“I question'd Love, whose early ray
So heavenly bright appears;
And love, in answer, seem'd to say,
His light was dimm'd by tears.”
HEBER.
It was not long after the explanation occurred, as respects Jason, and the
invitation was given to include him in our party, before Herman Mordaunt
opened a gate, and led the way into the fields. A very tolerable road
conducted us through some woods, to the heights, and we soon found
ourselves on an eminence, that overlooked a long reach of the Hudson,
extending from Haverstraw, to the north, as far as Staten Island, to the
south; a distance of near forty miles. On the opposite shore, rose the
wall-like barrier of the Palisadoes, lifting the table-land, on their
summits, to an elevation of several hundred feet. The noble river, itself,
fully three-quarters of a mile in width, was unruffled by a breath of air,
lying in one single, extended, placid sheet, under the rays of a bright
sun, resembling molten silver. I scarce remember a lovelier morning;
everything appearing to harmonize with the glorious but tranquil grandeur
of the view, and the rich promises of a bountiful nature. The trees were
mostly covered with the beautiful clothing of a young verdure; the birds
had mated, and were building in nearly every tree; the wild-flowers started
up beneath the hoofs of our horses; and every object, far and near, seemed,
to my young eyes, to be attuned to harmony and love.
“This is a favourite ride of mine, in which Anneke often accompanies
me,” said Herman Mordaunt, as we gained the commanding eminence I have
mentioned. “My daughter is a spirited horse-woman, and is often my
companion in these morning rides. She and Mary Wallace should be somewhere
on the hills, at this moment, for they promised to follow me, as soon as
they could dress for the saddle.”
A cry of something like wild delight burst out of Dirck, and the next
moment he was galloping away for an adjoining ridge, on the top of which
the beautiful forms of the two girls were just then visible; embellished by
neatly-fitting habits, and beavers with drooping feathers. I pointed out
these charming objects to Herman Mordaunt, and followed my friend, at
half-speed. In a minute or two the parties had joined.
Never had I seen Anneke Mordaunt so perfectly lovely, as she appeared that
morning. The exercise and air had deepened a bloom that was always rich;
and her eyes received new lustre from the glow on her cheeks. Though
expected, I thought she received us as particularly acceptable guests;
while Mary Wallace manifested more than an usual degree of animation, in
her reception. Jason was not forgotten, but was acknowledged as an old
acquaintance, and was properly introduced to the friend.
“You frequently take these rides, Mr. Mordaunt tells me,” I said, reining
my horse to the side of that of Anneke's, as the whole party moved on; “and
I regret that Satanstoe is so distant, as to prevent our oftener meeting
of a morning. We have many noted horse-women, in Westchester, who would be
proud of such an acquisition.”
“I know several ladies, on your side of Harlem river” Anneke answered,
“and frequently ride in their company; but none so distant as any in your
immediate neighbourhood. My father tells me, he used often to shoot over
the fields of Satanstoe, when a youth; and still speaks of your birds with
great affection.”
“I believe our fathers were once brother-sportsmen. Mr. Bulstrode has
promised to come and imitate their good example. Now you have had time to
reflect on the plays you have seen, do you still feel the same interest in
such representations as at first?”
“I only wish there was not so much to condemn. I think Mr. Bulstrode might
have reached eminence as a player, had not fortune put it, in one sense,
beyond his reach, as an elder son, and a man of family.”
“Mr. Bulstrode, they tell me, is not only the heir of an old baronetcy, but
of a large fortune?”
“Such are the facts, I believe. Do you not think it creditable to him, Mr.
Littlepage, that one so situated, should come so far to serve his king and
country, in a rude war like this of our colonies?”
I was obliged to assent, though I heartily wished that Anneke's manner had
been less animated and sincere, as she put the question. Still, I hardly
knew what to think of her feelings towards that gentleman; for, otherwise,
she always heard him named with a calmness and self-possession that I
had observed was not shared by all her young companions, when there was
occasion to allude to the gay and insinuating soldier. I need scarcely say,
it was no disadvantage to Mr. Bulstrode to be the heir of a baronetcy, in
an English colony. Somehow or other, we are a little apt to magnify such
accidental superiority, at a distance from home; and I _have_ heard
Englishmen, themselves, acknowledge that a baronet was a greater man, in
New York, than a duke was in London. These were things, that passed through
my mind, as I rode along at Anneke's side; though I had the discretion not
to give utterance of my thoughts.
