First Militia Law in Puddleford.--Aunt Sonora opposed to
it.--Turtle sets her right.--Meeting to choose
Officers.--Longbow electioneers for Captain; Takes the
Chair.--Turtle objects.--P'ints of Order.--_Vivy Vocy_ Vote
won't do.--Legally authorized Boxes must be had.--Longbow's
Speech.--Turtle fined for Contempt.--Longbow elected
Captain.--Great Military Turn-out.--Company turn a Circle;
Break down.--Turn an Angle; Break down again.--Address to
Troops.--Adjourn _sine die_.
This great republic has ever been notorious for its patriotism, and this
patriotism used to break out everywhere, in days past, into a volcanic
eruption on days of general militia muster. Puddleford began very early to
feel the necessity of a spontaneous expression of its devotion to our
common country. When it was very new, and before any law had been passed by
the legislature organizing its people into companies, regiments,
battalions, and divisions, very strong premonitory symptoms of war were
frequently manifested. Beagle brought into the country an old snare drum,
which gave out a very crazy sound. Swipes owned a fife that squeaked most
hideously; and this fife and drum, with their owners tied to them, often
went on one of the most public corners of the village, on moonlight nights,
and roused up the war spirit of the whole neighborhood. They seemed to put
the very furies into the dogs, who barked and howled from every quarter.
By and by, a law was passed by the legislature of the state, compelling
every man to do militia duty, under fines and penalties that were really
frightful; and Turtle most solemnly declared, upon the strength of a fee of
one dollar to him paid for his advice thereon, "that the act was
constitutional, and accordin' to the common la' and the staterts, and that
it must be lived up to, fodder or no fodder!"
Aunt Sonora said, "she didn't see what under heavens an' airth anybody
wanted of a war la'; they'd allers got along well 'nough in Puddleford
mindin' their own business. Somebody allers got killed when there were so
many guns and sogers, and so much powder; and for her part, she'd not stay
round any such gath'rings, if she starv'd in jail. She'd quit the
settlement fust!"
Turtle informed the old lady that "wimin wouldn't have-ter turn out; it was
only the men over eighteen years of age--and that there was no fighting
done, only in case of actual invasion of the country, when wimin and all
would have-ter fight like blazes, or the whole settlement would be laid in
ashes."
Aunt Sonora still insisted that "guns were _dang_-rous, any way; that they
_would_ go off, nobody knew when, and she shouldn't be s'prised to hear of
a dozen men bein' killed at every trainin'; if men would only be ker-ful,
but then they wouldn't; they'd all get as crazy as March hares, and as wild
as loons!"
By the law, every company was permitted to choose its own officers, and
Puddleford counted just about people enough to make a respectable
organization of one company in numbers. It was resolved to hold a meeting
for organization, and to immediately choose officers at the tavern of
Bulliphant, no man under eighteen years of age to be present, because, as
Longbow declared, "that would be agin the la', and the proceedin's would be
all squashed."
In truth, Longbow had no doubt in his mind, from the very first, that he
would be captain from the very necessity of the case. He was, he thought,
the military pillar of the whole township, as well as the civil; and as he
had generalled everything so far, he did not believe any one would dare to
dispute his inalienable right to that eminent position. So the Squire began
very early to talk learnedly about the last war, and the blood and fury
which accompanied it; and he put on a very ferocious look when in public,
and was frequently seen practising with his old fusee at a mark, which
discharged like a funnel, wrong end foremost. "He had a brother," he said,
"who fit at Lunder's Lane, and who was shot in the back, by savage Injuns
in the rear, jest as he was a-bagnettin' some of the British!"
Turtle, who was a little ambitious for the office, and who saw the drift of
the Squire's bravado, said, "he guessed he was a-runnin' when he got that
are shot."
The Squire replied, that "he shouldn't sit still and hear such talk from
any man. He didn't care 'bout his brother--it warn't that--but to hear the
patriots of our country slandered was a species of high treason, and that
was agin the constitution; and that 'ere insterment couldn't be violated in
his presence by no man--_he_ was a sworn officer--and the glorious blood of
the great wars was a sacred thing in his eye--and it _should_ be
protected."
Turtle declared, "it didn't make any difference what the Squire's _brother_
did, or did not do--it didn't help the Squire any. He guessed the Squire's
blood had Peter'd out."
The Squire said, "he was the last man to boast of his relations, but blood
was blood, whatever they might say."
On the famous night when the election came off, the tavern of Bulliphant
was crowded. A dozen or more ragged urchins, who had been barred out by
authority contained in the notice, had clustered around the windows, and
were gazing in with awe upon the assemblage. The "wimin" had been admitted
by special grace, and occupied the adjoining rooms. It was a most momentous
occasion--a great day for Puddleford--"it looked so much like war," as Aunt
Sonora said, "as if they were a-goin' to fight right off."
