season it had been, was yet cheerful. The presence of Lord Fairfax and
George, of Madam Washington and Betty, revived the spirits of the master
and mistress. William Fairfax, now a handsome young man of eighteen, and
the same mild, manly, good-natured fellow, was home from Williamsburg
for the holidays. George had never been to Williamsburg, where there was
a viceregal court, and where everything was conducted upon a scale
adapted to a representative of royalty. He was much impressed by
William's description, and they made many plans for a holiday together,
the next winter, in the capital.
"And we will attend the Governor's levee--but you must not be too much
of a republican, George, for the Governor exacts viceregal respect--and
the assemblies in the great Apollo Room at the Raleigh Tavern, and the
lectures at the college by learned men from England and Scotland. Ah,
George, how you will enjoy it!" cried William.
Lord Fairfax, hearing the young men talk, felt a desire to revisit
Williamsburg, a place where he had spent some happy days, and soon after
this conversation, when William had already returned to college, he
said, one day:
"I think, George, if your brother can spare you towards the spring, I
should like to have you visit Williamsburg with me. It is now twelve
years since I was there, in the administration of my Lord Botetourt. He
exacted every mark of respect that would have been paid to the King
himself. I well remember his going in state to open the House of
Burgesses, as the King opens Parliament. He rode in a gilt coach, given
him by the King himself, drawn by eight milk-white horses--a very fine
show; but for all their love of finery and display themselves, the
Virginians are very jealous of any on the part of their rulers, and many
gentlemen who drove coaches and four themselves complained bitterly of
the Governor."
George was charmed at the prospect, and took the first opportunity of
broaching the subject to Laurence.
"I think it would be very advantageous to you to see something of a
viceregal court, and I will see that you have the means to make a good
appearance," was Laurence's kind reply.
"Thank you, brother," said George, gratefully. "I will have things on
the place in such order that everything will go on as if I were here;
and as I shall come back for some weeks before returning to the
mountains, I can see whether my orders have been carried out or not."
Another summer's work would finish all the surveys Lord Fairfax wished,
and it was understood that at the end of that time George was to live
permanently at Mount Vernon in charge of the estate.
Madam Washington was delighted at the idea of George's advent at the
provincial court under such auspices, and Betty danced for joy, and
immediately plunged into a discussion of George's wardrobe for the great
event.
"Timothy Jones, the tailor in Alexandria, has some fine green cloth, out
of which he could make you a surtout trimmed with silver, and I saw
myself an elegant piece of scarlet velvet from which a mantle to wear to
court might be made. And you shall have my best Mechlin lace for your
cravat. Ah, George, how I long to see you in your fine clothes!"
"I should think, Betty," replied George, smiling, "you would be more
concerned about how I will conduct myself with these great people. You
know, sometimes I lose my speech entirely, and become very awkward; and
sometimes I become abstracted in company; and nobody's manners are
perfect at eighteen."
"Dear George," cried Betty, throwing her arms around his neck, "I think
of your clothes because that is all that I need think about with you. In
every other way you are sure to do us credit;" which made George feel
that Betty was the most good-natured creature alive.
"I wish you were going," said he, presently.
"I wish so too," replied Betty. "But when brother Laurence gets well
sister Anne has promised to take me, and my mother has said I may go,"
for both George and Betty, with the optimism of youth, thought it quite
certain that their brother would one day be well.
