The first person we met on arriving in front of Colonel Henry's house
was our old friend, Major Bullbeggor.
"I am feeling pretty peart, Mr. Judkins," he replied, in answer to my
greeting. "That little punch Harrison gave me is almost well, and
besides a slight twitching of the bones and some little stiffening of
the joints, with a little pain shooting through them, I am feeling fine,
sir. Yes, sir, feeling like a bird, sir. But where on earth did you get
that English sword, and what brought you and your mother here so soon?
Dunmore, for sure. No fear! The rascal passed down the river this
morning and I don't think he will try coming up again. But what can we
do without ships or guns? We gave them a dusting on the island, the
other day, and lost poor Jim Horn and three niggers before leaving.
Bullet and I had a hard time to get out, and Snake took a slight hurt."
"Yes, I heard all about it," I answered. And then Barron and I told how
we were captured and taken aboard the vessels, and how Harrison had
served my people at the Hall while we were absent.
The Major's eyes flashed as we told the story and his hand went
nervously to his sword hilt. "I didn't hit him hard enough," he said
fiercely, when we had told of the actions of the soldiers at the Hall.
While we continued speaking, we were interrupted by an uproar which
arose from the street beyond the college, and on looking in that
direction from which the sounds proceeded we suddenly saw the figure of
a man, covered completely from head to foot with feathers, come running
along the pavement towards us. Behind him came a howling mob, armed with
every conceivable sort of weapon, and they pressed closely upon the
runner's heels. The fugitive stopped suddenly in front of me and spoke
out--
"If you'll give me that sword of mine for a few minutes, I think I might
show these fools the absurdity of playing their infernal games upon one
of his Majesty's soldiers," he said coolly, and I instantly recognized
the voice of the corporal who had engaged us so hotly the day before. He
was almost completely hidden under his coat of tar and feathers, and the
only part of his face visible was his nose and eyes.
Barron and the Major burst into uncontrollable laughter, in which I
joined.
But the man's tormentors were upon him before I had even time to
consider his proposition. They surrounded him and began prodding him
with sticks and bayonets, shouting and jeering in derision.
Bullbeggor was the first of us to recover himself. He drew his sword and
struck his spurs into his powerful mare, making her spring forward
through the crowd. He knocked down several men in his path and reined up
alongside the prisoner.
"Disperse!" he roared. "Break away!" And he struck some of the men
nearest him with the flat side of his blade. Barron and I spurred
forward and joined him, for the natives were waxing furious at this
interruption and I noticed one man bringing his musket to his shoulder.
The Major saw the fellow in time to avert disaster, and he leaned
forward and smote the weapon so strongly that it fell from the
scoundrel's hands. Then we closed around the prisoner with our swords
sweeping at arm's length, and the Major thundered forth orders for the
men to disperse, threatening them with all sorts of military punishments
if they did not.
But these wild men had no idea of discipline, and feared nothing, so
they still crowded sulkily around us, brandishing their weapons and
cursing us heartily for interfering with their sport.
The uproar had been heard at headquarters, and Colonel Henry appeared on
the verandah accompanied by Colonel Bullet, Woodford, and some other
officers. Colonel Woodford roared out orders, and some of the men about
us turned to see who our new ally was. Then they suddenly recognized
Patrick Henry, as he stood there in his waistcoat on the verandah.
There was something in the calm dignity of Colonel Henry's manner that
arrested all the fierceness of these rough men's passions and drew
attention to him as the magnet draws soft iron. He stood there on the
verandah and held out his hand over that wild mob, and spoke, and in
less than half a minute every man was silent and listening.
I cannot recall the words that fell from the lips of that grand orator,
and when I think of him standing there speaking, it seems to me it was
not the words at all that affected me, but the deep power of the man's
nature.
I have heard men speak to men in my time, and have listened to some of
the eloquent words of those who have made history; but nothing I ever
heard compared to the power and force of those words that fell from the
lips of that plain and uncouth officer standing there on the verandah of
that house in Williamsburg.
He spoke to that mob of honor and manhood, and of the grand things of
war, and bade them remember that mercy to a fallen enemy showed the
difference between a coward and a man.
When he finished there was not one of that ruffian crowd who looked
squarely at his neighbor, and two minutes afterwards there were not six
of them in sight.
The only person there who appeared in no way affected by Patrick Henry's
remarkable eloquence, was the English corporal.
He looked carelessly about him for a moment and then at Major
Bullbeggor.
