Leaving Edith to pursue her way towards the Oneida territory, and Mr.
Prevost, after parting with Lord H---- at the distance of two miles
from his own house, to ride on to Johnson Castle, let us follow the
nobleman to Albany, where he arrived somewhat after nightfall. His
first duty, as he conceived it, led him to the quarters of the
commander-in-chief, where he made a brief but clear report of all that
had occurred in his transactions with the Indians.
"I found," he wrote, "from information communicated by Sir William
Johnson, that there was no need of any concealment; but, on the
contrary, that it would be rather advantageous to appear at the
meeting with the Five Nations in my proper character. The results were
what I have told you. There is one other point, however, which I think
it necessary to mention, and which, if imprudently treated, might lead
to serious results."
He then went on to state generally the facts in regard to the death of
the Indian by the hands of Woodchuck, and the supposed capture of
Walter Prevost by a party of the Oneidas.
It would be uninteresting to the reader to hear the particulars of the
conversation which followed. Suffice it to say that the government of
the colony, in all its departments, was very well disposed to
inactivity at that time, and not at all inclined to exert itself for
the protection of individuals, or even of greater interests, unless
strongly pressed to do so. This Lord H---- was not at all inclined to
do, as he was well aware, from all he had heard, that no action on the
part of the government, short of the sudden march of a large body of
troops, could effect the liberation of Walter Prevost, and that to
expect such a movement, which itself might be unsuccessful, was quite
out of the question with the officers who were in command at the time.
His conference with the commander-in-chief being ended, he declined an
invitation to supper, and went out on his search for the small inn,
where he had been told he would find the man whose act, however
justifiable, had brought so much wretchedness upon Mr. Prevost's
family.
The city of Albany in those days (as we have reason to know from very
good authority), though not numbering, by many thousands, as large a
population as it now contains, occupied a space nearly as large as the
present city. One long street ran by the bank of the river, to the
very verge of which beautiful and well-cultivated gardens extended;
and from the top of the hill down to this lower street ran another,
very nearly, if not exactly, of the same position and extent as the
present State Street. On the summit of the hill was the fort; and,
built in the centre of the large descending street, which swept
round them on either side, were two or three churches, a handsome
market-place, and a guard-house. A few other streets ran down the hill
in a parallel line with this principal one; and some small streets,
lanes, and alleys, connected them all together.
Nevertheless, the population, as I have said, was, comparatively, very
small; for, between house and house and street and street, throughout
the whole town, were large and beautiful gardens, filling up spaces
now occupied by buildings, and thronged with human beings.
A great part of the population was, at that time, Dutch; and all the
neatness and cleanliness of true Dutch houses and Dutch streets were
to be seen in Albany in those days--would we could say as much at
present! No pigs then ran in the streets, to the horror of the eye and
the annoyance of the passenger; no cabbage-leaves or stalks disgraced
the gutter; and the only place in which anything like filth or
uncleanliness was to be seen, was at the extremity of the littoral
street, where naturally the houses of the boatmen and others connected
with the shipping were placed, for the sake of approximating to the
water. Here certainly some degree of filth existed; and the air was
perfumed with a high savour of tar and tobacco.
It was towards this part of the town that Lord H---- directed his
course, inquiring for the inn called "The Three Boatmen." Several
times, however, was he frustrated, in his attempt to obtain
information, by the ignorance of the English language shown by a great
portion of the inhabitants; and the pipe was removed from the mouth
only to reply, in Dutch, "I do not understand."
At length, however, he was directed aright, and found a small and
somewhat mean-looking house, in which an adventurous Englishman, from
the purlieus of Clare-market, had established a tavern for the benefit
of boatmen. It had, in former times, belonged to a Dutch settler, and
still retained many of the characteristic features of its origin. Four
trees stood in line before the doors, with benches underneath them,
for the convenience of those who liked to sit and poison the sweet air
of the summer evenings with the fumes of tobacco.
Entering through a swing-door into the narrow, sandy passage, which
descended one step from the street, Lord H---- encountered a negro
tapster with a white apron, of whom he inquired if Captain Brooks were
still there.
"Oh yes, massa officer," said the man, with a grin. "You mean Massa
Woodchuck," he continued, showing that the good man's Indian nick-name
was very extensively known. "You find him in dere, in de coffee-room."
And he pointed to a door, once white, now yellow and brown with smoke,
age, and dirty fingers.
Lord H---- opened the door, and went in amongst as strange and
unprepossessing an assemblage of human beings as it had ever been his
chance to light upon. The air was rendered obscure by smoke, so that
the candles looked dim and red, and it was literally difficult to
distinguish the objects round. What the odour was, it is impossible to
say, for it was as complicated as the antidote of Mithridates; but the
predominant smells were certainly those of tobacco, beer, rum, and
Hollands gin. Some ten or twelve little tables of exceedingly
highly-polished mahogany, but stained here and there by the
contaminating marks of wet glasses, divided the room amongst them,
leaving just space between each two to place a couple of chairs back
to back.