The first day of February the start was made. The grand equipage set
forth, with the Earl and George on the back seat of the coach and Lance
on the box. Billy rode George's horse, and was in ecstasies at the
prospect of such an expedition. On the second day, in the evening, the
coach rolled into Williamsburg. It was a lovely February evening, and
the watchman was going about lighting lanterns hung to tall poles at the
street corners. George had chosen to make the last stage with the Earl,
and was deeply interested in all he saw. The town was as straggling as
Alexandria or as Fredericksburg, but there was that unmistakable air of
a capital which the presence of the seat of government always gives. As
they drove rapidly, and with great clatter, down Duke of Gloucester
Street, George noticed many gentlemen in both naval and military
uniforms, and others in the unpowdered wig of the scholar, which last he
inferred were professors and tutors at the college. Of collegians there
were not a few, and George noticed they always appeared in gangs, and
seemed to regard themselves as quite aloof from other persons, and
slightly superior to them. As the coach drove quickly through the Palace
Green, with the palace on one hand and the college on the other, both
were brilliantly lighted. A couple of sentries in red coats marched up
and down before the palace--a long, rambling brick building, with its
two generous wings, and its great court-yard with fine iron gates. On
its top was a cupola, which was only lighted up on gala nights. On both
sides of the palace were spacious gardens, with a straight canal,
bordered with cedars, cut in the stiff, artificial manner of the time,
and with small summer-houses, in the form of Greek temples, made of
stucco. A coach was driving out and another was driving in, while an
officer, evidently an aide-de-camp, picked his way along the gravelled
path that led to the side where the offices were. Opposite the palace
towered the plain but substantial brick buildings of William and Mary
College, and a crowd of students were going into the common hall for
supper. It all seemed very grand to George's eyes, and when they
alighted at the Raleigh Tavern, the tavern-keeper, wearing silk
stockings and carrying two silver candlesticks, came out to meet them,
and ushered them into a handsome private room ornamented over the mantel
by a print of his Majesty King George the Second. The tavern-keeper was
not by any means like the sturdy citizens who kept houses of
entertainment between Fredericksburg and the mountains. He "my lorded"
the Earl at every turn, and was evidently used to fine company. He was
happy to say that he was then entertaining Sir John Peyton, of
Gloucester, who had come to Williamsburg for the winter season, and
Colonel Byrd, of Westover. Also the Honorable John Tyler, marshal of the
colony, was attending the Governor's council upon matters of importance,
and was occupying the second-best rooms in the tavern--my lord having
the best, of course, according to his rank. The Earl was a little
wearied with all this, but bore with it civilly until the tavern-keeper
bowed himself out, when William Fairfax burst in, delighted to see them.
William was neither so tall nor so handsome as George, but he was
overflowing with health and spirits.
"The Governor heard you were coming, sir," cried William, "and stopped
his coach in the street yesterday to ask me when you would arrive. I
told him you had probably started, if my advices were correct, and that
you would be accompanied by Mr. George Washington, brother of Mr.
Laurence Washington, now of Mount Vernon, but late of the royal army. He
said he much desired to meet Mr. Washington's brother--for to tell you
the truth, my lord, the Governor loves rank and wealth in his provincial
subjects--and, meaning to speak well for George, I told him a great deal
of Mr. Laurence Washington's lands and other wealth, and he smiled, or
rather gaped, just like a great sheep's-head at a bait."
"William, you should be respectful of dignitaries," was the Earl's
reply, although he smiled, while George laughed outright at William's
artful working upon the Governor's weakness.
As soon as supper was over came a thundering knock upon the door, and
the host ushered in Sir John Peyton, of Gloucester, a colonial dandy,
whose pride it was that he had the handsomest foot and leg in the
colony. Sir John was very elegantly dressed, and carried upon his left
arm a muff, which effeminate fashion he had brought from England on his
last visit.
"Ah, my Lord Fairfax! Most happy to meet you," cried Sir John,
affectedly. "'Tis most unkind of you to pitch your tent in the
wilderness, instead of gracing the viceregal court, where gentlemen of
rank and wealth are sadly needed."
"Having experienced the hollowness of a regal court, Sir John, I can
withstand all the attractions of any other," was Lord Fairfax's quiet
and rather sarcastic reply.
Sir John, not at all disconcerted, helped himself with a jewelled hand
from a gold snuff-box, and then, leaning against the mantel, put his
hands in his muff.
"By all the loves of Venus, my lord, you and your young friend Mr.
Washington should see some of the beautiful young ladies here. There is
Mistress Martha Dandridge--odd's life! if I were not pledged to die a
bachelor I should sue for that fair maid's hand; and Lady Christine
Blair--born Stewart, who met and married Mr. Blair in Edinburgh--a dull,
psalm-singing town it is. Lady Christine, having great beauty, illumines
the college where her husband is Professor. And the lovely, the divine
Evelyn Byrd, and Mistress Tyler, who is one of those French Huguenots,
and has a most bewitching French accent--all ladies worthy of your
lordship's admiration."
