Chapter XXVI.

"You think, I'll weep.

No, I'll not weep:--

I have full cause of weeping; but this heart

Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws,

Or ere I'll weep."

Lear.

I pass over the manner and time of our being on the road between

Philadelphia and New York, as things belonging to a former age, and to be

forgotten. I will merely say that we travelled the South Amboy road, and

went through a part of the world called Feather-bed Lane, that causes my

bones to ache, even now, in recollection. At South Amboy, we got on board

a sloop, or packet, and entered the bay of New York, by the passage of the

Kills, landing near White-hall. We were superintending the placing of our

chests on a cart, when some one caught my hand, and exclaimed--

"God bless me!--Captain Wallingford come to life, as I live!"

It was old Jared Jones, the man who had been miller at Clawbonny from my

infancy to the day I left home. I had supposed him to be at work there

still; but the look he gave me--the tears that I could see were forcing

themselves from his eyes--his whole manner, indeed,--gave me at once to

understand that all was not right. My countenance, rather than my tongue,

demanded an explanation. Jared understood me, and we walked together

towards the Battery; leaving Marble and Neb to proceed with the luggage to

the modest lodgings in which we had proposed to hide ourselves until I had

time to look about me--a house frequented by Moses for many years.

"You perceive I do not return home, Jared, in precisely the condition in

which I went abroad. My ship and cargo are both lost, and I come among

you, now, a poor man, I fear."

"We were afraid that something of the sort must have happened, or such bad

news would never have reached Clawbonny, sir. Some of your men got back

months ago and they brought the tidings that the Dawn was captivated by

the English. From that hour, I think, Mr. Hardinge gave the matter up. The

worst news, however, for us,--that of your death excepted,--was that of

the mortgage on Clawbonny."

"The mortgage on Clawbonny! Has anything been done in connection with

that?"

"Lord bless you, my dear Mr. Miles, it has been foreclosed, under the

statue I believe they call it; and it was advertised to be sold three

months. Then, when it _was_ sold, how much do you think the place, mill

and all, actually brought? Just give a guess, sir?"

"Brought! Clawbonny is then sold, and I am no longer the owner of my

father's house!"

"Sold, sir; and we have been sent adrift--niggers and all. They said the

freedom-laws would soon let all the older blacks be their own masters;

and, as to the young 'uns, why, your creditors might sell their times. But

Mr. Hardinge put the poor critturs into houses, near the rectory, and they

work about among the neighbours, until things are settled. It's to their

credit, Mr. Miles, that not one of 'em all thinks of runnin' away. With

the feelin' that's up in the country consarnin' blacks, and no master to

look arter them, every one of 'em might be off, without risk."

"And Chloe, my sister's own girl, what has become of Chloe, Jared?"

"Why, I believe Miss Lucy has tuck her. Miss Lucy is dreadful rich, as all

allow: and she has put it in her father's power to take care of all the

moveables. Every huff [hoof] of living thing that was on the place, has

been put on the Wright farm, in readiness for their owner, should he ever

come to claim them."

"Has Miss Hardinge had the consideration to hire that farm, with such an

object?"

"They say she has bought it, out of the savings of her income. It seems

she is mistress of her income, though under age. And this is the use she

has made of some of her money."

"I had supposed she would have been married by this time. Mr. Drewett was

thought to be engaged to her when I sailed."

"Yes: there is much talk about that, through the country; but they say

Miss Lucy will never marry, until she has been of age a few weeks, in

order that she may do what she pleases with her money, afore a husband can

lay his hand on it. Mr. Rupert is married, I s'pose you heard, sir--and

living away like a nabob with his bride, in one of the best houses in

town. Some people say, that he has a right in a part of old Mrs.

Bradfort's estate, which he will get as soon as Miss Lucy comes of age."

I did not like to pursue this part of the discourse any further, though it

was balm to my wounds to hear these tidings of Lucy. The subject was too

sacred, however, to be discussed with such a commentator, and I turned the

discourse to Clawbonny, and the reports that might have circulated there

concerning myself. Green told me all he knew, which was briefly

as follows:

It seems that the second-mate of the Dawn, and such of her crew as had

been put in the Speedy, and who had not been impressed either in the

frigate itself, or in England after they were turned ashore, had found

their way home, bringing with them an account of the capture of the ship,

her extraordinary appearance near the four combatants, and their own

attempt to escape. This last affair, in particular, had made some noise in

the journals--a warm discussion having taken place on the subject of the

right of Americans to run away with an English man-of-war's boat, under

the circumstances in which these poor fellows had found themselves placed.