In this small den, not less than five or six and twenty persons were
congregated, almost all drinking, almost all smoking, some talking
very loud, some sitting in profound silence, as the quantity of liquor
imbibed, or the national characteristics of the individual, might
prompt.
Gazing through the haze upon this scene, which, besides the sturdy and
coarse, but active, Englishman, and the heavy, phlegmatic Dutchman,
contained one or two voluble Frenchmen, deserters from the Canadas,
and none of them showing themselves in a very favourable light, Lord
H---- could not help comparing the people before him with the free
wild Indians he had lately left, and asking himself "Which are the
savages?"
At length, his eye fell upon a man sitting at a table in the corner of
the room next to the window. He was quite alone, with his back turned
to the rest of the men in the place, his head leaning on his hand, and
a short pipe laid down upon the table beside him. He had no light
before him as most of the others had, and he might have seemed asleep,
so still was his whole figure, had it not been that the fingers of his
right hand, which rested on the table, beat time to an imaginary tune.
Approaching close to him, Lord H---- drew a seat to the table, and
laid a hand upon his arm. Woodchuck looked round, and a momentary
expression of pleasure, slight and passing away rapidly, crossed his
rugged features.
The next moment, his face was all cold and stern again.
"Very kind of you to come and see me, my lord," he said, in a dull,
sad tone. "What do you want with me? Have you got anything for me to
do?"
"I am sorry to see you looking so melancholy, captain," said Lord
H----, evading his question. "I hope nothing else has gone amiss."
"Haven't I cause enough to be melancholy," said the other, looking
round at the people in the room, "cooped up with a penful of swine?
Come out--come out to the door. It's cold enough there; but the
coldest wind that ever blew is better than the filthy air of these
pigs."
As he spoke, he rose; and a little, pert-looking Frenchman, who had
overheard him, exclaimed, in a bantering tone, "Why you call us pigs
more nor yourself, de great hog?"
"Get out of my way, for fear I break your back," muttered Woodchuck,
in a low, stern voice. "If your neck had been broken long ago, it
would have been better for your country and for mine." And taking up
the little Frenchman by the nape of the neck with one arm, he set him
upon the table from the side of which he had just risen.
A roar of laughter burst from a number of the assembled guests; the
little Frenchman spluttered his wrath, without daring to carry the
expression of his indignation further; and Woodchuck strode quietly
out of the room, followed by his military visitor.
"Here--let us sit down here," he said, placing himself on a bench
under a leafless tree, and leaving room for Lord H---- by his side. "I
am gloomy enough, my lord, and haven't I reason to be so? Here I am
for life. This is to be my condition, with the swine that gather up in
these pigsties of cities--suffocating in such dens as we have just
left. I guess I shall drown myself some day, when I am druv quite mad.
I know a man has no right to lay hands upon himself. I larnt my Bible
when I was young, and know what's God's will; so I shan't do anything
desperate so long as I am right here." And he laid his finger on his
forehead. "No, no, I'll just take as much care of my life," he
continued, "as though it were a baby I was nursing; but, unless them
Ingians catch some other white man, and kill him--which God
forbid--I've got to stop here for life; and even if they do, it's more
nor a chance they'd kill me too, if they got me; and when I think of
them beautiful woods, and the pleasant lakes, with the picture of
everything round painted so beautiful on 'em, when they are still, and
the streams that go dancing and splashing along over the big black
stones and the little white pebbles, seeming for all the world to sing
as if for pleasure at their freedom, and the open friendly air of the
hill-side, and the clouds skimming along, and the birds glancing
through the branches, and the squirrels skipping and chattering, as if
they were mocking everything not so nimble as themselves, I do often
believe I shall go crazed to think I shall never see those things
again."
Lord H---- felt for him much; for he had a sufficient portion of love
in his own heart for the wilder things of nature, to sympathize in
some degree with one who loved them so earnestly.
"I trust, Woodchuck," he said, "that we shall be able to find some
employment for you with the army--if not with my own corps, with some
other, which may give you glimpses, at least, of the scenes you love
so well, and of the unconfined life you have lived so long. But I have
come to consult you upon a subject of much and immediate importance,
and we must talk of that the first thing."
"What is it?" asked Brooks, in an indifferent tone, fixing his eyes
upon the stones of the street, faintly lighted by the glare from
within the house.
Lord H---- began his account of what had happened between the Mohawk
and the Hudson, with some circumlocution; for he did not feel at all
sure of the effect it would produce upon his companion's mind; and the
Woodchuck seemed to fall into one of those deep reveries in which one
may be said to hear without hearing. He took not the slightest notice
of what his noble visitor said regarding the burning of the wood or
the danger of Mr. Prevost and Edith. It seemed to produce no more
distinct effect than would the wind whistling in his ears. He sat calm
and silent without an observation; but he grew more attentive, though
only in a slight degree, when the narrator came to mention the anxiety
of the family at the protracted absence of Walter.