"I have to thank you," said he, "for interfering with those farmers, for
as you see, I am entirely unarmed and undressed--except for this growth
of feathers. But I am no chicken sir, in spite of them. No, sir, I'm
hardly classed as a chicken--as these two gentlemen with you might
testify.
"If the ugly old duck, there,"--and he pointed to Barron--"would like to
continue the argument we were engaged in last night, I think I might
persuade him of the fallacy of his ideas concerning his birth and self
importance."
"You have most remarkable powers of logic," laughed Barron, "and if
reason and sword-play were analogous I doubt not that you could sustain
your premise. But there are too many men like you in this world who wish
to maintain their point by reason of false analogy. Therefore, I warn
you that unless you mend your speech I shall turn you over again to
Colonel Gibson's lambs, and they will hardly let you off so easily the
next time."
"If they are his lambs," replied the soldier, turning and looking at
Colonel Henry, "I take it he is a preacher, and now I mark it, the
fellow has a most ecclesiastical mode of speech. One would think him an
itinerant minister, holding forth to his flock of"--
"Silence! you dog," growled the Major, "know your betters, or I'll
stretch you on the wheel." Then he beckoned to an orderly who stood nigh
the steps of the house and in a moment the Corporal was led away to be
scraped and scrubbed.
Barron and myself were then introduced to Colonel Henry, Woodford, and
other officers in the group, after which we were left to ourselves to
discuss more or less learnedly the probable outcome of affairs in the
colonies, while the older men went back to their duties. I knew little
or nothing about military organization, so when the talk drifted into
certain channels I withheld my speech. Before we left, however, Barron
and I had been assigned volunteer positions; he as captain of a company
of farmers, and I as a lieutenant in it, all under the command of Major
Bullbeggor, who, in turn, belonged to Colonel Bullet's regiment. Rank
was a pretty hard thing to determine in those days, for nearly everybody
was addressed as "Colonel" or "Major," no matter what they were in
reality. Besides this, there were several jealous men in the Richmond
assembly who pretended to doubt Colonel Henry's military ability, and
for a long time I believed Colonel Woodford in command.
The brave and gallant Bullet, however, took the place assigned him
without a word, as did Bullbeggor, Barron and myself, and we strove to
get some discipline into the hunters and farmers who made up our rank
and file.
Gibson's Lambs, as his command of wild men were called, were almost
beyond the reach of discipline, and were little better than Indians, so
at one time Colonel Woodford was strongly tempted to disband the whole
outfit, but later on they began to show signs of intelligence and were
kept in ranks.
We drilled and drilled, day after day, until finally we had the
satisfaction of heading a poorly armed, but fairly well organized, set
of men.
During this period we had several times had news of Berkley Harrison. He
and my sister were apparently married and living happily together at
Norfolk, but strange to say not a letter or word came direct from either
of them. Of Will Byrd and Sam there had been no trace since they went
aboard the frigate the evening I left the Hall. Barron sent several
messengers to Norfolk to find out their whereabouts, but to no purpose.
Whenever I had time to spare from the camp, I usually came over to see
my mother and cousin Marion. Miss Carter had seldom put in appearance
until the day Snake in the Grass brought the news of Harrison and my
sister living so happily together. Then her manner toward me instantly
changed, and instead of being out of sight she always put in appearance
whenever I called at my aunt's house. This amused me not a little, but I
was not ready to indulge her whims too quickly, so I put off matters
until I finally became so entangled with my pretty cousin that I was on
the point of doing something foolish. But sometimes unforseen incidents
happen that pull a man out of a drifting current.
One evening my cousin was not feeling well, so Miss Carter and I took a
long walk around the encampment and visited Lord Dunmore's deserted
palace. As we walked along the sound of a nigger singing arrested our
attention. It was Snake's voice, and his deep bass notes rang weirdly
through the gathering darkness. Snake had a strange habit of fitting all
his feelings into song, and now he sang in deep mournful notes
"Dere is trouble ober heah
An' dere's trouble ober dar-r
An' I really do believe dere's trouble everywhar-r
Trouble, troub-ll
Trouble, troub-ll
Oh dere's trouble on de ol' man's mine."
We tried to stop him as he rode past us, but he pretended not to see or
hear us, and rode away in the direction of the Major's quarters.
"Snake has a sorrowful mood upon him this evening," said Miss Carter,
after the singing had died away in the distance.
"And by the same token, I reckon, there's some bad news ahead," I
answered, "and we might as well go to the Major's and find it out."