The Squire rose, after the crowd had gathered, and said, "the first thing
in order was to drink--it wouldn't be proper to enter into any important
military business, without first drinking to our common country--and he
wished the land_lud_ to set on a gallon of baldface--the Puddleford name
for whiskey--so the wheels could be started right."
"And another thing," exclaimed Turtle; "we want the American flag and an
eagle, these 'ere glorious symbols that went along with our forefathers
when they were a fightin' for the liberties of our country!" but as
Puddleford had no flag, a compromise was made, and the meeting concluded to
nail a shilling pocket-handkerchief, which had one painted on it, to the
bar, leave out the eagle, and take the whiskey.
Squire Longbow took the chair, and said, "he would listen to anything the
meetin' had to say. He was by la' inspector of elections."
Turtle objected--"he didn't know whether he'd take the chair or not--that
was for the meetin' to say."
The Squire said, "he took it by virtue of bein' a member of the board of
inspectors of township elections--and this was one of 'em--a regular
township 'lection, and nothin' else, held by authority of la', under the
statert, past and 'proved, and sent him as justis to be lived up to."
Turtle replied, "he didn't see how the Squire was a _board_ of inspectors;
'cordin' to his own showin'--where's the township clerk, and where's the
supervisor--have you swallow'd 'em all up, Mr. Longbow?" He objected, and
he wanted his objection noted--taken down in black and white.
The Squire said, "that was _their_ business--if they neglected the defence
of our common country, _he_ couldn't help it--he meant to be a patriot, and
stand up to the constitution and staterts, if every man in Puddleford
turned traitor." The Squire swelled out very large, after concluding this
speech.
At this point, Aunt Sonora, who was intently absorbed in the earnestness
which pervaded the meeting, and who sat in the next room, rose, and asked
the Squire "if there was really goin' to be war?"
The Squire replied, "that the meetin' must not be disturbed; the wimin had
been let in as a great favor--for he didn't think the statert meant to have
a soul on 'em present, and he didn't know but jest that thing would blow
all the proceedin's to flinders in the higher courts, and that _every soul_
on 'em would be court-martialed."
Aunt Sonora slunk out of sight, drew her handkerchief, and heaved a long
sigh.
Turtle rose and said, "he would nominate the Colonel captain of the first
militia company of Puddleford."
"That's straight agin la'!" exclaimed the Squire; "that makes a _vivy vocy_
vote on't, and we can't take any _vivy vocy_ vote here; this 'ere thing has
got-ter go through the town ballot-box, or it won't be legal--this vote
must be returned in form to the governor, and if _he_ should see it was a
_vivy vocy_ vote, he'd squash everything quicker'n you could say Jack
Robinson." The Squire didn't like the nomination--he was determined to be
captain himself.
Turtle asked the Squire "if a hat would not do to collect votes?"
The Squire said, "nothing short of the legally authorized boxes; he
couldn't trample down the la'."
The legally authorized boxes were procured, and the voting was ready to go
forward.
Hereupon the Squire arose, and blowing his nose with one finger, a side at
a time, and heaving a few sepulchral hems, said "that it was his duty to
say a few words: He was something of a military man himself--he belonged to
the Hos Guards down in the Susquehannas, when he was a young man, a great
many years ago, and they had sham fights most every year." ("Was anybody
killed?" exclaimed Aunt Sonora, who had forgotten herself, and whose nerves
had been shocked by hearing the word "fight.")
The Squire turned to Aunt Sonora, and declared that "it was the last time
she _should_ speak. They had sham fights most every year," continued the
Squire, "and he recollected that, while pursuin' the enemy in an open
field, he fell from his horse, and bruised his head, but he caught his
horse agin, and jined his company, 'fore anybody knew what had happened."
Turtle rose, and inquired, "What he put on his head? If it warn't
opodildoc?"
"And that company," continued the Squire, disregarding Turtle's question,
"is in existence yet, and is commanded by Captain Zekiel--Zekiel--Zekiel--I
don't know what his t'other name is; and there ain't no time,
feller-citizens, sin' it's bin a company, that it wouldn't er turned out in
war if there'd bin a war, and they'd bin called on, feller-citizens."
Turtle Said "he know'd about the last war, and he never heer'd of that
company of Hos Guards nowhere."