“Herman Mordaunt rode in advance, with Jason; and he led the party, by
pretty bridle-paths, along the heights for nearly two miles, occasionally
opening a gate, without dismounting, until he reached a point that
overlooked Lilacsbush, which was soon seen, distant from us less than half
a mile.
“Here we are, on my own domain,” he said, as he pulled up to let us join
him; “that last gate separating me from my nearest neighbour south. These
hills are of no great use, except as early pastures, though they afford
many beautiful views.”
“I have heard it predicted,” I remarked, “that the time would come, some
day, when the banks of the Hudson would contain many such seats as that of
the Philipses, at Yonkers, and one or two more like it, that I am told are
now standing above the Highlands.”
“Quite possibly; it is not easy to foretell what may come to pass in such a
country. I dare say, that in time, both towns and seats will be seen on the
banks of the Hudson, and a powerful and numerous nobility to occupy the
last. By the way, Mr. Littlepage, your father and my friend Col. Follock
have been making a valuable acquisition in lands, I hear; having obtained a
patent for an extensive estate, somewhere in the neighbourhood of Albany?”
“It is not so very extensive, sir, there being only some forty thousand
acres of it, altogether; nor is it very near Albany, by what I can learn,
since it must lie at a distance of some forty miles, or more, from that
town. Next winter, however, Dirck and myself are to go in search of the
land, when we shall learn all about it.”
“Then we may meet in that quarter of the country. I have affairs of
importance at Albany, which have been too long neglected; and it has been
my intention to pass some months at the north, next season; and early in
the season, too. We may possibly meet in the woods.”
“You have been at Albany, I suppose, Mr. Mordaunt?”
“Quite often, sir; the distance is so great, that one has not much
inducement to go there, unless carried by affairs, however, as has been my
case. I was at Albany before my marriage, and have had various occasions to
visit it since.”
“My father was there, when a soldier; and he tells me it is a part of the
province well worth seeing. At all events, I shall encounter the risk and
fatigue next season; for it is useful to young persons to see the world.
Dirck and myself may make the campaign, should there be one in that
direction.”
I fancied Anneke manifested some interest in this conversation; but we rode
on, and soon alighted at the door of Lilacsbush. Bulstrode was not in the
way, and I had the supreme pleasure of helping Miss Mordaunt to alight,
when we paused a moment before entering the house, to examine the view. I
have given the reader some idea of the general appearance of the place; but
it was necessary to approach it, in order to form a just conception of its
beauties. As its name indicated, the lawn, house, and out-buildings were
all garnished or buried in lilacs, the whole of which were then in full
blossom. The flowers filled the air with a species of purple light, that
cast a warm and soft radiance even on the glowing face of Anneke, as she
pointed out to me the magical effect. I know no flower that does so much
to embellish a place, as the lilac, on a large scale, common as it is, and
familiar as we have become with its hues and its fragrance.
“We enjoy the month our lilacs are out, beyond any month in the year,” said
Anneke, smiling at my surprise and delight; “and we make it a point to pass
most of it here. You will at least own, Mr. Littlepage, that Lilacsbush is
properly named.”
“The effect is more like enchantment than anything else!” I cried. “I
did not know that the simple, modest lilac could render anything so very
beautiful!”
“Simplicity and modesty are such charms in themselves, sir, as to be potent
allies,” observed the sensible but taciturn Mary Wallace.
To this I assented, of course, and we all followed Mr. Mordaunt into
the house. I was as much delighted with the appearance of things in the
interior of Lilacsbush, as I had been with the exterior. Everywhere, it
seemed to me, I met with the signs of Anneke's taste and skill. I do not
wish the reader to suppose that the residence itself was of the very first
character and class, for this it could not lay claim to be. Still, it was
one of those staid, story-and-a-half dwellings, in which most of our
first families were, and are content to dwell, in the country; very much
resembling the good old habitation at Satanstoe in these particulars. The
furniture, however, was of a higher town-finish than we found it necessary
to use; and the little parlour in which we breakfasted was a model for an
eating-room. The buffets in the corners were so well polished that one
might see his face in them; the cellarets were ornamented with plated
hinges, locks, etc., and the table itself shone like a mirror. I know not
how it was, but the china appeared to me richer and neater than common
under Anneke's pretty little hand; while the massive and highly-finished
plate of the breakfast service, was such as could be wrought only in
England. In a word, while everything appeared rich and respectable, there
was a certain indescribable air of comfort, gentility, and neatness about
the whole, that impressed me in an unusual manner.