In that day, parties in America took as lively an interest in the wars of

Europe, as if the country were a belligerent; and politicians, or _quasi_

statesmen, were little more than retailers of the most ultra English and

ultra French opinions. It was sufficient for the Federalists to justify

any act, if England did it; while the Democrats had almost as strong a

disposition to defend all the enormities which the policy of Napoleon led

him to commit. I say _almost_--for, to deal honestly with posterity, I do

not think the French-American party was quite as French as the

English-American party was English. These last had returned to their

provincial dependence of thought; and, well-read in the English version of

all political and moral truths, and little read in those of any other

state of society, they believed, as he who worships at a distance from

the shrine is known implicitly to yield his faith. The English party had

actually a foundation in deeply-rooted opinion, and colonial admiration

for the ancient seat of power, whereas the French owed its existence

principally to opposition. The alliance of 1778 had some little influence

among men old enough to have been active in the events of the revolution,

it is true, but they existed as exceptions even in their own party. It was

the English feeling that was natural, hearty, dependent, and deep; the

other having been, as has just been stated, rooted as much in opposition,

as in any other soil.

The public discussions of the fate of the Dawn, as a matter of course, had

drawn much speculation, among my acquaintances, to my own. As month passed

after month, and no letters reached America, the opinion became very

general that the vessel was lost. At length, a ship from Jamaica brought

in a blind story of the manner in which I had re-taken my vessel from

Sennit; and, it now being known that we were only four left in the vessel,

the conjecture was hazarded that we had been wrecked for want of force to

take care of the ship; and I was set down as a drowned man.

Shortly after this opinion of my fate became general among my

acquaintances, John Wallingford had appeared at Clawbonny. He made no

change, however, spoke kindly to every one, told the slaves nothing should

be altered, and gave them every reason to suppose that they would continue

under a true Wallingford régime. It was generally understood he was to be

my heir, and no one saw any occasion for the acts of violence that

succeeded.

But, two months after John Wallingford's visit, Mr. Hardinge, and all

connected with Clawbonny, had been astounded by the intelligence of the

existence of the mortgage. A foreclosure under the statute, or 'statue,'

as Jared had called it, was commenced, and a few months later the place

was publicly sold at Kingston, none bidding more than five thousand

dollars for it, less than a sixth of its worth. This sacrifice of real

estate, however, under forced sales, was, and is, common enough in

America, especially; it being generally understood that the creditor is

prepared to rise in his bids, as necessity presents. In my case there was

no one to protect my rights, Mr. Hardinge having attended the sale

prepared to reason with my cousin on the propriety and generosity of his

course, rather than prepared with good current coin to extinguish the

claim. John Wallingford did not appear, however, and the sale took place

without further competition, than one bid of Mr. Hardinge's; a bid that he

was not properly prepared to make, but which he hazarded on his knowledge

of Lucy's means and disposition. A man of the name of Daggett, a relative

of John Wallingford's, by his mother's side, was the ostensible purchaser,

and now professed to be the owner of my paternal acres. It was he who had

taken possession under the purchase, had dismissed the negroes, and sent

off the personal property; and he it was who had placed new servants on

the farm and in the mill. To the surprise of everybody, John Wallingford

had not appeared in the transaction, though it was understood he had a

legal right to all my remaining effects, in the event of my real death. No

will was proved or produced, however, nor was anything heard of, or

concerning, my cousin! Mr. Daggett was a close and reserved man, and

nothing could be learned on the subject from him. His right to Clawbonny

could not be disputed, and after consulting counsel in the premises, Mr.

Hardinge himself had been compelled, reluctantly, to admit it. Such was

the substance of what I gleaned from the miller, in a random sort of

conversation that lasted an hour. Of course, much remained to be

explained, but I had learned enough, to know that I was virtually a beggar

as to means, whatever I might be in feeling.

