The next morning the frigate was under way before we were up, but as the
water appeared shoal at the end of the reach, she was anchored to await
high tide, for the river is very narrow here and dangerous for a large
vessel to turn about in. When we arose and came on deck a little later,
we had the pleasure of seeing our friends, or rather enemies, of
yesterday, pass close under the frigate's stern; and as they did so
Barron leaned over the rail and saluted Captain Cahill very pleasantly
and wished him a safe and happy voyage.
We stood on the _Fowey's_ high poop and watched the swift little
schooner pass up the river and disappear around the bend above us. Soon
afterwards we heard the rattle of musket firing, followed by the heavy,
deep boom of her pivot-gun. After the reverberating echoes died away
along the wooded shores, all was silent. The sun broke through the river
mist and shone warmly on the muddy water, and the day promised to be
bright and quiet. The two small craft that followed the schooner now
took in their sails and put out their oars, and their niggers pulled to
a lusty chorus.
Dunmore was up early. He was evidently annoyed at having to spend so
much time on the river, for he came on deck in quite bad humor. He
greeted us rather stiffly, and then turned to Captain Graham who had
also just made his appearance.
"What is that firing about?" demanded the Governor in no uncertain tone.
"I don't know, your excellency," replied Graham.
"Captain Graham," said the Governor, "you will please tell me just what
you know, sir, quickly. It won't take a minute, sir, or else write it
down on a slip of paper. Send Mr. Johnson to me, sir!"
The Captain went forward on the poop, and a moment afterward a young
officer appeared coming aft. He saluted the Governor and stood
attention.
"Mr. Johnson, it is your watch on deck, sir. What was that going about
on board the _Black Eagle_?" inquired Dunmore.
"I d-d-do not k-k-know,--your"--
"Call the Corporal of the guard, sir. Don't stand there and stammer at
me, sir," cried the Governor, interrupting him and waxing furious.
The poor lieutenant retreated to the break of the poop, closely followed
by his master, but he was too excited to speak plainly.
"Corp'ral g-g-g'ard! Corp'ral g-g-g'ard!" he cried weakly, but there was
no response from the main deck.
"What are you doing, sir!" thundered Dunmore as he came up behind him.
"Trying t-t-to c-c-call the Corporal of the g-g-g'ard, your"--
"For God's sake, Mr. Johnson call somebody. Call somebody, sir, quick,"
cried his lordship, walking to and fro across the deck and wringing his
hands. Then, as he came to where the Lieutenant stood, he could stand it
no longer and waxed into a frenzy.
"Do something! Call somebody! Do something for God's sake! Do something
Mr. Johnson, or get off this ship," he cried. And the young officer,
showing him self to be a man more fitted for action than words, dashed
down the companion ladder and dragged the corporal he wished for up
again by the collar of his coat.
Then, after much swearing and questioning, the Governor heard that
Captain Cahill had fired upon a small hut, just visible beyond the bend
of the river. I tell these events that happened on board the _Fowey_,
frigate, to give an idea of the Governor's temper, and also because
every incident of that time stands out clearly before me. Mr. Jones, the
young officer who took us off the _Black Eagle_ was very pleasant to us,
and warned us against the tempers of Captain Foy and the Governor, after
which he kept out of our way, and we saw him no more to speak to while
we were aboard the ship. He was a promising young man and I hoped to
have him help us get ashore, but he evidently thought it best not to be
intimate with neutrals.
After breakfast his lordship was in better spirits, and these were more
improved later in the morning upon the arrival of a small boat which
carried Mr. Robinson, a noted tory, and several of his family to the
frigate. Mrs. Robinson was a woman of fine presence, and her daughter
might have been said to have been beautiful, judging from the standard
of those days, but she was no longer young and her lack of success in
the matrimonial field appeared to have soured her temper. These people
were made comfortable in the officer's cabin and were very outspoken in
their opinions regarding Mr. Patrick Henry.
When the tide turned in the afternoon and began to run a strong ebb, the
frigate was gotten under way, and, with her working canvas set, headed
down stream. The wind was so light that, in spite of the most careful
steering, she was run on a mud bank before going much over a mile.
Captain Foy, however, was equal to the occasion. He soon had a kedge out
and before the falling tide left her fast he warped the ship back again
into the channel. Bad luck did not desert us here, for the frigate had
hardly gathered way again before she piled heavily upon a sand bar and
all attempts to pull her off proved useless. It was then decided to
await the next high water.
The day passed stupidly enough in spite of the presence of Miss Robinson
on board. We were all anxious to get down river and Lord Dunmore was now
in such a bad humor that he refused flatly, and with some energy, our
request to have a small boat put us ashore, so we could walk the twenty
miles or more across country to Judkins' Hall.
But we were not the only ones to suffer from his lordship's temper. Mr.