“Mr. Littlepage tells me, Anneke,” observed Herman Mordaunt, while we were
at breakfast, “that he intends to make a journey to the north, next winter,
and it may be our good fortune to meet him there. The ----th expects to be
ordered up as high as Albany, this summer; and we may all renew our songs
and jests, with Bulstrode and his gay companions, among the Dutchmen.”
I was charmed with this prospect of meeting Anneke Mordaunt at the north,
and took occasion to say as much; though I was afraid it was in an awkward
and confused manner.
“I heard as much as this, sir, while we were riding,” answered the
daughter. “I hope cousin Dirck is to be of the party?”
Cousin Dirck assured her he was, and we discussed in anticipation the
pleasure it must give to old acquaintances to meet so far from home. Not
one of us, Herman Mordaunt excepted, had ever been one hundred miles from
his or her birth-place, as was ascertained on comparing notes. I was the
greatest traveller; Princeton lying between eighty and ninety miles from
Satanstoe, as the road goes.
“Perhaps I come nearer to it than any of you,” put in Jason, “for my late
journey on the island must have carried me nearly that far from Danbury.
But, ladies, I can assure you, a traveller has many opportunities for
learning useful things, as I know by the difference there is between York
and Connecticut.”
“And which do you prefer, Mr. Newcome?” asked Anneke, with a somewhat
comical expression about her laughing eyes.
“That is hardly a fair question, Miss;” no reproof could break Jason of
this vulgarism, “since it might make enemies for a body to speak all of his
mind in such matters. There are comparisons that should never be made, on
account of circumstances that overrule all common efforts. New York is
a great colony--a very great colony, Miss; but it was once Dutch, as
everybody knows, begging Mr. Follock's pardon; and it must be confessed
Connecticut has, from the first, enjoyed almost unheard-of advantages, in
the moral and religious character of her people, the excellence of her
lands, and the purity”--Jason called this word “poority;” but that did not
alter the sentiment--though I must say, once for all, it is out of my power
to spell every word as this man saw fit to pronounce it--“of her people and
church.”
Herman Mordaunt looked up with surprise, at this speech; but Dirck and
I had heard so many like it, that we saw nothing out of the way on this
particular occasion. As for the ladies, they were too well-bred to glance
at each other, as girls sometimes will; but I could see that each thought
the speaker a very singular person.
“You find, then, a difference in customs between the two colonies, sir?”
said Herman Mordaunt.
“A vast difference truly, sir. Now there was a little thing happened about
your daughter, 'Squire Mordaunt, the very first time I saw her”--the
present was the _second_ interview--“that could no more have happened
in Connecticut, than the whole of the province could be put into that
tea-cup.”
“To my daughter, Mr. Newcome!”
“Yes, sir, to your own daughter; Miss, that sits there looking as innocent
as if it had never come to pass.”
“This is so extraordinary, sir, that I must beg an explanation.”
“You may well call it extr'ornary, for extr'ornary it would be called all
over Connecticut; and I'll never give up that York, if this be a York
usage, is or can be right in such a matter, at least.”
“I entreat you to be more explicit, Mr. Newcome.”
“Why, sir, you must know, Corny, here, and I, and Dirck there, went in to
see the lion, about which no doubt you've heard so much, and Corny paid for
Miss's ticket Well, _that_ was all right enough, but----”
“Surely, Anneke, you have not forgotten to return to Mr. Littlepage the
money!”
“Listen patiently, my dear sir, and you will get the whole story, my
delinquencies and debts included, if any there are.”
“That's just what she did, Squire Mordaunt, and I maintain there is not the
man in all Connecticut that would have taken it. If ladies can't be treated
to sights, and other amusements, I should like to know who is to be so.”
