On the succeeding evening Herbert proceeded to read to the assembled
listeners the continuation of the reminiscences of the times of the
American Revolution.
While the heart of many a patriotic American was throbbing with
indignation and anxiety, and the countenances of many a mother, wife,
daughter or sister was pale with watching and tears, the face of nature
was delightful and undisturbed. The soft breezes were rich with the
perfume of flowers and shrubs, the verdant fields glittered with the
dew, the sweet melody of birds and hum of insects enlivened the scene,
while the cattle, with measured steps, were pacing the accustomed path,
toward their green pasture. With the early dawn the old marketman had
returned, and brought stirring news. The roads, he said, were filled
with soldiers, and tents were pitched in every convenient place; they
would permit no provisions to be carried into Boston, and had even
succeeded in carrying off the cattle which were pastured on the islands
in the harbor, so that it was supposed that the British troops were
likely to have much difficulty in procuring food. “Our troops are
ready and brave enough,” said he, “if they be not trained for service,
and, what if their muskets be of all sizes and shapes, the main thing
is to know how to use them, which, I’ll warrant they do.” They had
proceeded without any interruption, he said, until they had crossed
Malden Bridge, when they were stopped by a small party of soldiers,
who, after some questions, permitted him to go on, but refused to
let the gentleman pass until they received further orders from their
commander; that he had waited until they applied to him, who “luckily,”
said the old man, “proved to be General Knox, and you may be sure that
he would see that any friend of Captain B.’s had his rights, so, after
some talk apart, he not only allowed him to proceed, but sent a man
with him, that he might not be again stopped, and I saw him depart,
after he had shaken hands with me, and left this piece of money with
me, like a gentleman as he is.” He proceeded to say, that as it was
late before he concluded his business, he had stopped at the house of
an old acquaintance, near the Bridge. Thus relieved of their anxiety,
they could now listen with interest, to the details of old Sam. “The
regulars will be starved out, by and by,” said he, “if they don’t get
scared to death first. They say that three of their generals, as they
were walking down Beacon Hill, the other night, heard strange noises
over their heads, which they supposed to be some kind of airguns,
fired at them by the Yankee rebels, as they called them, and took to
their heels with such expedition that they nearly fell headlong; but,
after all,” said he, with an explosion of great glee, “it was only the
humming of beetles, and if they run for such imaginations, what will
they do when they stand, face to face, with our brave boys? And, there
is a plan afoot, which will soon settle the business; it is to erect
works on the hill in Charlestown, which overlooks Boston, so that our
men can fire in among them.” He then proceeded to say that the British
would not permit the inhabitants of Boston to leave the town, or hold
any communication with their friends; that it was said reinforcements
from England were daily expected, and that the Americans were anxious
to strike some bold stroke, before their arrival. More than all, he
reported, that George Washington, of Virginia, was appointed Commander
in Chief of the American Armies, “and a noble commander it is said
he will make, being an old soldier, and, that it will not be long
before he will be before Boston.” The heart of the affectionate mother
throbbed with anxiety at these tidings. Situated as they were, in the
very seat of contention, what would be the result if the enemy were
victorious, and succeeded in dispersing her countrymen, and what would
become of her, and her helpless little family? Anticipating such an
emergency, her husband, in his last letter, had directed her to leave
their home, and, with her little girls, retire to her native place,
which was about forty miles in the interior, there to await his return,
or the indications of Providence. With a heavy heart, after taking the
advice of the good Prudy, who, with disinterested affection, offered
to stay at the mansion as long as it was safe, she determined that
the crisis which her husband had foreseen, had now arrived, and that
she would follow his directions. “If,” said her faithful domestic,
“it comes to the worst, Sam and I can shut up the house, turn out the
cattle, and retire over the hill to his sister’s, where we shall be
safe, but, it would not do for you, with these little ones, to run such
a risk. You can now go with safety in the old chaise; which is roomy
enough to hold considerable, and, you will not be afraid to drive the
horse, who, tho’ not swift, is sure.”
Having come to this resolution, no time was to be lost, and they
immediately commenced preparations for the journey.
The morning arrived when she must bid farewell to the scene of so
much peace and quiet domestic joy, perhaps never again to see it,
for she could not conceal from herself that fire and sword were the
accompaniments of modern warfare; but her children, delighted at the
journey, would not suffer a shade to linger upon her brow, and Prudy,
amidst smiles and tears, uttered her affectionate adieu, echoed by
Sam. The day was beautiful, and the wild enthusiasm of her companions
prevented her indulgence in melancholy reflections, while the road led
them away from the scenes of tumult and confusion, and she trusted they
might escape observation. She was not disappointed; night brought them
to the home of her youth, where a joyous welcome awaited them, and
until better times, a peaceful retreat.
“And now,” said Mrs. Wilson, “I must leave my farther tale untold.
Perhaps at some future time I may continue it, and I think it will
interest you, as the incidents are connected with your family.” “I
had hoped, mother,” said Charles, that you would tell us about Bunker
Hill.” “I should not be a good historian, my son, in tales of war and
bloodshed. Charlestown was burned by the British, as you know, but
their devastations stopped there, at that time, and our old mansion was
left unharmed and safe, till such time as its owners could return to
its peaceful shades.” “And did the Tory uncle never return to America?”
“He did not; he reached England in safety, but did not live long after
that event. I will relate one little circumstance, Charles, which
happened at this time. There was a poor widow, who occupied a small
house in Charlestown, which was destroyed during the conflagration, and
which comprised the whole of her fortune. She had contrived to support
herself and two children by her daily exertions, but was now left
destitute indeed. With the hope of assistance from some friends, in an
adjoining town, she took her departure from the scene of destruction,
carrying one child in her arms, while the other, an active little boy
of four years, closely followed her footsteps. As he trudged along
and employed the little staff with which his mother had provided
him, in tracing lines in the road, he struck something which, by its
brightness, attracted his attention. Picking it up and delighted with
his prize, he soon overtook his mother and showed her a ring, the
value of which was evident by its costly diamond, and the initials
and cypher upon the inside. The good woman, rather perplexed than
pleased with this circumstance, and tired with her walk, sat down with
her children upon some timber to deliberate upon what she should do
with her acquisition. Two gentlemen, whose dress announced them to be
British officers, were walking slowly by, and as they passed, she heard
one say, ‘It must have been near this spot. It was a last memento, and
the loss is to me irreparable.” Thinking it possible this observation
might refer to the ring, she immediately addressed them, and related
the circumstance of her son’s finding it. It was directly identified,
and claimed by the officer, who had made the remark which had attracted
her attention. He had discovered his loss, and was then retracing
his steps, though almost hopeless of recovering his treasure. He
was a nobleman of high rank in the army, and, after a few words of
inquiry, she received not only present assistance, but assurance
that her son should never want a friend. The promise was faithfully
fulfilled, and through the assistance of their kind benefactor, he
received an education, which has enabled him to take a high stand in
his profession, which was that of a clergyman, and he is now a much
respected minister in this vicinity.”