When I parted from Jared I gave him my address, and we were to meet again

next day. The old man felt an interest in me that was soothing to my

feelings, and I wished to glean all I could from him; more especially

concerning Lucy and Mr. Hardinge. I now followed Marble and Neb to the

boarding-house, one frequented by masters and mates of ships, the masters

being of the humble class to condescend thus to mingle with their

subordinates. We consumed the rest of the morning in establishing

ourselves in our rooms, and in putting on our best round-abouts; for I was

not the owner of a coat that had skirts to it, unless, indeed there might

be a few old garments of that sort among the effects that had been removed

from Clawbonny to the Wright farm. Notwithstanding this defect in my

wardrobe, I would not have the reader suppose I made a mean or a

disagreeable appearance. On the contrary, standing as I did, six feel

one, in my shoes, attired in a neat blue round-about of mate's cloth, with

a pair of quarter-deck trowsers, a clean white shirt, a black silk

handkerchief, and a vest of a pretty but modest pattern, I was not at all

ashamed to be seen. I had come from England, a country in which clothes

are both good and cheap, and a trimmer-looking tar than I then was, seldom

showed himself in the lower part of the town.

Marble and I had dined, and were preparing to sally forth on a walk up

Broadway, when I saw a meagre, care-worn, bilious-looking sort of a person

enter the house, and proceed towards the bar, evidently with an inquiry

concerning some of the inmates. The bar-tender pointed at once to me, when

the stranger approached, and with a species of confidence that seemed to

proclaim that he fancied news to be the great end of life, and that all

who were engaged in its dissemination were privileged beings, he announced

himself as Colonel Warbler, the Editor of the New York Republican Freeman.

I asked the gentleman into the common sitting-room, when the following

dialogue took place between us.

"We have just heard of your arrival, Captain Wallingford," commenced the

_Colonel_, all New York editors of a certain calibre seeming to be,

ex-officio, of that blood-and-thunder rank, "and are impatient to place

you, as it might be, _rectus in curiâ_, before the nation. Your case

excited a good deal of feeling some months since, and the public mind may

be said to be prepared to learn the whole story; or, in a happy condition

to indulge in further excitement. If you will have the goodness to furnish

me with the outlines, sir," coolly producing pen, ink, and paper without

further ceremony, and preparing to write, "I promise you that the whole

narrative shall appear in the Freeman of to-morrow, related in a manner of

which you shall have no reason to complain. The caption is already

written, and if you please, I will read it to you, before we go any

further." Then without waiting to ascertain whether I did or did not

please to hear him, the colonel incontinently commenced reading what he

called his caption.

"'In the Schuylkill, arrived lately at Philadelphia, came passenger our

esteemed fellow-citizen Captain Miles Wallingford"--in 1804, everybody had

not got to be '_esquires_,' even the editors not yet assuming that title

of gentility _ex officio_. "This gentleman's wrongs have already been laid

before our readers. From his own mouth we learn the following outline of

the vile and illegal manner in which he has been treated by an English

man-of-war called the Speedy, commanded by a sprig of nobility y'clepped

Lord"--I have left a blank for the name--"an account which will awaken in

the bosom of every true-hearted American sentiments of horror and feelings

of indignation, at this new instance of British faith and British

insolence on the high-seas. It will be seen by this account, that not

satisfied with impressing all his crew, and in otherwise maltreating them,

this scion of aristocracy has violated every article of the treaty between

the two countries, as respects Captain Wallingford himself, and otherwise

trodden on every principle of honour; in a word--set at naught all the

commandments of God. We trust there will be found no man, or set of men in

the country, to defend such outrageous conduct, and that even the minions

of England, employed around the Federal presses of _our_ country, will be

ready to join with us, on this occasion, in denouncing British aggression

and British usurpation.' There, sir, I trust that is quite to

your liking."

"It is a little _ex parte_, Colonel, as I have quite as much complaint to

make of French as of English aggression, having been twice captured, once

by an English frigate, and again by a French privateer. I prefer to tell

the whole story, if I am to tell any of it."

"Certainly, sir; we wish to relate all the enormities of which these

arrogant English were guilty."