Herman Mordaunt, at first, looked gravely at the speaker, but catching the
expression of our eyes he answered with the tact of a perfectly well-bred
man, as he certainly was, on all occasions that put him to the proof--
“You must overlook Miss Mordaunt's adhering to her own customs, Mr.
Newcome, on account of her youth, and her little knowledge of any world
but that immediately around her. When she has enjoyed an opportunity of
visiting Danbury, no doubt she will improve by the occasion.”
“But, Corny, sir--think of Corny's falling into such a mistake!”
“As for Mr. Littlepage, I must suppose he labours under somewhat of the
same disadvantage. We are less gallant here than you happen to be in
Connecticut; hence our inferiority. At some future day, perhaps, when
society shall have made a greater progress among us, our youths will come
to see the impropriety of permitting the fair sex to pay for anything, even
their own ribands. I have long known, sir, that you of New England claim to
treat your women better than they are treated in any other portion of the
inhabited world, and it must be owing to that circumstance hat they enjoy
the advantage of being 'treated' for nothing.”
With this concession Jason was apparently content. How much of this
provincial feeling, arising from provincial ignorance, have I seen since
that time! It is certain that our fellow-subjects of the eastern provinces
are not addicted to hiding their lights under bushels, but make the most
of all their advantages. That they are superior to us of York, in some
respects, I am willing enough to allow; but there are certainly points on
which this superiority is far less apparent. As for Jason, he was entirely
satisfied with the answer of Herman Mordaunt, and often alluded to the
subject afterwards, to my prejudice, and with great self-complacency. To
be sure, it is a hard lesson to beat into the head of the self-sufficient
colonist, that his own little corner of the earth does not contain all that
is right, and just, and good, and refined.
I left Lilacsbush, that day, deeply in love. I hold it to be unmanly to
attempt to conceal it. Anneke had made a lively impression on me from the
very first, but that impression had now gone deeper than the imagination,
and had very sensibly touched the heart. Perhaps it was necessary to see
her in the retirement of the purely domestic circle, to give all her charms
their just ascendency. While in town, I had usually met her in crowds,
surrounded by admirers or other young persons of her own sex, and there was
less opportunity for viewing the influence of nature and the affections on
her manner. With Mary Wallace at her side, however, there was always one
on whom she could exhibit just enough of these feelings to bring out the
loveliness of her nature without effort or affectation. Anne Mordaunt never
spoke to her friend without a change appearing in her manner. Affection
thrilled in the tones of her voice, confidence beamed in her eye, and
esteem and respect were to be gathered from the expectation and deference
that shone in her countenance. Mary Wallace was two years the oldest, and
these years taken in connection with her character, entitled her to receive
this tribute from her nearest associate; but all these feelings flowed
spontaneously from the heart, for never was an intercourse between two of
the sex more thoroughly free from acting.
It was a proof that passion was getting the mastery over me, that I now
forgot Dirck, his obvious attachment, older claims, and possible success. I
know not how it was, or why it was, but it was certain that Herman Mordaunt
had a great regard for Dirck Van Valkenburgh. The affinity may have counted
for something, and it was possible that the father was already weighing the
advantages that might accrue from such a connection. Col. Follock had the
reputation of being rich, as riches were then counted among us; and the
young fellow himself, in addition to a fine manly figure, that was fast
developing itself into the frame of a youthful Hercules, had an excellent
temper, and a good reputation. Still, this idea never troubled me. Of Dirck
I had no fears, while Bulstrode gave me great uneasiness, from the first.
I saw all his advantages, may have even magnified them; while those of my
near and immediate friend, gave me no trouble whatever. It is possible, had
Dirck presented himself oftener, or more distinctly to my mind, a feeling
of magnanimity might have induced me to withdraw in time, and leave him
a field to which he had the earliest claim. But, after the morning at
Lilacsbush, it was too late for any such sacrifice on my part; and I rode
away from the house, at the side of my friend, as forgetful of his interest
in Anneke, as if he had never felt any. Magnanimity and I had no further
connection in relation to my pretensions to Anneke Mordaunt.