"No doubt," replied the Earl, gravely, but inwardly tickled at Sir
John's ineffable impudence, "they would but slightly value the
admiration of an ancient recluse like myself, and would prefer my young
friends Mr. Washington and Mr. Fairfax."
Sir John, quite unabashed, now turned to the two young men, who had
great difficulty in keeping their faces straight when they looked at
him.
"Really, Mr. Washington, you must get a muff if you wish to be
comfortable in this cursed climate. I never knew comfort till I got one
in England, on the recommendation of Mr. Horace Walpole, who has the
divinest taste in muffs and china I ever saw."
"I am afraid I cannot find one of a size for my hand," answered George,
gravely, holding out a well-shaped but undeniably large hand.
After much more talk about Mr. Horace Walpole, the lovely Misses Berry,
and the company of comedians daily expected from London, Sir John took
his leave, promising to see them at the Governor's levee next day. As
soon as the door closed upon him Lord Fairfax turned to William, and
said, testily, "I hoped I had left all such popinjays as Sir John Peyton
at court in England, but here I find the breed flourishing."
"Sir John is not half so absurd as he looks, sir," answered William,
laughing. "He is as brave as a lion; and when on his last voyage home
there was a fire in the ship's cargo, I hear he was the coolest man on
board, and by his conceits and quips and jests in the face of danger
kept off a panic. And he is honorable and truthful, and he really has
much sense."
"Then," cried the Earl, "he does all he can to disguise it."
Their next visitors were Colonel Byrd, of Westover, and Mr. Tyler,
marshal of the colony, who ranked next the Governor, and Mr. Randolph,
Speaker of the House of Burgesses. The Earl received these gentlemen
with marked respect, placed chairs for them himself, and entered into a
long and interesting conversation with them on the state of the colony.
Both George and William remained modestly silent, as became young men of
their age, and listened attentively. It was agreed among them all that
war with the French was practically certain. The colonies were
thoroughly aroused, and each of the visitors gave it as his opinion
that the colonies were willing to settle the question themselves without
aid from the home government.
"And when the conflict comes," remarked Colonel Byrd, turning to the two
young men, "it is to young gentlemen such as these that we must look for
our safety, because, you may be sure, if the French capture our
outposts, they will not be satisfied until they overrun our whole
lowland country, and they must be checked at the mountains if they are
to be checked at all."
"My young friend Mr. Washington knows all about matters on the frontier,
as he has surveyed my lands across the Alleghanies for two summers, and
is quite as familiar with the temper of the Indians as with the face of
the country," remarked the Earl.
This at once made George an object of interest to them all, and he was
closely questioned. He answered everything that was asked him with such
intelligence and pith that his new acquaintances formed a high idea of
his sense. He often referred to William Fairfax, who had been with him
the first summer, and William made also a fine impression. They sat
until midnight, talking, and Lance had to renew the fire and the candles
twice before the company parted.
Next morning William came betimes and burst into George's room while
that young gentleman was still in bed.
"Get up, man!" cried William, shaking him. "Here you lie sleeping like a
log, when you ought to be having your breakfast and making ready to see
the town."
George needed no second invitation, and in a very short time was making
play with his breakfast in the sitting-room reserved for Lord Fairfax.
The Earl was there himself, and the delightful anticipations of George
and William, which were fully shared by Lance and Billy, brought a smile
to his usually grave face.
Lance was simply beaming. A number of his old regiment were enrolled
among the Governor's body-guard, and the sight of a redcoat did him, as
he said, "a world of good." As for Billy, he had reached the state of
_nil admirari_, and was determined to be surprised at nothing. On the
contrary, when the tavern servants had assumed that he was a country
servant, Billy had completely turned the tables on them. Nothing in the
Raleigh Tavern was good enough for him. He pished and pshawed in the
most approved style, treated Colonel Byrd's and Marshal Tyler's servants
with infinite scorn, and declined to be patronized even by Sir John
Peyton's own man, who had been to London. He called them all "cornfiel'
han's," and, as the way generally is, he was taken at his own valuation,
and reigned monarch of all he surveyed in the kitchen, where he gave
more trouble than Lord Fairfax himself. However, one person could bring
Billy down with neatness and despatch. This was Lance, who, although
belonging to a class of white people that Billy despised, was yet
capable of reporting him to "Marse George," so Billy was wary when Lance
was around.