When we reached there, we found that orders had just come for us to move
to Norfolk and take part in the operations against the British. I was
glad the news was no worse, and I must say I felt a great relief, in
spite of those I must leave behind me.
This was my last evening to spend with my people, and I determined to
know my fate in a certain direction, so I recalled a few things to Miss
Carter that had passed between us.
"My dear Dick," she said, "you have a most charming cousin. Why don't
you marry her?"
"In the first place, she would not marry me; and in the second, she is
hardly to my way of thinking," I replied.
"But you might alter your thoughts and ask her; she is pretty, wealthy,
and a lady born," said Miss Carter.
"So was your grandmother," I replied, "but that fact does not presuppose
any love for her on my part, charming as she still is. You also have the
qualities you have just mentioned, and you, you only, do I, or can I
ever love."
"If that is so, I shall be blessed with a most stupid husband," said
Rose--and that was all. I bade her good-night at my aunt's front door
and I think, or rather hope, it was quite dark. Then I went on my way
whistling, as happy as a boy.
The days that followed in the mud and rain near Norfolk, were
disheartening enough, but I never for an instant despaired. My whole
life seemed filled with a great coming joy, and even old soldiers like
Barron and Bullbeggor wondered at my never-failing spirits. There were
nearly a thousand of us, badly armed and half-frozen men, under the
command of Colonel Woodford, camped at the end of the causeway known as
Great Bridge. It was December, and the weaker men fell away rapidly,
until there were scarcely two hundred able riflemen left in the
trenches on the night of the eighth.
I was lying in my tent on this night, listening to the rain and thinking
happy thoughts of the joys in store for me when I should return to the
Hall and marry the beautiful girl I loved. Barron slept with me and was
snoring away at a great rate for it was long past midnight. I had just
made up my mind to cease building air-castles and follow his example,
and had fastened the tent flies and stretched myself out comfortably in
my wet blanket, when a noise outside startled me.
It sounded like the stealthy tread of someone bent on a secret purpose,
which, at this hour and place, would probably be anything but good.
I reached carefully for my pistol and noiselessly cocked back the
flint, and then stared through the inky darkness toward the tent fly. I
lay listening for a moment or two longer and then was aware of something
moving under the canvas at my side. In an instant I clapped the muzzle
of my pistol to it and called out, "Stop!"
"For God's sake, take your pistol away and let me in, quick!" said a
well known voice, and the next instant Will Byrd was inside the tent.
Another form followed his and for a moment I was almost smothered by
Sam's embrace.
"What time is it?" asked Will, quickly.
"Not quite three, I believe," I answered. "But for heaven's sake, how
did you get"--
"Hurry, then, we have just about time," interrupted Will, paying no
attention to my question. "They attack you at daylight. We have just
escaped, and came through the swamp to avoid being taken by these
farmers and held until too late"--
"Hello! What's the matter? Who's that?" cried Barron, starting up from
his blanket.
"Will and Sam," I said, "They've just come over. The grenadier company
from the fort will be on the causeway in an hour." And in less than a
minute all of us were on our way to Colonel Woodford's tent to tell him
the news.
Little noise was made as we gathered our men at the end of the causeway,
and as we hurried about Will told me, between breaths that my sister
Mary and Harrison were living in the town of Norfolk where Will had been
held close prisoner until an hour or two before. He had failed to gain
the good will of the governor on going back to the frigate after our
flight, and both he and Sam were closely confined. As soon as Sam was
able to work, he was taken out and sent, with a lot of other captured
slaves, to help strengthen the fortifications of the town.
Here he heard the news of the proposed attack and managed to liberate
Will and escape with him in time to warn us.
"When was Mary married, and at what church?" I asked breathlessly.
But Will suddenly turned away and did not answer and, taking an old
musket from a farmer, pretended to be busily engaged in fixing the
flint.
I was working hard with my men, trying to get an old twelve pounder into
position to sweep the bridge, but the wheels of its carriage were so
rotten and stuck so deeply in the mud, that they finally broke down
completely, leaving the gun useless.
As the gray dawn of the winter morning deepened, objects began to grow
more distinct. We shivered in our wet clothes and strained our eyes in
the direction of the fort that covered the farthest approach to Great
Bridge.
Something moved in the dim distance.
Slowly and surely it drew nearer, and then we saw the head of the
British column coming silently over the long causeway.
I shook from head to foot with cold and excitement, and was so ashamed
because I did so, I felt like doing something foolish to prove my
courage. It was very trying to stand there on that cold, wet morning and
not even speak above a whisper, or move more than a foot or two, while
that column, with a company of grenadiers in the van, made its way to
within speaking distance of us.