“Well,” commenced Jason, as soon as we were fairly in the saddle, “these
Mordaunts are even a notch above your folks, Corny? There was more silver
vessels in that room where we ate, than there is at this moment in all
Danbury! The extravagance amounts to waste. The old gentleman must be
desperate rich, Dirck?”
“Herman Mordaunt has a good estate, and very little of it has gone for
plate, Jason; that which you saw is old, and came either from Holland, or
England; one home, or the other.”
“Oh! Holland is no home for me, boy. Depend on it, all that plate is not
put there for nothing. If the truth could be come at, this Herman Mordaunt,
as you call him, though I do not see why you cannot call him _'Squire_
Mordaunt, like other folks, but this Mr. Mordaunt has some notion, I
conclude, to get his daughter off on one of these rich English officers, of
whom there happen to be so many in the province, just at this time. I never
saw the gentleman, but there was one Bulstrode named pretty often this
forenoon,”--Jason's morning always terminated at his usual breakfast
hour,--“and I rather conclude he will turn out to be the chap, in the long
run. Such is my calculation, and _they_ don't often fail.”
I saw a quick, surprised start in Dirck; but I felt such a twinge myself,
that there was little opportunity to inquires into the state of my friend's
feelings, at this coarse, but unexpected remark.
“Have you any particular reason, Mr. Newcome, for; venturing such an
opinion?” I asked, a little sternly.
“Come, don't let us, out here in the highway, begin to mister one another.
You are Corny, Dirck is Dirck, and I am Jason. The shortest way is commonly
the best way, and I like given-names among friends. Have I any particular
reason?--Yes; plenty on 'em, and them that's good. In the first place, no
man has a daughter,”--darter à la Jason,--“that he does not begin to think
of setting her out in the world, accordin' to his abilities; then, as
I said before, these folks from home” (hum) “are awful rich, and rich
husbands are always satisfactory to parents, whatever they may be to
children. Besides, some of these officers will fall heirs to titles, and
that is a desperate temptation to a woman, all over the world. I hardly
think there is a young woman in Danbury that could hold out agin' a real
title.”
It has always struck me as singular, that the people of Jason's part of the
provinces should entertain so much profound respect for titles. No portion
of the world is of simpler habits, nor is it easier to find any civilized
people among whom there is greater equality of actual condition, which,
one would think, must necessarily induce equality of feeling, than in
Connecticut, at this very moment. Notwithstanding these facts, the love of
title is so great, that even that of serjeant is often prefixed to the name
of a man on his tombstone, or in the announcement of his death or marriage;
and as for the militia ensigns and lieutenants, there is no end to them.
Deacon is an important title, which is rarely omitted; and wo betide the
man who should forget to call a magistrate “esquire.” No such usages
prevail among us; or, if they do, it is among that portion of the people of
this colony which is derived from New England, and still retains some of
its customs. Then, in no part of the colonies is English rank more deferred
to, than in New England, generally, notwithstanding most of those colonies
possess the right to elect nearly every officer they have among them. I
allow that we of New York defer greatly to men of birth and rank from home,
and it is right we should so do; but I do not think our deference is as
great, or by any means as general, as it is in New England. It is possible
the influence of the Dutch may have left an impression on our state of
society, though I have been told that the colonies farther south exhibit
very much the same characteristics as we do, ourselves, on this head. [16]
We reached Satanstoe a little late, in consequence of the delay at
Lilacsbush, and were welcomed with affection and warmth. My excellent
mother was delighted to see me at home again, after so long an absence,
and one which she did not think altogether without peril, when it was
remembered that I had passed a whole fortnight amid the temptations and
fascinations of the capital. I saw the tears in her eyes as she kissed me,
again and again, and felt the gentle, warm embrace, as she pressed me to
her bosom, in maternal thanksgiving.
Of course, I had to render an account of all I had seen and done, including
Pinkster, the theatre, and the lion. I said nothing, however, of the
Mordaunts, until questioned about them by my mother, quite a fortnight
after Dirck had gone across to Rockland. One morning, as I sat endeavouring
to write a sonnet in my own room, that excellent parent entered and took
a seat near my table, with the familiarity the relation she bore me
justified. She was knitting at the time, for never was she idle, except
when asleep. I saw by the placid smile on her face, which, Heaven bless
her! was still smooth and handsome, that something was on her mind, that
was far from disagreeable; and I waited with some curiosity for the
opening. That excellent mother! How completely did she live out of herself
in all that had the most remote bearing on my future hopes and happiness!