"I believe that, in capturing my ship, the English commander did me an act

of great injustice, and was the cause of my ruin--"

"Stop, sir, if you please," interrupted Colonel Warbler writing with

rapidity and zeal, "and thus caused the ruin of an industrious and honest

man; ay, that ends a period beautifully--well, sir, proceed."

"But, I have no personal ill treatment to complain of; and, the act of the

French was of precisely the same character; perhaps, worse, as I had got

rid of the English prize-crew, when the Frenchman captured us in his turn,

and prevented our obtaining shelter and a new crew in France." Colonel

Warbler listened with cold indifference. Not a line would he write against

the French, belonging to a very extensive school of disseminators of news

who fancy it is a part of their high vocation to tell just as much, or

just as little, of any transaction, as may happen to suit their own

purposes. I pressed the injuries I had received from the French, on my

visitor, so much the more warmly, on account of the reluctance he

manifested to publish it; but all to no purpose. Next morning the

Republican Freeman contained just such an account of the affair as

comported with the consistency of that independent and manly journal; not

a word being said about the French privateer, while the account of the

proceedings of the English frigate was embellished with sundry facts and

epithets that must have been obtained from Colonel Warbler's general stock

in trade, as it was certainly not derived from me.

As soon as I got rid of this gentleman, which was not long after he

discovered my desire to press the delinquency of the French on his notice,

Marble and I left the house, on the original design of strolling up

Broadway, and of looking at the changes produced by time. We had actually

got a square, when I felt some one touch my elbow; turning, I found it was

an utter stranger with a very eager, wonder-mongering sort of a

countenance, and who was a good deal out of breath with running.

"Your pardon, sir; the bar-tender of the house where you lodge, tells me

you are Captain Wallingford." I bowed an assent, foreseeing another

application for _facts_.

"Well, sir. I hope you'll excuse the liberty I am taking, on account of

its object. I represent the public, which is ever anxious to obtain the

earliest information on all matters of general concernment, and I feel

emboldened by duty, to introduce myself--Colonel Positive of the Federal

Truth Teller, a journal that your honoured father once did us the favour

to take--we have this moment heard of the atrocities committed on you,

Captain Wallingford, by 'a brigand of a French piratical, picarooning,

plundering vagabond,'" reading from what I dare say was another caption,

prepared for the other side of the question; "a fresh instance of Gallic

aggression, and republican, jacobinical insolence; atrocities that are of

a character to awaken the indignation of every right-thinking American,

and which can only find abettors among that portion of the community,

which, possessing nothing, is never slow to sympathize in the success of

this robber, though it be at the expense of American rights, and American

prosperity."

As soon as Col. Positive had read this much, he stopped to take breath,

looking at me, as if expecting some exclamations of admiration

and delight.

"I have suffered by means of what I conceive to be a perfectly

unauthorized act of a French privateer, Col. Positive," I replied; "but

this wrong would not have been done me, had I not suffered previously by

what I conceive to be an equally unjustifiable act of the English frigate,

the Speedy, commanded by Captain Lord Harry Dermond, a son of the Irish

Marquis of Thole."

"Bless me, sir, this is very extraordinary! An English frigate, did you

say? It is very unusual for the vessels of that just nation ever to be

guilty of an aggression, particularly as our common language, common

descent, Saxon ancestors, and Saxon English, and all that sort of thing,

you know, operate against it; whereas, sorry I am to say, each new arrival

brings us some fresh instance of the atrocities of the myrmidons of this

upstart Emperor of the French; a man, sir, whose deeds, sir, have never

been paralleled since the day of Nero, Caligula, and all the other tyrants

of antiquity. If you will favour me, Captain Wallingford, with a few of

the particulars of this last atrocity of Bonaparte, I promise you it shall

be circulated far and near, and that in a way to defy the malignant and

corrupt perversions of any man, or set of men."