"Ah! but you see!" answered the Squire, "they weren't called on--and he
might as well say that he was _lef_-tenant onc't in the great Pennsylvaney
militia--not that he wanted to be captain of _this_ company--and he might a
'gone higher, but he wouldn't take it--his former wife, that's dead and
gone, know'd that. And then, feller-citizens, there's a great deal of la'
'bout our militia, and if a captin don't know the la', everything will be
illegal, and _every_ son of you will be called up and court-martialed, and
fined, and 'prisoned, and your property taken and sold; and there ain't no
'peelin' it up, for military laws ain't like other laws, feller-citizens,
they ain't--"
"That's a lie!" exclaimed Turtle.
"_Who_ says that's a lie?" vociferated the Squire, jerking his head around.
"_What's_ a lie?"
"It's _all_ a lie!" repeated Ike.
"Give me that 'ere statement," roared the Squire. It was handed up. "By
authority in me vested, in that 'ere book, I fine you one dollar. It's a
contempt, sir--a contempt upon both a justice of the peace, and a 'spector
of 'lections. I oughter say _two_ dollars--it's a double contempt--I fine
you one dollar, sir; and you can't vote, sir, here, sir, in this 'ere
meetin', sir, while you're under contempt, sir, until you pay the dollar,
sir--and I might sue you for special damages, sir, but _I_ don't care 'bout
that, sir--it is my office that I am protectin';" and the Squire sat down
in the midst of his unfinished speech, filled with wrath.
Squire Longbow was very sincere in his position which he had so confidently
taken. He had been so long a magistrate, and "head man" of Puddleford, and
he had been so closely identified with its public affairs, that he felt
himself always in court, and every personal insult was construed by him
into a contempt. Turtle humored the weakness of the old man, when his
dignity was in jeopardy, and on this occasion he felt no alarm, for he knew
that the fine would never be collected. Turtle owed the Squire more fines
already than he was worth.
Squire Longbow was elected captain of the Puddleford company. When he spoke
so eloquently of the liberty and property of the people being so likely to
be jeopardized by an officer ignorant in the law, he carried his point, for
there was no man in the settlement so mighty as the Squire in that respect,
in the estimation of the public.
In the fall, the Squire exhibited the first Puddleford militia company ever
assembled upon parade to the gaping wonder of its men, women, and children.
He formed his raw recruits into a line by the aid of a board fence, which
was supposed to be nearly straight, in the outskirts of the place. The
Squire was a very blood-thirsty looking captain, after he had mounted his
regimentals. He had turned up a broad-brimmed felt hat, and tacked the
sides by a flaming red cockade made of flannel, and had fastened an ostrich
feather, which he found in the wardrobe of his second wife, Aunt Graves, in
its top, which drooped heavily over his back. His coat was his best
homespun, the same that was woven by the hands of his first wife, and in
which he afterwards courted Aunt Graves, and it was bedizened with stripes
of cloth of every color. His sword was an old-fashioned affair, which he
had loaned of Ike Turtle, and was an heirloom in the Turtle family, it
having been used by his grandfather in the revolutionary war. His waistcoat
was red, and his boot-legs came over his pantaloons, each one supporting a
heavy cotton tassel, which swung to and fro as he walked.
The company was as complete a specimen of ragamuffins as were ever
congregated together. There were three guns to the crowd, and the balance
of the arms were made up of the most murderous implements within reach,
such as axes, pitchforks, &c.
But the Squire did not forget his dignity for a single moment. He put on a
martial air, and felt himself every inch a captain. While his company stood
erect in a line against the board fence, he marched backwards and forwards,
looking at it over his shoulder, with the greatest military pride, while
three dogs, his own property, and who had come out to witness the parade,
trotted after him. When the Squire wheeled to retrace his steps, the dogs
wheeled; when the Squire faced about to take a broadside view of his
company, the dogs sat down on their haunches, and took a view with him.
During the exercises, the Squire accidentally cut a low flourish with his
sword, and upset one of his own curs, who went howling towards the fence,
and lay down in the shade, perfectly satisfied with war, while the other
two, taking warning, retired farther in the rear, where they thought they
could see just as well. The Squire had not studied very deeply military
works on tactics, and his orders were somewhat monotonous, and were mostly
made up of two--"Shoul-_der_ arms!" and "Rest!" Walking a few paces, he
would suddenly wheel and cry, like the cracking of a pistol, in a most
furious tone--"Shoul-_der_ arms!" then taking a few strides, which seemed
to soften his temper, he would turn softly, as if he repented his
harshness, with--"Rest!" And the Puddleford company for an hour shouldered
and unshouldered their arms, to the astonishment of the crowd of urchins
that were looking on.
