The retirement of Wyanokee from her temporary presidency in the grand
council of the confederated nations, was the signal for beginning the
general carouse, by which such meetings were usually terminated. Two
huge bucks, with their throats cut, had been some time suspended from a
pole laid across a pair of stout forked saplings, driven into the ground
at the distance of a few feet from each other; these were now brought
into the centre of the area, and quickly deprived of their skins. The
neighbourhood of civilized man had already introduced that bane of
savage morals, whiskey; and plentiful supplies of this, together with
pipes and tobacco, were now served to the representatives. A general
scene of rude and savage debauch immediately followed. Meat was broiled
or roasted upon the coals--whiskey was handed round in calabashes, while
the more gay and volatile members of the assemblage found an outlet for
their animated feelings in the violent and energetic movements of the
Indian dance. The sounds which issued from the forest were a mingled din
of tinkling metals--rattling bones, and the monotonous humming of the
singers, occasionally enlivened by a sharp shrill whoop from some young
savage, as his animal spirits became excited by the exercise. The squaws
performed the part of menials, and bore wood, water, and corn, to supply
the feast for their lords and masters.
The new queen of the nation, upon whose ground these carousals were
held, retired to her own wigwam, as much disgusted with the moral
blindness and depravity of the deputies, as with the commencing revels.
Besides her disgust of what was left behind, there was an attraction for
her in her own sylvan palace, which, till a few hours back, it had sadly
wanted in her eyes; not that she approached it with any hope that her
passion would now or ever meet with a return from its object--but still
there was a melancholy pleasure in holding communion with one so far
superior to the rude, untutored beings she had just left. She felt also
a longing desire, not only to learn more of the mysterious transactions
of which she had gathered some vague indications from Bacon's discourse,
but to take advantage of present circumstances in returning some of the
many favours heaped upon herself by her white friends. There was a
nobler motive for this than mere gratitude; she wished to show to Bacon
and Virginia, that she could sacrifice her own happiness to promote
theirs. She felt now satisfied that both of them had discovered the
existence of her passion, long before she was aware of the impropriety
of its exhibition according to civilized usages, and she was anxious to
evince to them how nobly an Indian maiden could cover this false step
with honour. Full of these ennobling, and as it proved, delusive ideas,
she entered the wigwam with a mien and step which would not have
disgraced a far more regal palace.
Bacon was found upon a mat, reclining in melancholy mood against the
side of the apartment, intently eyeing the movements of the savages upon
the green. She followed his eye for a moment in shame and confusion for
the spectacle exhibited by the men of her own race.
"Do you mark the difference," said Bacon, "between the dances in yonder
forest and those at Jamestown? Why do not the women join in the
merry-making? We consider them worthy to partake of all our happiness."
"Ay, 'tis true, there is no Virginia there!"
His brow settled into a look of stern displeasure and offence, as he
replied, "Would you renew the scenes of the last night?"
"No, Wyanokee desires not to give pain, but to remove it--as she came
here now to show. You heard me claim you last night as a husband."--A
crimson tint struggled with the darker hue of her cheek, as she forced
herself to proceed.--"But it was only to save you from the cruel hands
of my countrymen. You may, therefore, give up all uneasiness on that
subject--I know well that the Great Spirit has decreed it otherwise than
I desired, and I submit without a murmur. It is useless for me to
conceal that I had learned too quickly to feel the difference between a
youth of your race, and one of yon rude beings; but it was more owing to
my ignorance of your customs than any want of proper maidenly reserve.
That is now passed, you are a married man, and as such I can converse
with you in confidence."
"Yes," said Bacon, a bitter smile playing over his countenance, "I am
married to stern adversity! 'Tis a solemn contract, and binds me to a
bride from whom I may not easily be divorced. Death may cut the knot,
but no other minister of justice can. I must say too, that the
ceremonies of last night were fitting and proper. I wooed my bride
through earth, air, and water; in thunder, lightning, and in rain. Nor
was she coy or prudish. She came to my arms with a right willing grace,
and clings to me through evil and through good report. I am hers, wholly
hers for ever. It is meet that I should learn to love her at once. Ay,
and I do hug her to my heart. Is she not my own? do we not learn to love
our own deformities? then why not learn to love our own sorrows?
Doubtless we shall be very happy--a few little matrimonial bickerings at
first, perhaps, but these will soon be merged in growing congeniality.
Man cannot long live with any companion, without bestowing upon it his
affection; the snake, the spider, the toad, the scorpion, all have been
loved and cherished: shall I not then love my bride? Is there not a
hallowed memory around her birth? was she not nurtured and trained by
these very hands? Is there not wild romance too, in her adventures and
our loves? Is she not faithful and true? yea, and young too! not coy
perhaps, but constant and devoted."