I had the cruelty to refuse compliance. It made no difference, however;

for, next day, the Federal Truth Teller had an account of the matter, that

was probably about as accurate as if I had related all the events myself,

and which was also about as true as most of the jeremiads of the journals

that are intended for brilliant effect. It was read with avidity by all

the federalists of America; while its counterpart in the Republican

Freeman, passed, _pari passu_, through all the democratic papers, and was

devoured, with a similar appetite, by the whole of that side of the

question. This distinction, I afterwards ascertained, was made by nearly

the whole country. If a federalist was my auditor, he would listen all day

to that part of my story which related to the capture by the French

privateer; while it was _vice versâ_ with the democrats. Most of the

merchants being federalists, and the English having so much more

connection with my narrative than the French, I soon found I was making

myself exceedingly unpopular by speaking on the subject at all; nor was it

long before a story got in circulation, that I was nothing but a runaway

English deserter myself--I, the fifth Miles of my name, at Clawbonny! As

for Marble, men were ready to swear he had robbed his captain, and got off

from an English two-decker only four years before. It is unnecessary to

tell people of the world the manner in which stories to the prejudice of

an unpopular man are fabricated, and with what industry they are

circulated; so I shall leave the reader to imagine what would have been

our fate, had we not possessed the prudence to cease dwelling on our

wrongs. Instead of thinking of appealing to the authorities of my country

for redress, I felt myself fortunate in having the whole affair forgotten,

as soon as possible, leaving me some small portion of character.

I confess, while returning home, I had sometimes fancied I might be

protected by the country of which I was a native, for which I had fought,

and to which I paid taxes; but I was only three-and-twenty, and did not

then understand the workings of laws, particularly in a state of society

that submits to have its most important interests under foreign control.

Had I received a wrong from only a Frenchman, or an Englishman, I should

have fared a little better, in appearance, at least, though my money was

irretrievably gone; for one political party, or the other, as the case

might have been, would have held me up to _ex parte_ sympathy, so long as

it suited its purposes, or until the novelty of some new case offered an

inducement to supplant me. But I had been wronged by both belligerents;

and it was soon agreed, by mutual consent, to drop the whole subject. As

for redress or compensation, I was never fool enough to seek it. On the

contrary, finding how unpopular it made a man among the merchants, to

_prove_ anything against Great Britain, just at that moment, I was wisely

silent, thus succeeding in saving my character, which would otherwise have

followed my property, as the shortest method of making a troublesome

declaimer hold his tongue.

Most young persons will doubtless hesitate to believe that such a state of

things could ever have existed in a nation calling itself independent;

but, in the first place, it must be remembered, that the passions of

factions never leave their followers independent of their artifices and

designs; and, in the next place, all who knew the state of this country in

1804, must admit it was not independent in mind of either England or

France. Facts precede thought in everything among us; and public opinion

was as much in arrears of the circumstances of the country, then,

as--as--to what shall I liken it?--why, as it is to-day. I know no better

or truer parallel. I make no doubt that the same things would be acted

over again, were similar wrongs to be committed by the same powerful

belligerents.

Marble was ludicrously enraged at these little instances of the want of

true nationality in his countrymen. He was not a man to be bullied into

holding his tongue; and, for years afterwards, he expressed his opinions

on the subject of an American's losing his ship and cargo, as I had lost

mine, without even a hope of redress, with a freedom that did more credit

to his sense of right, than to his prudence. As for myself, as has just

been said, I never even attempted to procure justice. I knew its utter

hopelessness; and the Dawn and her cargo went with the hundreds of other

ships and cargoes, that were sunk in the political void created by the

declaration of war, in 1812.

This is an unpleasant subject to me. I could gladly have passed it over,

for it proves that the political association of this country failed in one

of the greatest ends of all such associations;--but nothing is ever gained

by suppressing truth, on such a matter. Let those who read reflect on the

past: it may possibly have a tendency to render the future more secure,

giving to the American citizen in reality, some of those rights which it

so much accords with our habits to boast of his possessing. If concealment

did any good, I would gladly be silent; but diseases in the body politic

require a bold and manly treatment, even more than those in the physical

system. I remember the tone of the presses of the trading towns of this

country on the subject of the late French treaty,--one of the most

flagitious instances of contempt, added to wrong, of which history

supplies an instance, and will own I do not feel much encouraged to hope

for any great improvement.

After we got rid of Colonel No. 2, Marble and I continued our walk. We

passed several persons of my acquaintance, but not one of them recognised

me in my present attire. I was not sorry to see this, as I was wearied of

my story, and could gladly remain in a species of incognito, for a few

days. But, New York was comparatively a small town in 1804, and everybody

knew almost everybody's face who was anybody. There was little real hope,

therefore, of my escaping recognition for any great length of time.

