue between the two dignitaries just alluded to, as it had
reference to the leading personages of our story.
"Nay, treat not my apprehensions lightly, Fairfax; is not that youth who
leans so disconsolately out of your window this morning, a proper knight
to catch the errant fancies of a girl of sixteen?" said Sir William.
"He is indeed a right well-favoured boy," replied Mr. Fairfax, "and one
calculated to win his way to a colder heart than that of a maiden near
his own age. Was he not the means of your own preservation, Sir William,
from the knives of yonder murderous fanatics cooped up in the jail of
the city?"
"Ay!" said his companion, drily, "I grant him to be all that you say he
is, but does not that enforce more powerfully what I have been saying?
Ought you not under such circumstances, to acquaint him with the
necessity of his finding another house than your's for his home, where
your daughter is constantly before his eyes, and what is more important,
where he is constantly before her's, not only with the attractions of
his own well-favoured person, but in the interesting character of her
father's and her uncle's preserver?"
"If the poor youth had ever presumed upon his position in my family, to
make advances to my daughter, then indeed there might be some propriety
in the course you recommend, Sir William. But I have observed him
closely since our last conversation on this subject, and I am satisfied
that there is nothing more than fraternal affection between them."
"It is very difficult, Fairfax, for the parties themselves to draw an
exact line, where the one kind of affection ends, and the other begins;
the gradation from mere brotherly regard to love is so very
imperceptible, that the very persons in whom it takes place are often
unconscious of it, until accident or warning from others forces it upon
their apprehension."
"But where is the necessity of examining into these fine distinctions
now, Sir William? Where is the point of the matter."
"To that it was my purpose to come presently, but you are always so
impetuous and sanguine, if you will permit me to say so, that I have
found it difficult to discuss this matter in your presence, with all the
coolness and deliberation which ought to attend the negotiation of an
alliance between the kinsman of his majesty's representative in the
Colony, and the daughter of his nearest relative--the heiress probably
of both their fortunes."
"But has not the match between Virginia and Frank been a settled matter
for years?"
"Ay, truly, Fairfax, and I am rejoiced that you remember it; but was it
not also agreed, for wise purposes, that the parties themselves should
know nothing of the contract until Frank became of age?"
"True, and what then?"
"That time has been passed some months."
"Indeed!"
"Ay, and what is more important to the happiness of the young pair,
Frank himself has moved in the business without any prompting from me.
This, you know, was what we desired, and the very end for which the
matter was kept from their knowledge."
"He has then proposed himself to Virginia, and she has doubtless
accepted him! All right, all right, Sir William. I always told you it
would turn out just in this way. Every thing turns out for the best. You
see the advantage of leaving the young people to themselves."
"Yes, yes, it has all turned out very happily in your sanguine
imagination; but you run away with the matter without hearing me out."
"Did you not say it was all settled? I certainly understood you so!"
"No, I said nothing like it. I said that my young kinsman had moved in
the business without my prompting; and I intended to say, if you had
permitted me, that he had authorized me, this day, to make a formal
tender of his hand and fortune to your daughter, through you; which I
now do."
"Well, why did you not say so at first, Sir William, and there could
have been no trouble about the matter. Instead of that, you read me a
long lecture about the danger of harbouring handsome young fellows in my
house generally, concluding in particular, with a recapitulation of the
various debts of gratitude due from me and my family, and yourself, to
poor Bacon. But as far as I am concerned, I give my hearty consent to
the proposed union, and you may so assure Frank from me, and tell him
that he has nothing more to do, but to appear as every way worthy in the
eyes of Virginia as he does in mine."
"There, you see, you are coming in your own immethodical and precipitate
way, to the very point with which I set out. I was merely hazarding a
few observations upon the various prepossessing qualities of your
protegee, and expressing some fears of the intercourse subsisting
between him and your daughter, with a view to put you on your guard at
once. This was not done with a view to read you a lecture, as you are
pleased to say, but from the best grounded apprehensions that things
were not proceeding well for our scheme."