Johnson, the young navigating lieutenant, came in for his share also.
He was standing on the edge, or break, of the poop, after the frigate
had run hard and fast aground, and was much upset in his mind, although
the accident was unavoidable.
A little imp of a powder-monkey boy thought to take advantage of a
moment when his back was turned, to imitate his defect in speech and
make faces at him for the benefit of the ship's company. The officer,
however, turned and caught him in the act.
"Damn you, sir! Come to the m-m-mast!" he bawled, and Lord Dunmore,
hearing the noise, came forward to see what was the matter, and take a
hand in the disturbance if occasion demanded it.
"What has he done?" asked the Governor, as the boy came aft crying with
fear.
"Nothin'," snuffled the little rascal, speaking before anyone could stop
him. "'E just sez, 'Dam you, sir, come to the mast,' an' I comes."
"Did you swear at this boy for nothing?" demanded the Governor.
"No, your excellency," said Mr. Johnson. "I said d-d-damn y-y-you, sir,
c-c-come here, because he"--
"That will do!" thundered the Governor. "Go to your quarters in arrest,
sir. I won't have you swearing at my men for nothing. Go, sir!" And
after this affair we gave his excellency a wide berth for the rest of
the day.
The next morning the tide floated us clear, and we got under way just as
the _Black Eagle_ came around the bend above us. She soon caught up with
the frigate and we learned that she had a dozen or more prominent tories
aboard who wished to take refuge with the royal Governor.
We stopped twice on the way down the river, once to take aboard a tory
named Thornton, who lived on a large plantation on the south side, and
once we stayed an hour or more on a mud flat.
It was nearly sundown before the white pillars of Judkins Hall showed
through the fringe of willows on the river bank. The red light of the
setting sun flooded the south portico and a pane of glass in a window,
catching a ray at an angle, burned like a bright eye for an instant as
we drifted past.
Dunmore reluctantly consented to send us ashore in a boat with Mr.
Johnson and a guard of soldiers to see if anyone remained at the Hall,
and if so, to help carry what luggage there was to be sent aboard the
frigate. My slaves could follow us in the small craft. As the boat drew
near the beach, where only a few days before Bullbeggor had won his
strange victory over Harrison, we looked for some signs of welcome from
our people. Not a leaf stirred in the calm of the bend, and not a sound
from the shore broke the ominous stillness of that warm, clear evening.
None of us spoke and even Barron's face appeared grave with some thought
of impending evil. The sun shone on the sweating faces of the rowers,
and the regular clank of their oars in the row-locks beat time to my
heart throbs as I waited to learn what was wrong.
When the boat's keel struck the sand, we sprang quickly ashore and
proceeded rapidly by the river path toward the Hall. On entering the
fringe of bushes and undergrowth on the river bank I thought I heard a
strange noise close by me to the right. We stopped a moment and
listened, but the four men and Mr. Johnson, who were following close
behind us, came up, and we started on again toward the Hall.
All of a sudden I heard a faint cry.
"Marse Dick!" it said feebly, and the voice came from the direction I
had first heard the noise. Barron, Byrd and myself heard the cry
simultaneously, and we instantly started toward the spot from whence it
came. The next minute we broke through a thicket of blackberry bushes,
and found a small cleared spot in the midst of the grass and briars.
There, lying upon his back, with his left hand held over a nasty cut in
his abdomen, was my boy, Sam. The poor fellow saw me and I caught his
glad look of recognition, but his glance wandered back of me to Mr.
Johnson and his men, and his look turned to one of savage fury. He
started to rise, but I quickly held him in my arms while the rest
crowded around us.
"What's happened?" I gasped. "Where is mother and Mary--and Miss
Carter?"
"Miss Mary, she gone wid Marse Berk--all alone--old missus and Miss Rose
gone away, too," said the poor fellow, with great difficulty.
I looked at Will and saw him turn ashy pale and his jaws set until the
bands of muscle in his lean face seemed about to break with the strain.
"What rascal do you suppose did this?" asked Mr. Johnson, coming up
closer and noticing the look on Will's face. But no one answered.
"Who gave you that cut, Sam?" I asked, bending over him and gently
removing his hand from the gash. "Get some water, quick!" I continued to
the men, but Barron had already started for the boat, where he found a
bailer, and returned in a moment with it full of water. In a few moments
Sam felt better, and I immediately set to work to dress his wound. "Who
cut you?" I asked again, for I saw he hesitated about telling me. I soon
had a bandage in place, and then I repeated the question.
"Marse Berk," he finally whispered, and as he did so Will leaned over
him to catch the words. "He an' that Captain were here--Marse Berk--he
wanted Miss Mary to go off alone with him on the schooner--an' he took
her--she wanted to wait for old missus an' she cried--I came--so he
killed me."
"But mother and Miss Carter, Sam, quick; where are they?" I asked,
frantically.