“Finish your writing, my son,” commenced my mother, for I had instinctively
striven to conceal the sonnet; “finish your writing; until you have done, I
will be silent.”
“I have done, now, mother; 'twas only a copy of verses I was endeavouring
to write out--you know--that is--write out, you know.”
“I did not know you were a poet, Corny,” returned my mother, smiling still
more complacently, for it _is_ something to be the parent of a poet.
“I!--I a poet, mother?--I'd sooner turn school-master, than turn poet.
Yes, I'd sooner be Jason Newcome, himself, than even suspect it possible I
_could_ be a poet.”
“Well, never mind; people never turn poets, I fancy, with their eyes open.
But, what is this I hear of your having saved a beautiful young lady from
the jaws of a lion, while you were in town; and why was I left to learn all
the particulars from Mr. Newcome?”
I believe my face was of the colour of scarlet, for it felt as if it were
on fire, and my mother smiled still more decidedly than ever. Speak! I
could not have spoken to be thus smiled on by Anneke.
“There is nothing to be ashamed of, Corny, in rescuing a young lady from a
lion, or in going to her father's to receive the thanks of the family. The
Mordaunts are a family any one can visit with pleasure. Was the battle
between you and the beast, a very desperate conflict, my child?”
“Poh! mother:--Jason is a regular dealer in marvels, and he makes mountains
of mole-hills. In the first place, for 'jaws,' you must substitute 'paws,'
and for a 'young lady,' 'her shawl.'”
“Yes, I understand it was the shawl, but it was on her shoulders, and could
not have been disengaged time enough to save her, had you not shown so much
presence of mind and courage. As for the 'jaws,' I believe that was my
mistake, for Mr. Newcome certainly said 'claws.'”
“Well, mother, have it your own way. I was of a little service to a very
charming young woman, and she and her father were civil to me, as a matter
of course. Herman Mordaunt is a name we all know, and, as you say, his is a
family that any man may be proud of visiting, ay, and pleased too.”
“How odd it is, Corny,” added my mother, in a sort of musing, soliloquizing
way,--“you are an only child, and Anneke Mordaunt is also an only child, as
Dirck Follock has often told me.”
“Then Dirck has spoken to you frequently of Anneke, before this, mother?”
“Time and again; they are relations, you must have heard; as, indeed, you
are yourself, if you did but know it.”
“I?--I related to Anneke Mordaunt, without being too _near_?”
My dear mother smiled again, while I felt sadly ashamed of myself at the
next instant. I believe that a suspicion of the truth, as respects my
infant passion, existed in that dear parent's mind from that moment.
“Certainly related, Corny, and I will tell you how. My
great-great-grandmother, Alida van der Heyden, was a first cousin of Herman
Mordaunt's great-great-grandmother, by his mother's side, who was a Van
Kleeck. So, you see, you and Anneke are actually related.”
“Just near enough, mother, to put one at ease in their house, and not so
near as to make relationship troublesome.”
“They tell me, my child, that Anneke is a sweet creature!”
“If beauty, and modesty, and grace, and gentleness, and spirit, and sense,
and delicacy, and virtue, and piety, can make any young woman of seventeen
a sweet creature, mother, then Anneke is sweet.”
My dear mother seemed surprised at my warmth, but she smiled still more
complacently than ever. Instead of pursuing the subject, however, she saw
fit to change it, by speaking of the prospects of the season, and the many
reasons we all had for thankfulness to God. I presume, with a woman's
instinct, she had learned enough to satisfy her mind for the present.
The summer soon succeeded to the May that proved so momentous to me; and I
sought occupation in the fields. Occupation, however, would not do. Anneke
was with me, go where I would; and glad was I when Dirck, about midsummer,
in one of his periodical visits to Satanstoe, proposed that we should ride
over, and make another visit to Lilacsbush. He had written a note, to say
we should be glad to ask a dinner and beds, if it were convenient, for a
day a short distance ahead; and he waited the answer at the Neck. This
answer arrived duly by mail, and was everything we could wish. Herman
Mordaunt offered us a hearty welcome, and sent the grateful intelligence
that his daughter and Mary Wallace would both be present to receive us. I
envied Dirck the manly feeling which had induced him to take this plain and
respectable course to his object.