"Is there any ground for the fears you mention?"
"There is, Fairfax! Lady Berkley has often of late mentioned her
apprehensions to me, that there is a growing and mutual attachment
between your ward and your daughter. Frank has observed the same thing,
and indeed the very proposals I have just had the honour of making to
you, have probably resulted from a desire on his part to bring the
matter to an eclaircissement at once."
"I will speak to Virginia and her mother on the subject, and my word for
it, my daughter will show you that she knows what is due to her birth
and standing in society. But as to turning Nathaniel out of my house! I
could as soon turn Virginia herself out. Poor boy, he has a farm of his
own, it is true, but my house has always been a home to him, and it
always shall be, as long as he continues worthy, and I continue the head
of it."
"Ay, that farm! There was another ill-advised piece of generosity; not
content with bringing up a foundling like your own son, you must
purchase him a farm and stock it."
"Indeed, Governor, you give me credit for much more generosity than I
have exercised. _I_ purchased him no farm, or if I did, it was merely
as his agent and guardian. He furnished the means himself."
"That was very strange! Very strange indeed, that a youth without
occupation, and without any visible fortune, should purchase and stock
one of the most valuable plantations in the colony."
As they arrived at this point in their discourse, they had ascended to
the top of one of the highest hills within many miles of the city. Here
they found the sportsmen who had preceded them, closely grouped
together, and all talking at once, while Old Cong, (as he was familiarly
called by the youths,) was engaged in slipping the leashes. One pair
after another of the fleet animals snuffed the air for a moment, and
then bounded down the slope of the hill, carrying their noses close to
the earth, and eagerly questing backward and forward through the
shrubbery; sometimes retracing their steps to the very point from which
they started.
At length one of the foremost of the pack opened a shrill note as he
ran, indicative to the uninitiated, only of eagerness and impatience in
the pursuit of the game, but Old Congo's experienced eye instantly
brightened up, as with head erect, he uttered a sharp shrill whoop, and
mounting his fleet courser, he shot down the hill with the fleetness of
the wind, making the woods echo with his merry _hip halloo_, as he
cheered them on. By this time the pack were following the leader in the
devious trail on which he was now warm; the whole chorus sometimes
opening in joyous and eager concert as they came upon the scent, just
from the impress of sly Reynard's feet, and then again relapsing into
silence. These intervals in the cheerful cry announced the doubt which
as yet existed, whether the trail upon which they had struck was any
thing more than the devious windings made by the game on emerging from
his den, for the purpose, as the negroes stoutly affirmed, of throwing
his pursuers out. It seemed indeed as if such had been the intention of
the cunning animal, for a plan of the intricate mazes which the pack
were threading, if laid down upon paper, would very much resemble a
complicated problem in Euclid, or the track of a ship upon a voyage of
discovery in unknown seas. Meanwhile Old Congo was in the thickest of
them; now cursing one refractory member, and again cheering a favourite.
The Cavaliers stood in groups--one foot in the stirrup and a hand on the
pummel of the saddle, or smoothing down the curling mane of their
impatient chargers. At length the problem was solved, and the hounds
were seen coursing in a circle round the brow of the hill, a continuous
yelp from the leader, and an answering chorus from the pack, announcing
to the waiting gentry, that the game was up. They instantly mounted, and
were presently flying over the uneven ground at a speed and with a
reckless, yet skilful horsemanship, which bade defiance to all the
perils of the chase. Here one lost his cap by the limb of a tree; there
another measured his length upon the ground by the stumble of his
charger; the main party speeding apace, regardless of all, save the fox
and his pursuers.
The chase, like misfortune, is a wonderful leveller of distinctions.