At three o'clock the coach came, and the Earl and George set forth with
outriders to attend the Governor's levee. It was the first time George
had ever seen the Earl in court dress. He wore a splendid suit of
plum-colored satin, with ruby and diamond shoebuckles, with his
diamond-hilted sword, and a powdered wig. George, too, was very
elegantly dressed, and as they drove up to the palace, amid a crowd of
coaches and chaises of all sorts, and dismounted, there were not two
such distinguished-looking persons there. George felt decidedly
flurried, although he had ample self-possession to disguise it.
They were met by the Governor's guard in the great entrance-hall, who
passed them on to an anteroom, where half a dozen lackeys in gorgeous
liveries bowed to the ground before them. A great pair of folding-doors
led into the audience-chamber, and at a signal from within the doors
were thrown wide, and they entered.
The room was large but low, and had on each side a row of mullioned
windows. It was crowded with company, but a lane was at once made for
the Earl and George, who advanced towards a dais covered with scarlet
cloth at one end of the room, where Governor Dinwiddie stood, in a
splendid court dress; for the Governors of Virginia assumed to be
viceroys, and everything at the provincial court was copied, as far as
possible, from the same thing at the Court of St. James. Ranged around
the dais were the wife and daughters of the Governor with several
ladies-in-waiting, also in court dresses with trains.
As the Earl and George made their reverences they attracted much
attention; and when George stood back, silent and awaiting his turn
while the Governor conversed with the Earl, there was a murmur of
admiration for him. He was so manly, so graceful, his figure was set off
with so incomparable an air of elegance, that other men appeared
commonplace beside him. He seemed from his ease and grace to have spent
his life at courts, while, in truth, he had never seen anything half so
fine before.
The Governor, having finished his conversation with the Earl, motioned
to George, who advanced as the Earl backed off, it being inadmissible to
turn one's back on the Governor.
The first question asked by Governor Dinwiddie was,
"My Lord Fairfax tells me, Mr. Washington, that you have explored much
in the Northwest?"
"I have, your Excellency."
"I should very much like at your leisure to have an account of affairs
in that region."
"Your Excellency may command me."
"And I shall meanwhile have pleasure in presenting you to Madam
Dinwiddie and my daughters Mistress Eleanor and Mistress Katharine."
Madam Dinwiddie, a comely dame, and the two young ladies courtesied low
to the handsome young man presented to them, and Madam Dinwiddie said,
"I hope, Mr. Washington, that we may see you at the ball to-night."
"I have promised myself that honor, madam," replied George.
With the Earl he then withdrew to the back of the hall, where they found
many acquaintances, old to the Earl but new to George; and no man or
woman who saw George that day but was impressed with him as a youth of
whom great things might be expected.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
THE TROUT PLAYS HOOKEY.
A little trout, one bright sunshiny day,
As to his morning school he went his way,
Thought 'twould be fun to turn aside and stray,
And at the wicked game of hookey play.
"'Tis great," he said, as up the purling brook
He slyly swam, with many a backward look,
"To travel thus upon one's own sweet hook,
And leave the stupid study of one's book."
And so he gayly swam from pool to pool,
Forgetting all his duties at the school;
Forgetting lessons, pencil, slate, and rule,
Till afternoon gave way to twilight cool.
And then, ah me!--poor naughty little trout!--
A fisherman came treading softly out,
With pole, and line, and worms both sleek and stout,
In search of such as he, beyond a doubt.
And trouty, feeling hungry, took a bite.
He bit with all his main and all his might.
The line drew back, it drew exceeding tight,
And trouty flashed straight upward, out of sight.
And now the other trout, his brothers, weeping, say
He ne'er came back to his old purling way.
He's not been seen since that sunshiny day
When at the game of "hook" he tried to play.
CARLYLE SMITH.
[Illustration: PROTECTING FIELD ARTILLERY.]
THE BELGIUM ARMY PLAYING AT WAR.
BY V. GRIBAYÉDOFF.
