THE LAST OF THE FORESTERS:
OR,
HUMORS ON THE BORDER;
A STORY OF THE
Old Virginia Frontier.
BY
JOHN ESTEN COOKE
AUTHOR OF "THE VIRGINIA COMEDIANS," "LEATHER STALKING AND SILK,"
"ELLIE," "THE YOUTH OF JEFFERSON," INC.
1856
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I.--At Apple Orchard
II.--Verty and his Companions
III.--Introduces a Legal Porcupine
IV.--How Verty thought, and played, and dreamed
V.--Winchester
VI.--In which Mr. Roundjacket flourishes his ruler
VII.--In which Mr. Roundjacket reads his great Poem
VIII.--How Verty shot a White Pigeon
IX.--Hawking without a Hawk
X.--Verty makes the acquaintance of Mr. Jinks
XI.--How Verty discovered in himself a great fondness for Apples
XII.--How Strephon talked with Chloe in an Arbor
XIII.--Verty expresses a desire to imitate Mr. Jinks
XIV.--The Thirteenth of October
XV.--The Pedlar and the Necklace
XVI.--Mr. Roundjacket makes himself agreeable
XVII.--Mr. Jinks at Home
XVIII.--How Miss Lavinia developed her Theories on Matrimony
XIX.--Only a few tears
XX.--How Miss Fanny slammed the door in Verty's face
XXI.--In which Redbud suppresses her feelings, and behaves
with decorum
XXII.--How Miss Sallianna fell in love with Verty
XXIII.--The Result
XXIV.--Of the effect of Verty's violin-playing upon Mr. Rushton
XXV.--A Young Gentleman just from William and Mary College
XXVI.--The Necklace
XXVII.--Philosophical
XXVIII.--Consequences of Miss Sallianna's passion for Verty
XXIX.--Interchange of Compliments
XXX.--What occurred at Bousch's Tavern
XXXI.--Mr. Jinks on Horseback going to take Revenge
XXXII.--An old Bible
XXXIII.--Fanny's views upon Heraldry
XXXIV.--How Miss Sallianna alluded to vipers, and fell into hysterics
XXXV.--How Miss Fanny made merry with the passion of Mr. Verty
XXXVI.--Ralph makes love to Miss Sallianna
XXXVII.--Verty states his private opinion of Miss Sallianna
XXXVIII.--How Longears showed his gallantry in Fanny's service.
XXXIX.--Up the Hill, and under the Chestnuts
XL.--Under the Greenwood Tree
XLI.--Use of Coats in a Storm
XLII.--How Mr. Jinks requested Ralph to hold him
XLIII.--Verty's heart goes away in a chariot
XLIV.--In which the History returns to Apple Orchard
XLV.--Hours in the October Woods
XLVI.--The Happy Autumn Fields
XLVII.--Days that are no more
XLVIII.--The Harvest Moon
XLIX.--Back to Winchester, where Editorial Iniquity is discoursed of
L.--How Verty discovered a Portrait, and what ensued
LI.--A Child and a Logician
LII.--How Mr. Jinks determined to spare Verty
LIII.--Projects of Revenge, involving Historical details
LIV.--Exploits of Fodder
LV.--Woman-traps laid by Mr. Jinks
LVI.--Takes Verty to Mr. Roundjacket's
LVII.--Contains an Extraordinary Disclosure
LVIII.--How Mr. Rushton proved that all men were selfish, himself
included
LIX.--The Portrait smiles
LX.--The Lodge in the Hills
LXI.--Mrs. O'Calligan's Wooers
LXII.--Verty Muses
LXIII.--How Verty and Miss Lavinia ran a-tilt at each other, and
who was overthrown
LXIV.--The Rose of Glengary
LXV.--Providence
LXVI.--The Hour and the Necklace
LXVII.--How St. Patrick encountered St. Michael, and what
ensued
LXVIII.--The End of the Chain
LXIX.--Conclusion
PREFACE
Perhaps this story scarcely needs a Preface, but the child of the
writer's invention comes to possess a place in his affections, and he
is reluctant to send it forth into the wide world, without something
in the nature of a letter of introduction, asking for it a kindly and
charitable reception. It would be unjust to apply to this volume the
tests which are brought to bear upon an elaborate romance. In his
narrative of the adventures of Verty and Redbud, the writer has not
endeavored to mount into the regions of tragedy, or chronicle the
details of bloodshed on the part of heroes--but rather, to find in a
picturesque land and period such traits of life and manners as are
calculated to afford innocent entertainment. Written under the
beautiful autumn skies of our beloved Virginia, the author would
ask for the work only a mind in unison with the mood of the
narrative--asking the reader to laugh, if he can, and, above all, to
carry with him, if possible, the beautiful autumn sunshine, and the
glories of the mountains.
Of the fine old border town, in which many of the scenes of the story
are laid, much might be said, if it were here necessary, that Thomas
Lord Fairfax, Baron of Cameron, and formerly half-owner of Virginia,
sleeps there--that Morgan, the Ney of the Revolution, after all his
battles, lies there, too, as though to show how nobles and commoners,
lords and frontiersmen, monarchists and republicans, are equal
in death--and that the last stones of old Fort Loudoun, built by
Lieutenant, afterwards General, Washington, crumble into dust there,
disappearing like a thousand other memorials of that noble period, and
the giants who illustrated it:--this, and much more, might be said of
Winchester, the old heart of the border, which felt every blow, and
poured out her blood freely in behalf of the frontier. But of the land
in which this old sentinel stands it is impossible to speak in terms
of adequate justice. No words can describe the loveliness of its fair
fields, and vainly has the present writer tried to catch the spirit of
those splendid pictures, which the valley unrolls in autumn days. The
morning splendors and magnificent sunsets--the noble river and blue
battlements, forever escape him. It is in the midst of these scenes
that he has endeavored to place a young hunter--a child of the
woods--and to show how his wild nature was impressed by the new life
and advancing civilization around him. The process of his mental
development is the chief aim of the book.