Foremost in the field were the proud Sir William and the keener Fairfax;
one upon either side of Congo, whooping and yelling in unison, and all
distinctions forgotten for the moment, but the speed and bottom of their
coursers; the countenances of the three alike expressive of concentrated
eagerness in the sport. To a spectator on the summit of the hill, the
scene was not wanting in picturesque and striking features. The sun was
just peeping over the blue hills, and lifting the vapours from the
valleys beneath, in all the variegated and beauteous tints of the
rainbow, as they arose in majestic masses and encircled the summits of
the cliffs. The cool and invigorating breeze of a young summer morn, as
it was wafted through the romantic dales and glens, came loaded with the
richest sweets of forest and of flower. And when the music of the hounds
was softened in the distance to a faint harmonious swell upon the air,
the feathered tribes, luxuriant in beauty, warbled forth their richest
strains of nature's melody as they hopped from twig to twig, flashing
their brilliant colours in dazzling contrast to the pendant dew-drops
glittering in the sunbeams. On the other hand the rays fell in broad
sheets of light upon the tranquil waters of the noble Powhatan, as seen
through the deep green foliage of the woodland vista. The city too was
dimly visible in the distance, its towering columns of smoke shooting
high up towards heaven through the clear calm air, and expanding into
fleecy waves as they were lost or scattered in the higher regions of the
atmosphere. These morning glories of a southern sunrise were, however,
lost upon our sportsmen, who now came sweeping round the base of the
hill from the opposite side, the horses covered with foam, and riders
making the welkin ring again with their shouts of gladness and
excitement. The dignity of station and of birth, affairs of state, and
all other considerations foreign to the business of the time, were
utterly forgotten and abandoned, while their late proud possessors vied
with the youngest and the humblest in seizing the pleasures of the
chase. The horses seemed in the distance as if their bodies were moving
through the air, a foot and a half nearer the ground than they were
wont, their legs nearly invisible; while their riders bent over their
necks as if impatient even of this headlong speed.
Hitherto the hounds as usual, when in pursuit of the fox, had moved in
the figure of a rude circle, never departing to any great distance from
the point whence they had started, but moving round and round the hill;
and there was every appearance that the chase would be thus continued
until the game was either fairly run down, or had gained the shelter of
his hole.
In the present instance, however, an unexpected reprieve was granted to
the hard pressed animal. The dogs, as they came round the brow of the
hill for the third or fourth time, struck off abruptly from their
regular circuit; the foremost chargers were reined up and in a short
time the whole cavalcade was brought to a stand at the point where the
dogs had quitted the track.
The cause of this interruption to the sport was readily understood by
the experienced Cavaliers. A buck had crossed between the dogs and the
fox, and the former, contrary to their usual discipline and stanchness,
broke off to follow the newest scent. Many were the imprecations hurled
at the head of Old Congo and his deputies for this misconduct of their
charge, the consequence, as was affirmed, of their having been set upon
the trail of a buck on the previous Sabbath. It was now, however, too
late to remedy the evil, as Congo's bugle itself was not sufficient to
recall the eager pack.
Firearms were immediately unslung from the shoulders of such as bore
them, and Mr. Fairfax, as the keenest sportsman, leading the way, nearly
half of the youths were quickly seen following him up the opposite hill.
Sir William Berkley and such of the company as had already been worn
out, retraced their steps to the picturesque point from which they had
set out, and which has already been described.
Here some of the footmen, retained for the purpose, speedily
constructed a rude table under an umbrageous tree, upon which was laid
out a tempting display of cold viands, wines and strong waters. Horses
were now tied to the surrounding trees, and their riders threw
themselves upon the sward to repose their wearied limbs, and regale
their longing eyes upon the good things which only awaited the return of
their comrades. This delay seemed likely, however, to prove rather
tedious to the longing appetites of the former, who had not as yet
broken their fast.
Full two hours had elapsed, and yet no token came of hounds or huntsmen.
The patience even of the formal and ceremonious Sir William began to
flag, and he forthwith ordered the bugles to sound a recall from the
highest spot in the neighbourhood. In vain the reverberating blasts
reechoed from hill to hill, and from river to cliff; in vain they,
paused to listen for the music of the hounds or an answering signal from
the keener sportsmen. After repeated trials the patience of the Governor
gave way, and having set apart a share of the provision for their
comrades, they fell upon the tempting display with knife and dagger.