The enemy was so close that, even in that bad light, the features of the
men were easily distinguished, and their hard, bronzed faces looked
strangely fierce from under their tall grenadier hats. Then a nervous
rifleman on my left blazed off his priming, and the next instant a
hundred rifles rang out from the breastworks into a deep, rolling roar.
The head of the column seemed to melt away like an icicle in the
sunshine. Men pitched over each other in a tangled heap of guns, arms
and legs. But the rest behind them came steadily onward, firing together
in volleys that sounded like a single report.
Our line fairly flamed with rifle flashes, and the men yelled and
shouted at each discharge, until the blending of yells and musket firing
became almost deafening.
Suddenly the column wavered. Then backward it went and appeared almost
on the point of breaking. Officers waved their swords and shouted
furiously at the men, and like the gallant soldiers they were, they
closed up and came onward again with a scorching fire that seemed to
fairly fill the air with flying lead.
A bullet cut the coon-skin cap from the head of an old hunter at my
elbow, but he never even winced, and coolly bit the end off his
cartridge and rammed the lead home as if making ready to fire at a
target.
They were within twenty paces of us now, and I fired my pistols with the
certain knowledge that the bullets would strike within an inch of the
spot at which I aimed. The officer leading the grenadiers sprang forward
upon the breastwork, gave a shout to his men, and then, waving his
sword, he brought it down with a sweep at my head. He was a brave
fellow, and I did not know it was Fordyce until after my pistol bullet
had passed through his body and he had rolled back among his men.
It was now almost hand to hand fighting, and the hot blasts of the
muskets, firing in our faces, scorched the skin and blinded us so that
nothing could be seen a few feet distant, but we had the advantage of
only having to expose our faces, whereas the enemy had to stand to it in
full view.
I saw Colonel Woodford ride past the line within a foot of me, sitting
his horse easily in full view of the enemy, but he remained untouched.
The fight raged fiercely, but our men refused to be dislodged. The
grenadiers were forced backward on the causeway, where they rallied
upon the tory infantry coming to their support, and in a moment the
smoke cleared away enough to see them forming for another desperate
charge.
Again and again did they storm that line of riflemen, and each time they
were repulsed and forced onto the causeway. Then, with great precision,
they closed up and drew away, firing steadily as they went, the tory
infantry leading.
A great shout went up from our victorious soldiers, and Colonel Bullet
leaped, sword in hand, over the breastworks and called for the men to
follow him. Bullbeggor pushed forward on the right, and led half a score
of men onto the causeway, but the British fired so steadily, and kept
their formation so well, that Colonel Woodford would not risk any
mishap to mar so grand a victory. The men were recalled, in spite of the
gallant Bullet's protests, but the rifle fire was kept up from the
breastwork until the enemy was well across and out of range. All along
the line of that long causeway they dropped from the ranks before the
murderous fire of those Virginians, and when they at last gained the
protection of the guns of their fort on the other side, there was not
one grenadier left unhit. The rest of them broke and became a
disorganized mob, making for shelter where it could be found, while the
way now being clear the fort opened a heavy fire that soon kept our men
under cover.
When I had time to look about me I was astonished at the small number
of our wounded. In that hot fire it seemed to me that nearly everyone
must get hit. But the poor light and breastworks had saved us many
lives, and our victory was not robbed of its joy by the presence of many
dead and wounded comrades. Not over a score of our men were hit, and
only a few of these casualties resulted fatally. Barron had his coat cut
in three places by balls, for he had exposed himself unnecessarily, and
Bullbeggor had lost his hat and was bleeding from a scratch on his
forehead where a grenadier had made a pass at him with his bayonet and
then fired. The steel had cut the skin, but the bullet had missed and
the discharge had blackened the Major's face until it was the color of
his servant's. Snake wished to attend his master, but the Major waved
him back and insisted on taking no notice of his hurt. He stalked up and
down the line of men, with his drawn sword held before him, stopping now
and then to see that a rifle was properly primed, or that the men did
not flinch too much from the artillery fire and become disorganized in
case of a renewal of the attack.
Finally the fire of the fort slacked up, and then ceased altogether, and
we were able to go about unmolested. Twenty dead grenadiers lay piled up
at our end of the causeway, their red coats stained with blood and dirt.
Then, as the fever of the fight died away in our veins, we looked out
upon those silent corpses and began to realize the grim glory of war.
Will joined me then and we shook hands silently over our success, and
afterwards we started to do what we could for our wounded men.