We strolled up above St. Paul's, then a high quarter of the town, and

where a few houses had been erected in what was then a new and enlarged

style. On the stoop of one of these patrician residences--to use a word

that has since come much into use--I saw a fashionably pressed man,

standing, picking his teeth, with the air of its master. I had nearly

passed this person, when an exclamation from him, and his calling my mate

by name, caused me to stop. It was Rupert!

"Marble, my dear fellow, why, how fare you?" said our old ship-mate,

descending the steps, with an indolent, half-cordial, half-condescending

manner; extending his hand at the same time, which Moses received and

shook heartily.--"The sight of you reminds me of old times, and

salt water!"

"Mr. Hardinge," answered my mate, who knew nothing of Rupert's defects,

beyond his want of aptitude for the sea, "I'm heartily glad to fall in

with you. Do your father and handsome sister live here?"

"Not they, old Moses;" answered Rupert, still without casting his eyes on

me. "This is my own house, in which I shall be very happy to see you, and

to make you acquainted with my wife, who is also an old acquaintance of

yours--Miss Emily Merton that was--the daughter of Gen. Merton, of the

_British_ army."

"Blast the British army! and blast the British navy, too!" cried Marble,

with more feeling than manners. "But for the last, our old friend Miles,

here, would now be a rich man."

"Miles!" Rupert repeated, with an astonishment that had more nature in it

than had been usual with him of late years. "This is true, then, and you

have not been lost at sea, Wallingford?"

"I am living, as you may see, Mr. Hardinge, and glad of this opportunity

to inquire after your father and sister?"

"Both are well, I thank you: the old gentleman, in particular, will be

delighted to see you. He has felt your misfortunes keenly, and did all he

could to avert the sad affair about Clawbonny. You know he could as well

raise a million, as raise five or ten thousand dollars; and poor Lucy is

still a minor, and can only touch her income, the savings of which were

insufficient, just then. We did all we could, I can assure you,

Wallingford; but I was about commencing house-keeping, and was in want of

cash at the moment,--and you know how it is under such circumstances. Poor

Clawbonny! I was exceedingly sorry when I heard of it; though they say

this Mr. Daggett, your successor, is going to do wonders with it,--a

capitalist, they tell me, and able to carry out all his plans."

"I am glad Clawbonny has fallen into good hands, since it has passed out

of mine. Good evening, Mr. Hardinge, I shall take an early opportunity to

find your father, and to learn the particulars."

"Yes; he'll be exceedingly glad to see you, Wallingford; and I'm sure it

will always afford me pleasure to aid you, in any way I can. I fear it

must be very low water with you?"

"If having nothing to meet a balance of some twenty or thirty thousand

dollars of unpaid debt is what you call low water, the tide is out of my

pocket, certainly. But, I shall not despair; I am young, and have a

noble, manly profession."

"Yes, I dare say, you'll do remarkably well, Wallingford," Rupert

answered, in a patronizing manner. "You were always an enterprising

fellow; and one need have no great concern for _you_. It would hardly be

delicate to ask you to see Mrs. Hardinge, just as you are--not but what

you appear uncommonly well in your round-about, but I know precisely how

it is with young men when there are ladies in the case; and Emily _is_ a

little over-refined, perhaps."

"Yet, Mrs. Hardinge has seen me often in a round-about, and passed hours

in my company, when I have been dressed just as I am at this moment."

"Ay, at sea. One gets used to everything at sea. Good evening; I'll bear

you in mind, Wallingford, and may do something for you. I am intimate with

the heads of all the principal mercantile houses, and shall bear you in

mind, certainly. Good evening, Wallingford.--A word with you, Marble,

before we part."

I smiled bitterly--and walked proudly from before Rupert's door. Little

did I then know that Lucy was seated within thirty feet of me, listening

to Andrew Drewett's conversation and humour. Of the mood in which she was

listening, I shall have occasion to speak presently. As for Marble, when

he overtook me, I was informed that Rupert had stopped him in order to

ascertain our address;--a piece of condescension for which I had not the

grace to be thankful.

Miles Wallingford Sequel to "Afloat and Ashore" · 第 26 / 30 章