Cups of horn, and silver flagons were speedily, produced, and in a short
time their absent compeers were almost forgotten in the general
destruction of cold capons, tongue and ham.
Towards the conclusion of the repast, the absent sportsmen began to drop
in singly and at intervals. The bridles of their foaming horses were
thrown to the grooms, and they fell upon the wine and fowls like
famished soldiers, after a long day's march. Then came a panting hound,
crouching beneath the legs of a horse, with his tongue hanging from his
mouth; then another, and another, until they had all obeyed the summons
of the bugle.
None of the huntsmen who had returned as yet, had been in at the death;
but it was supposed that Mr. Fairfax, the only one now missing, had been
more fortunate, as the hounds that came in last were covered with blood.
He was momentarily expected, but they listened in vain for the sound of
his horn. Old Congo was despatched over the hills to summon him with his
bugle, but he likewise returned without any tidings of the absent
Cavalier, and without having heard any answering notes to those of his
own horn. Hours were spent in waiting for him, at first occupied by the
younger Cavaliers in various games and athletic sports, but as the day
waned apace, and still no news of him arrived, uneasiness began to
engross the minds of his associates.
By the orders of the Governor, the whole Cavalcade spread themselves,
and scoured the forests for miles in the direction he had been seen to
take, but no answer was returned to their shouts and bugles, and no
token of his presence and safety was discovered. Occasionally two
parties were brought together by a supposed answer from his bugle, but
it was found to be only the reply of one scouring party to another.
After a long and fruitless search, they resolved to hasten to the city,
in hopes that he had reached his home by some other route, and in case
this supposition should prove fallacious it was resolved that the whole
male population should be called out to the search. The distance was
accomplished with a speed and recklessness quite equal to that with
which they had performed it in the morning, but with feelings very
different. A general and gloomy silence pervaded their ranks. Gideon
Fairfax was one of the most universally popular Cavaliers in the Colony;
he was generous, hospitable, and sincere, with his equals, and humane
and affable to his inferiors. His own slaves idolized him, and would
have readily perilled life and limb in defence either of his person or
his reputation.
When, the cavalcade arrived at the bridge, their painful suspense and
anxiety were little relieved by perceiving an immense crowd assembled
round the house of Mr. Fairfax. That some accident must have befallen
him they had too good reason now to apprehend, else what could have
drawn the multitude together? The arrival of a successful huntsman, was
an affair of too frequent occurrence at Jamestown to excite the present
visible commotion. The returning and anxious Cavaliers were soon met by
the eager throng, who pressed around them in crowds, each party
demanding of the other news respecting their absent fellow-citizen.
The assemblage of the crowd around the house was soon explained by the
appearance of his favourite charger, upon which he had set out in the
morning, so full of health, vigour and animation. He was held in the
midst of the assemblage, his head-gear broken, the saddle bloody, and
his sides dripping with mud and water, as if he had just crossed through
the river. In this condition he had presented himself at the stable door
where he was usually kept, without his rider, and this was all they knew
in the city concerning the fate of the missing horseman. This was enough
to excite the most distracting fears in the minds of his own family, and
the worst apprehensions, in those of his immediate friends and more
humble admirers.
Horses and men were speedily volunteered for the purpose of scouring the
whole forest in the direction of the chase. Many of the Cavaliers barely
dismounted from one horse to mount another; and in a very few minutes,
hundreds of citizens, some on horseback and others on foot, had
assembled. While they were thus speedily collecting their forces, a
scream from some washerwomen on the bank of the river, quickly drew the
crowd in that direction. Men, women and children rushed to the spot with
feelings of anxiety and alarm, wrought to the highest pitch. They were
not left long in doubt, for a boat was just nearing the shore, in which
were two men rowing, while another supported upon his lap the head of
the still living but wounded Cavalier.