The hardships of militarism are, perhaps, nowhere more apparent on the
other side of the water than in the little kingdom of Belgium. She lies
between France and Germany--we might say between the bark and the
tree--and should war break out between these two great powers, there is
little doubt that her neutrality would be violated by one or both of
them, and the war carried on within her borders. Such, at all events,
has been the argument of the advocates of military expenditure; and that
the Belgian Parliament has not turned a deaf ear to it is clear from the
enormous credits voted of late years for the construction of a line of
forts along the River Meuse, between Liege, the great manufacturing
centre, and the fortress of Namur; also for the general strengthening of
the defensive forces of the kingdom.
Here, then, is a nation of little over six million inhabitants,
occupying an area about half the size of New York State, of themselves
industrious and peaceable, yet obliged to contribute millions and
millions yearly for the support of an army which, including the militia,
exceeds two hundred thousand men. What would the tax-payers of New York,
with its population of nearly six millions and its militia of twelve
thousand men, say to a proposition to put them on the same military
footing with Belgium?
Inconceivable as the proposition would appear to us, the Belgians are
thoroughly resigned to their fate, and since the young Fleming or
Walloon who draws his number knows that he must serve his time, willy
nilly, he does it like a man, and even puts on an appearance of
satisfaction, for it is considered bad form to betray one's
disappointment. Fifty thousand young men are annually called, and of
these twelve thousand are selected by the drawing. Their term of service
is eight years, four under arms, and four in the reserve.
[Illustration: BELGIAN CAVALRY.]
I have heard competent military men, familiar with the methods employed
in the Belgian army, express the opinion that, for its size, it is one
of the most perfect fighting-machines in Europe. I must say that my own
experience during the regular summer manoeuvres this year in the
province of Namur was such as to incline me to share that belief. To
begin with, the men are of excellent physique, far larger in stature
than the French, though perhaps a trifle below the North German
standard. A Belgian regiment contains about an equal proportion of blond
and dark haired men, and it is a safe plan to class the former as
inhabitants of the Flemish provinces--that is, Flanders, Antwerp,
Limbourg, and North Brabant--and the latter as coming from the Walloon
section--viz., Hainault, South Brabant, Liege, Namur, and Luxembourg.
The Flemings are of Germanic extraction, and speak a language akin to
Dutch; the Walloons are an energetic Celtic race, with a proud military
history behind them. The two elements, leavening each other, form a
compact yet pliable mass, the best of material in the hands of a good
commander. French is the official military language; but the regulations
and orders are also printed in Flemish, which has a recognized legal
standing in the country.
[Illustration: "GUIDES" GETTING DINNER IN THE FIELD.]
The most picturesque body of troops in the Belgian army are the
dragoons, or "Guides." One of the accompanying photographs shows a party
engaged in preparing a meal in an open field. The men in the foreground
are wearing the forage-cap, but when on active duty they don the
imposing bear-skin busby seen on one or two of the figures in the rear.
They are the favorites of King Leopold, himself an ardent military man,
and the barrack of the 1st Regiment near Brussels is a marvel of good
accommodation and comfort. The "Guides" are picked men, the majority
Walloons. I have seen a squadron of them charge furiously across a plain
bestrewn with ponderous logs without a break in their line. Their
horsemanship is above praise. Besides its two regiments of "Guides," the
Belgian army has two regiments of chasseurs, or light cavalry, and four
of lancers--all with very showy uniforms. The predominating colors of
the cavalry are blue-gray, light blue, pink, dark green, orange, etc.
They use the same uniform for campaigning as for state occasions;
nevertheless, I did not see a really shabby-looking soldier during my
stay in Belgium.
[Illustration: AN INCIDENT OF INFANTRY DRILL.]
The infantry is, of course, the mainstay of the army. It is also its
hardest-worked branch. The photograph showing a detachment of
foot-soldiers up to their waists in water will certainly not suggest a
scene at Peekskill or any other American practice-ground. It is a scene
I witnessed many a time, however, in Belgium. Nor must it be imagined
that the "trick is done" when the soldiers have reached the opposite
shore. Weighted down with pounds of baggage--knapsacks,
ammunition-pouches, weapons, and clothing--and sopping to the skin, the
poor fellows often have hours of mountain-climbing to undergo before
the welcome bugle-blast brings them a few hours' respite. This is
warfare indeed--all but the actual killing.