When, at last, Lord H---- described the finding of the knife and the
knapsack, and told of the conclusions to which the whole family had
come, he started up, exclaiming--"What's that--what's that?" Then,
after a moment's pause, he sank down upon his seat again, saying, with
a groan, "They have got him--they have got him, and they will tomahawk
him--the bloody, barbarous critturs! Couldn't they have chosen some
more worthless thing than that?"
Pressing his hand tightly upon his forehead, as if he fancied the
turbulent thoughts within would burst it, he remained for a moment or
two in silence, till Lord H---- asked if he imagined they would
execute their bloody purposes speedily.
"No, no," cried the man; "no fear of that; they'll take time enough,
that's the worst of the savages. It's no quick rage, no angry heat,
with them; no word and a blow. It's cold, bitter, long-premeditated
hatred. They wouldn't have half the pleasure if they didn't draw out
their revenge by the week or the month. But what's to be done now?
Gracious God! what's to be done now?"
"That is precisely what I came to consult you upon," said Lord
H----. "But let us talk over the matter calmly, my good friend. This
is a case where grief, anger, and indignation can do nothing; but
where deliberate thought, reason, and policy, even cunning such as
their own (for if we could arrive at it, we should be quite justified
in using it), may, perhaps, do something to save this poor boy."
"How the devil would you have me calm?" exclaimed the man, vehemently;
but then, suddenly checking himself, he said, "You're right--you're
right! I am forgetting my old habits in these smoky holes. Thought,
cunning, those are the only things to do with an Indian. It's
tarnation hard to outwit him, but it may be done when one knows his
tracks well. I can't get my brain to hold steady to-night. This
story's upset all my thoughts; and I've got no consideration in me.
You must give me a night and a day to think over the matter; and then
I'll see what's to be done. By the Lord, Walter shan't die! Poor
fellow! what should _he_ die for?--However, I guess it's no use
talking in that sort of manner. I must think of what's to be
done--that's the business in hand. I'll think as soon as I can, my
lord; only you just tell me now all you have done, if you have done
anything. As for Prevost, I don't suppose he's had time to do much;
for though he is always right in the end, and no man's opinion is
worth more, yet, if you touch his heart and his feelings, as you call
them, his wits get all in a work, just like mine at this moment. More
fool he, and I too!"
"We have done something," said Lord H----, in reply. "Mr. Prevost set
out this morning to see Sir William Johnson."
"_He_ is no good," growled Woodchuck, impatiently.
"I came hither to consult with you," continued Lord H----; "and we
have commissioned the boatman whom they call Robert, a tall, stout
man----"
"I know him--I know him," interposed Woodchuck; "passably honest--the
best of them."
"Well, we have commissioned him," resumed the nobleman, "to seek for
some Indian runner, or half-breed, to carry news of this event to
Otaitsa, whom Edith believes the tribe will keep in the dark in regard
to the capture of Walter."
"Likely--likely," said the Woodchuck. "Miss Prevost understands them;
they'll not tell the women anything, for fear they should meddle.
They've a poor opinion of squaws. But the girl may do a great deal of
good, too, if you can get the tidings to her. She's not as cunning as
the rest of them; but she has more heart, and soul, and resolution
too, than a whole tribe of Indian women. That comes of her mother
being a white woman."
"Her mother a white woman!" exclaimed Lord H----.
"Ay, didn't you know that?" interrogated Woodchuck; "just as white as
Miss Prevost; and quite a lady, too, she was to look at, or to speak
to--though she was not fond of speaking with white men, and would draw
back into the lodge whenever she saw one. I did speak to her once,
though, when she was in a great fright about Black Eagle, who had gone
to battle against the French; and I, happening to come that way, gave
her some news of him. But we are getting astray from what's of more
matter than that. The girl will save him, take my word for it, if
there's strength enough in that little body to do it. But let me see.
You talk of Indian runners. Where is one to be found who can be
trusted? They're generally a bad set, the scum of the tribes. No real
warrior would take up on such a trade. However, what's to be done? No
white person can go; for they'll scalp him to a certainty, and he
would give his life for Walter's, that's all. On my life, it would be
as well to give the dangerous errand to some felon, as I have heard
say they do in despotic countries--give criminals some dangerous task
to perform; and then, if they succeed and escape, so much the better
for them; if they die, so much the better for the community. But I'm
getting wandering again," he continued, rising. "Now, my lord, this is
no use. Give me a few hours to think; to-morrow, at noon, if you will;
and then I'll come and tell you what my opinion is."
As he spoke, he turned abruptly towards the house, without any
ceremonious leave-taking, and only looked round to put one more
question.
"At the post, I suppose?" he said.
Lord H---- assented; Brooks entered the house, and at once sought his
own chamber.