It had been announced for a week, that the field exercises would come off
in the afternoon, at three o'clock. The ladies were invited to attend at
that hour, to witness the display. Squire Longbow gave as a reason for this
second eruption of patriotism, that the "Hos Guards down on the
Susquehannas allers had field exercises in the arternoon,"--"that, if it
hadn't-er been for field exercises, the Hos Guards wouldn't-er never been
fit for war,"--and Aunt Sonora told Mrs. Swipes, and Mrs. Swipes told Mrs.
Beagle, and they all told somebody else, that the field exercises were
going to be "jist sich as the Squire used to have down on the
Susquehannas." Aunt Sonora, however, sent down her boy Jabez to inquire of
Squire Longbow's wife, if there was a-goin' to be any shootin' there, for
if there was, "she was the last critter that would go--she could tell 'em
that."
At noon the Puddleford company adjourned for one hour, when the Squire
thanked them, "one and all, for their grand military performance, which was
a credit alike unto themselves and their country, and he hop'd they'd be on
hand in the arter-_noon_, 'cordin' to law."
At three o'clock the troops assembled for field exercises, in a ten-acre
lot, and they appeared to be very much recruited. Some eight or ten of the
patriots, however, had evidently been indulging at the "Eagle," and they
did not stand quite plumb. The captain found it very difficult to form them
into a line. Beagle could not possibly shoulder arms without sagging
against the column. Swipes stood much straighter than he did when sober in
the forenoon. He was so anxious to disguise his condition, that he had
planted himself in a most defiant attitude, with one foot advanced, and had
fixed his eyes upon the sky; he went through the exercises in a twitching,
nervous way, as if Longbow was moving him like a puppet by a string. Turtle
felt mischievously well, and the colonel stood as stoical as if he expected
to lay down his life before the enemy in fifteen minutes.
The Squire's three dogs, who had been out during the forenoon, had returned
to see the end of the parade. Thirty or forty women and children were also
present, sitting upon stumps, and hanging upon fences in a very
miscellaneous sort of confusion. Aunt Sonora and Mrs. Longbow had procured
a couple of chairs, and the old lady seated herself, and took up her
knitting. Mrs. Longbow did not mix very much with the crowd, because she
could not forget that her husband was "captin of the day," as she said,
and she and her husband she felt to be one.
The Squire formed the company into a line. "The fust thing to be did,"
exclaimed he, drawing his sword, and swinging it three times around his
head, as a kind of three cheers, and scaring his dogs by this frightful
flourish, repeated before their eyes, and who had not forgotten the
accident of the morning--"the fust thing to be did, feller-sogers, is to
turn a circle."
"To turn a _what_?" roared Turtle from the ranks.
"To turn a circle," repeated the captain, "as the Hos Guards used to do,
down inter the Susquehannas."
"T-h-u-n-d-e-r!!" ejaculated Ike.
"No talking in the ranks--'tis finable--and 'twon't be permitted. We're
under martial law, and that's _very sum_'ry, Mr. Turtle, very _sum_'ry! And
to turn a circle," continued the Squire, "is one-er the most complercated
revolutions ever performed by the Hos Guards. I hereby appoint Mr. Beagle
the centre pin. Mr. Turtle will head the column--Mr. Beagle will stand
still, and the column will sweep round him, to the point from which they
started. Heads up! Shoul-_der_ arms! Ev'ry man to his post!"
The captain drew his sword, and cried terribly, "For-_erd_, men!" Turtle
ran--the man behind him ran--and all ran, helter-skelter, some whooping,
some groaning, and in their sweep they took in a score of ragged boys, and
hurled them upon Aunt Sonora and Mrs. Longbow, who keeled over backwards in
their chairs, their petticoats fluttering, in their somerset, in the face
of the whole company. The Squire, forgetting his own position, when he saw
the position of his second wife, hastened to her rescue, set her up, and
pointed with his sword to the road, and she and Aunt Sonora pushed
desperately for the fence, their hair streaming behind them, bellowing
"Murder!" while the company brought up in the shape of a pot-hook, having
about half described the circle,--Beagle, the "centre-pin," crying to them
to "come on!"
"H-ll!" involuntarily ejaculated the Squire, as he looked upon the
confusion.
"That's swearin'," said Ike from the ranks, "and is agin the statert."
The Squire explained. "He didn't swear as a justis', he swore as a captin',
and captins allers swore on the field-er action--but he'd take that 'ere
oath back.--What do you s'pose the Hos Guards would think of such a
revolution as that 'ere,"--continued the Squire, looking at the huddle
before him, "wouldn't _they_ swear? Do you call that a circle?--Every man
to his post in a line!" and the company straggled back into a column.