"Dunno, Marse Dick. I'se been here sence yesterday--I ain't seen no
one--they all must be gone somewheres, too."
"Carry him to the Hall," I said to the soldiers, and then Will and I
started on a run towards the house. On reaching the front door we found
it shut fast, but Will burst the fastening of a window on the verandah
and sprang into the dining room, and I followed at his heels. I bawled
out my mother's name, and Will cried out for my sister, but our voices
echoed through an empty house. There was not even a slave there.
We quickly went through the rooms upstairs, and then through the
pantries and kitchens in the rear, without finding a single house
servant. Then we started for the slave quarters to see if anyone had
remained there, but not even a single pickaninny was in sight.
Everywhere there were traces of hurried preparations for departure.
Clothes were scattered about the floors, and in the servants' dining
room the evening meal lay untouched upon the table. We went outside and
looked about the court, and then went to the stables. We had only been
through the empty stalls on the lower floor, when we saw two of my
niggers coming on a run through the field to the northward. They had
seen us and had come from hiding places, and in a few minutes they were
with us and seizing our hands, thanking us for coming back again. Then
Mr. Johnson came up with his men, carrying Sam on a litter made of their
crossed muskets, and Barron showed them the way to a couch in the slave
quarters.
My two field hands, who were telling me what had happened, were ready to
run at the sight of the soldiers, but I bade them be still and tell
their story.
They told how the schooner, _Hound_, had anchored just off Harrison's
plantation, the evening we were captured by Captain Cahill, and how
Berkley Harrison had come over to the Hall with Captain Fordyce and a
file of soldiers. Then all hands had gotten drunk, in spite of my
mothers' presence, and Harrison had insisted on my family and Miss
Carter accompanying him to Norfolk on the vessel. My mother had
remonstrated at this high handed business, but Harrison stormed and
threatened, and vowed he could not keep the soldiers from looting and
burning the Hall if they were not all on board and ready to sail within
an hour. My sister took him outside to try and get him into a more
reasonable mood, and that was the last anyone on the plantation, except
Sam, saw of her.
After waiting half an hour, my mother and Miss Carter became alarmed at
her absence, and also at the actions of the soldiers, who began to fire
their muskets at random. Upon looking for their Captain, they found him
sitting on the verandah with a bottle of spirits on a table before him
and much the worse for what he had already drank. He informed my mother
roughly that Harrison and my sister had embarked aboard the _Hound_,
which would sail within the hour. He then rose from the table and
insulted Miss Carter, after which he staggered down to the shore and was
carried aboard his vessel, leaving the Hall at the mercy of his men.
These rascals broke into the women's side of the slave quarters and such
a scene of riot followed that my poor mother and Miss Rose fled across
the fields for their lives. They reached Harrison's place and had the
frightened slaves, who were preparing to follow their master, harness a
horse for them. Then they drove with all speed for Pendleton's Inn at
the cross-roads several miles to the eastward. Here they were made
comfortable and were now awaiting news of our whereabouts. As the men
finished their story, Barron reappeared with the Lieutenant, and I
repeated some of the details. Then I turned to the officer.
"You may give the Governor my compliments," I said, in a dry, rasping
tone that seemed to stick in my throat, "and tell him that I am sorry
not to be able to accompany him to Norfolk this evening. I shall,
however, hope to meet him and his party quite soon, and will make all
haste after I see affairs attended to here. Mr. Byrd, and, perhaps, Mr.
Barron, will go with you," and I gave Will a look that made him nod
assent.
"I am v-very s-s-sorry, sir," stammered Mr. Johnson, "but the Governor's
orders were positive. They were that all of you should return with me to
the _Fowey_."
"Indeed?" asked Will, blandly.
"And of course you will carry out the Governor's orders?" asked Barron,
smiling pleasantly.
"At any cost, sir," replied Mr. Johnson.
"So you say," remarked Barron, still smiling.
"So I'll do," replied Mr. Johnson coloring a little at Barron's remark.
"If you doubt me, sir, try me," and he looked about him for his men who
now came straggling up.
"No offence, sir," put in Barron, quickly. "I merely repeated a remark
said to have been made quite often in the society at court--a remark
expressing doubt in the mind of the person making it, without reflecting
in any manner upon the sincerity of the person telling of the supposed
event."
"At any rate, you certainly will allow us time to collect my people and
attend to my scattered property. Also, you will allow us to make what
necessary changes in our personal attire we see fit?" I asked.
"Certainly, sir," replied the officer, "the frigate will anchor for the
night in the broad reach a few miles below the bend, and you shall have
plenty of time, not only to pack your effects, but to send for whatever
relatives you wish to accompany you. The men, meanwhile, can collect
your slaves and send them on ahead of us."
"We shall make our preparations," I answered shortly, and then I led the
way into the Hall.