We went across the country, accordingly, and reached Lilacsbush several
hours before dinner. Anneke received us with a bright suffusion of the
face, and kind smiles; though I could not detect the slightest difference
in her manners to either. To both was she gracious, gentle, attentive, and
lady-like. No allusion was made to the past, except a few remarks that were
given on the subject of the theatre. The officers had continued to play
until the ----th had been ordered up the river, when Bulstrode, Billings,
Harris, virtuous Marcia, and all, had proceeded to Albany in company.
Anneke thought there was about as much to be displeased with, as there was
to please, in these representations; though her removal to the country
had prevented her seeing more than three of them all. It was admitted all
round, however, that Bulstrode played admirably; and it was even regretted
by certain persons, that he should not have been devoted to the stage.
We passed the night at Lilacsbush, and remained an hour or two after
breakfast, next morning. I had carried a warm invitation from both my
parents to Herman Mordaunt, to ride over, with the young ladies, and taste
the fish of the Sound; and the visit was returned in the course of the
month of September. My mother received Anneke as a relation; though I
believe that both Herman Mordaunt and his daughter were surprised to learn
that they came within even the wide embrace of Dutch kindred. They did not
seem displeased, however, for the family name of my mother was good, and no
one need have been ashamed of affinity to _her_, on her own account. Our
guests did not remain the night, but they left us in a sort of a chaise
that Herman Mordaunt kept for country use, about an hour before sunset. I
mounted my horse, and rode five miles with the party, on its way back,
and then took my leave of Anneke, as it turned out, for many, many weary
months.
The year 1757 was memorable in the colonies, by the progress of the war,
and as much so in New York as in any other province. Montcalm had advanced
to the head of Lake George, had taken Fort William Henry, and a fearful
massacre of the garrison had succeeded. This bold operation left the
enemy in possession of Champlain; and the strong post of Ticonderoga was
adequately garrisoned by a formidable force. A general gloom was cast over
the political affairs of the colony; and it was understood that a great
effort was to be made, the succeeding campaign, to repair the loss. Rumour
spoke of large reinforcements from home, and of greater levies in the
colonies themselves than had been hitherto attempted. Lord Loudon was to
return home, and a veteran of the name of Abercrombie was to succeed him in
the command of all the forces of the king. Regiments began to arrive from
the West Indies; and, in the course of the winter of 1757-8, we heard at
Satanstoe of the gaieties that these new forces had introduced into the
town. Among other things, a regular corps of Thespians had arrived from the
West Indies.
[Footnote 16: As respects the love of titles that are derived from the
people, there is nothing-opposed to strict republican, or if the reader
will, democratic, principles, since it is deferring to the power that
appoints, and manifests a respect for that which the community chooses to
elevate. But, the deference to _English_ rank, mentioned by Mr. Littlepage,
is undeniably greater among the mass in New England, than it is anywhere
else in this country, at this very moment. One leading New York paper,
edited by New England men, during the last controversy about the indemnity
to be paid by France, actually styled the Due de Broglie “his grace,”
like a Grub Street cockney,--a mode of address that would astonish that
respectable statesman, quite as much as it must have amused every man
of the world who saw it. I have been much puzzled to account for this
peculiarity--unquestionably one that exists in the country--but have
supposed it must be owing to the diffusion of information which carries
intelligence sufficiently far to acquaint the mass with leading social
features, without going far enough to compensate for a provincial position
and provincial habits. Perhaps the exclusively English origin of the people
may have an influence. The writer has passed portions of two seasons in
Switzerland, and, excluding the small forest cantons, he has no hesitation
in saying that the habits and general notions of Connecticut are
more inherently democratical than those of any part of that country.
Notwithstanding, he thinks a nobleman, particularly an English nobleman, is
a far greater man in New England, than he is among the real middle-state
families of New York.--EDITOR.]