Of the other personages of the story it is not necessary here to
speak--they will relieve the author of that trouble; yet he cannot
refrain from asking in advance a friendly consideration for Miss
Redbud. He trusts that her simplicity and innocence will gain for
her the hearts of all who admire those qualities; and that in
consideration of her liking for her friend Verty, that these friends
of her own will bestow a portion of their approbation upon the young
woodman: pity him when he incurs the displeasure of Mr., Jinks:
sympathise with him when he is overwhelmed by the reproaches of
Mr. Roundjacket, and rejoice with him when, in accordance with the
strictest rules of poetic justice, he is rewarded for his kindness and
honesty by the possession of the two things which he coveted the most
in the world.
RICHMOND, _June_, 1856.
THE LAST OF THE FORESTERS.
"_If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, (and all is mended,)
That you have but slumbered here
While these visions did appear;
And this weak and idle theme
No more yielding than a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend_."
MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM.
THE LAST OF THE FORESTERS,
CHAPTER I.
AT APPLE ORCHARD.
On a bright October morning, when the last century was rapidly going
down hill, and all old things began to give way to the new, the sun
was shining in upon the breakfast room at Apple Orchard with a joyous
splendor, which, perhaps, he had never before displayed in tarrying at
that domain, or any other.
But, about Apple Orchard, which we have introduced to the reader in
a manner somewhat abrupt and unceremonious. It was one of those old
wooden houses, which dot our valleys in Virginia almost at every
turn--contented with their absence from the gay flashing world of
cities, and raising proudly their moss-covered roofs between the
branches of wide spreading oaks, and haughty pines, and locusts,
burdening the air with perfume. Apple Orchard had about it an
indefinable air of moral happiness and domestic comfort. It seemed
full of memories, too; and you would have said that innumerable
weddings and christenings had taken place there, time out of
mind, leaving their influence on the old homestead, on its very
dormer-windows, and porch trellis-work, and clambering vines, and even
on the flags before the door, worn by the feet of children and slow
grandfathers.
Within, everything was quite as old-fashioned; over the mantel-piece
a portrait, ruffled and powdered, hung; in the corner a huge clock
ticked; by the window stood a japanned cabinet; and more than one
china ornament, in deplorably grotesque taste, spoke of the olden
time.
This is all we can say of the abode of Mr. Adam Summers, better known
as Squire Summers, except that we may add, that Apple Orchard was
situated not very far from Winchester, and thus looked upon the beauty
of that lovely valley which poor Virginia exiles sigh for, often, far
away from it in other lands.
The sun shines for some time upon the well-ordered room, wherein the
breakfast-table is set forth, and in whose wide country fire-place
a handful of twigs dispel with the flame which wraps them the cool
bracing air of morning; then the door opens, and a lady of some thirty
autumns, with long raven curls and severe aspect, enters, sailing
in awful state, and heralded by music, from the rattling keys which
agitate themselves in the basket on her arm, drowning the rustle
of her dress. This is Miss Lavinia, the Squire's cousin, who has
continued to live with him since the death of his wife, some years
since.
The severe lady is superintending the movements of the brisk negro
boy who attends to breakfast, when the Squire himself, a fat, rosy,
good-humored old gentleman, in short breeches and ruffles, makes his
appearance, rubbing his hands and laughing.
Then, behind him, rosier than her father, dewy like the morning, and
angelic generally, behold our little heroine--Miss Redbud Summers.
Redbud--she received this pretty name when she was a baby, and as
usually befalls Virginia maidens, never has been able to get rid of
it. Redbud is a lovely little creature, whom it is a delight to look
upon. She has a profusion of light, curling hair, a fine fresh, tender
complexion, deep, mild eyes, and a mouth of that innocent and artless
expression which characterizes childhood. She is about sixteen,
and has just emerged from short dresses, by particular request and
gracious permission from Miss Lavinia, who is major-domo and manager
in general. Redbud is, therefore, clad in the morning-dress of young
ladies of the period. Her sleeves are ornamented with fluttering
ribbons, and her hair is brushed back in the fashion now styled
_Pompadour_, but quite unpowdered. Her ears, for even heroines are
possessed of them, are weighed down by heavy golden ear-rings, and a
cloud of plain lace runs round her neck, and gently rubs her throat.
Pensiveness and laughter chase each other over her fresh little face,
like floating clouds;--she is a true child of the South.
The Squire sits down in the large chair, in the corner of the
fire-place, and takes Miss Redbud on his knee. Then commences a
prattle on the part of the young lady, interrupted by much laughter
from the old gentleman; then the Squire swears profanely at indolent
Caesar, his spaniel, who, lying on the rug before the fire, stretches
his hind feet sleepily, and so makes an assault upon his master's
stockings; then breakfast is ready, and grace being devoutly said,
they all sit down, and do that justice to the meal which Virginians
never omit. Redbud is the soul of the room, however, and even insists
upon a romp with the old gentleman, as he goes forth to mount his
horse.
The Squire thus disappears toward the barn. Miss Lavinia superintends
the household operation of "washing up the tea things," and Redbud
puts on her sun-bonnet, and goes to take a stroll.