Aunt Sonora sat upon the fence, panting with fright, and fanning her
flushed face with her cotton handkerchief. She told Mr. Longbow that "she
know'd that somebody'd be kill'd afore night--these sogers were so
_ker_-less--everybody was so hurly-burly, they'd run anybody right down,
and stomp on 'em; and if she hadn't got out-er the way jist as she did, she
would have been a dead woman, she know'd."
"Now," said the Squire, "we'll try to turn an angle; if you can't turn a
circle, maybe you can turn an angle; and we'll drive a stake to turn it by,
and Mr. Turtle will again head the column."
The stake was driven at the point of the right angle, "where," said the
captain, "you will all turn square around." The column moved forward
solemnly, in a line like a scythe snath, and, reaching the corner, began to
waver. Beagle at last fell headlong over the stake, and the whole company
brought up in a pile around him; whereupon the Squire threw his sword on
the ground, and declared, "he'd throw up his commission--and the country
might go to grass for all him."
Turtle, who had brought about this confusion, "regretted the misfortune. It
was all an accident--Beagle had fallen, and discomboberated the whole
proceedings--accidents would occur on the field--and, in fact, he know'd a
man shot down dead once in the ranks--he guess'd the movement had better be
tried over; the stake, he thought, was a leetle too high."
The Squire said, "it was very discouragin'--the Hos-Guards down on the
Susquehannas turned an angle the fust time tryin'--and on hosses, too. His
fust wife, now dead and gone, know'd that, for she was thar--it was one of
the simplest revolutions in all military tactics. He would like jist to
know what a company would be good for, on a field-er battle, that couldn't
turn an angle? He would jist like to know what they would do if they were
following the enemy through a hilly country, if they couldn't turn an
angle?--they'd all be butcher'd 'fore they could get round to the spot
they'd started for. War was war--and the revolution ought to be did jist as
if we were to-day fightin' for our liberties. He'd like to know what the
Hos Guards would say if he should tell 'em that one of his sogers had
fallen down turnin' an angle! He would throw up his commission afore he'd
tell 'em any such thing."
Beagle said he "stumbled." "Stumbled!" roared the Squire. "You
stumbled!--who ever heard of the Hos Guards stumblin'! Stumbled? by the
great Bonyparte--that ain't swearin', Mr. Turtle--you'd be hung by the
neck, sir, if you stumbled on the field-er battle--it's a hangin' offence,
sir--a hangin' offence, sir. We are under martial law, sir, to-day, sir,
and if it was war time, sir, I'd order you to be stretch'd, sir, in five
minutes, sir, from that 'ere tree, sir--I'd show you war, sir--real war,
sir! bloody war, sir!"
Turtle suggested that a lower stake had better be driven--or the outside
angle of the fence would be still better, that _would_ stand--they could
walk round a fence corner, he knew.
Aunt Sonora "hop'd for massy-sakes they warn't a-goin' to come out of the
field--they ought-er be fenced in--she thought it warn't safe!"
Mrs. Longbow, who had great confidence in her husband, said, "she needn't
be alarm'd any, the capt'n would take care on 'em."
The Squire declared, "he wouldn't try any sich revolution over agin, but he
thought they _could_ march in platoons;" and thereupon he cried, "Company,
form in pla-_toons_!"
Turtle said, "he wasn't any war character, and he didn't know what a
_platoon_ was, but he know'd Injun file."
"Well, Injun file, then," exclaimed the captain; and from Injun file,
Longbow set them around into a hollow square, put the women in the centre,
and he delivered to his troops the address of the day, with uncovered
heads, and in the most affecting silence.
The address was a very patriotic production. The Squire drew heavily from
the great revolutionary war to find inspiring materials to stimulate his
forces. He told them, among other things, that his own grandfather was
"wounded in the hip a-fightin' for his country, and that he draw'd a
pension arterwards as long as he lived. He hop'd they'd all get ready for
the great muster that was a-goin' to come off in a few weeks; for the
gin'ral would be there, then, and a good deal was expected of the
Puddleford company on that occasion." The Squire had forgotten the
unfortunate blunders of the day, in his enthusiasm, or, at any rate, he did
not allude to them, for he said, "he was proud of the soldier-like bearin'
of his men, and the great respect they all seem'd to have for their
capt'n--that their arms were not 'zactly accordin' to la'."
"'Cording to the Lord," whispered Aunt Sonora, horrified, very
audibly--"Hear that."
"'Cording to _la'_," repeated the Squire, who overheard her, "not 'zactly
'cordin' to la', but it is a constructive compliance with the statert, and
will pass muster on the first turn-out;" and, thankin' them all for their
attendance, he adjourned the company _siney die_.