Although this language was prompted by very different states, both of
heart and head, from that of the preceding night, yet its literal
construction by the Indian maiden betrayed her into very little more
understanding of its import. She better comprehended the language of his
countenance. That, she saw, indicated the bitterness of death, but the
cause was still a mystery. She therefore continued her kind endeavours
with something more of doubt and embarrassment. "My intention was to
offer you and Virginia a home as soon as these warlike men are pacified
and gone--that you might come here and live with me until her grand
uncle will receive her and you. Oh, it will make Wyanokee very happy."
She would, no doubt, have continued in this strain for some time, but
his impatience could be contained no longer. "Is it possible that you do
not yet understand the depth and hopelessness of my misery? Know it then
in all its horrors. I was half married last night to my own half sister!
Did fate, fortune or hell ever more ingeniously contrive to blight the
happiness of mortal man at one fell blow? View it for a moment. There
was the game beautifully contrived--the stake was apparently trifling,
but the prize glittered with India's richest rubies--the very thoughts
of them conjured up scenes of fairy land. The richest fantasies of
romance sparkled before the eye of the player. The wildest dream of
earthly happiness allured him to each renewed attempt. First a little
was staked--then another portion--then another to insure the two former,
and so on until houses and lands and goods and chattels--yea and life
itself, or all that made it valuable, were hazarded upon the throw. Lo,
he wins! Joy unutterable fills his breast--he is about to place the
jewels next his heart, but behold they turn into scorpions. Rich and
beautiful in all their former ruby colour--but there is a fearful
talismanic power in their beauty. There is a deadly poison in the sight!
They charm to kill. Lay them not near the heart or else the great
magician, the king of evil--the prince of darkness himself, has bought
you body and soul! That was my case. I won the glorious stake, I had it
here (striking his breast), yea, and have it now, and the devil is
tempting me to lay it next my heart. I have wrestled with him all the
night, but again he is at work. See that you do not help him!"
Again she was lost in reverential awe. As his paroxysm by slow degrees
returned, she exhibited in the mirror of her own countenance the
passion, the wild enthusiasm, reflected from his, until the final charge
to herself, when she was overcome with wonder and fear. His own
preternaturally quick perceptions caught the effect produced, and he
again folded his arms and leaned back in grim and sullen silence, but
with the keen eye of the serpent watching the changing countenance of
his auditor. She was sunk in abstraction for some moments, and then, as
if rather thinking aloud than communing with another, she said, "Is it
possible?"
"Yea, as true as that the serpent infused his poison into the ear of the
mother of mankind. As true as that man was the first creature that died
on the face of the earth by the hands of his fellow. As true as death
and hell! As true as that there is a hereafter. Happiness is negative!
Misery positive. There is always a subtle doubt lingering upon our most
substantial scenes of happiness; but with misery it is slow, certain and
enduring; the proof conclusive and damning. It is more real than our
existence, and exists when it is no more. Our nerves are strung to
vibrate to the touches of harmony and happiness only when played upon by
inspirations from above, but they vibrate in discord to the earth, the
air, the winds, the waves, the thunder--the lightning. They are rudely
handled by men, beasts, reptiles, devils, by famine, disease and death.
Am I not a wretched monument of its truth? Are not these miserable and
faded trappings, the funeral emblems of my moral decease? Am I not a
living tomb of my own soul? A memento of him that was, with an
inscription on my forehead, 'Here walks the body of Nathaniel Bacon,
whose soul was burned out on the ever memorable night of his own
wedding, by an incendiary in the mortal habiliments of his own Father,
with a torch lit up in pandemonium itself? His body still walks the
earth as a beacon and a warning to those who would commit incest!'"
The door was darkened for a moment, and in the next the Recluse stood
before him. His giant limbs lost none of their extent or proportions as
viewed through the dim light which fell in scanty and checkered masses
from the insterstices of the sylvan walls. He stood in the light of the
only door,--his features wan and cadaverous, and his countenance
wretchedly haggard. "Why lingerest thou here in the lap of the tawny
maiden, when thy countrymen will so soon need the assistance of thy arm?
This night the torch of savage warfare and cruelty will in all
probability be lighted up in the houses of thy friends and kindred. Is
it becoming, is it manly in thee to seek these effeminate pastimes, in
order to drown the images of thy own idle fancy? If thou hast
unconsciously erred, and thereby cruelly afflicted thy nearest kindred,
is this the way to repair the evil? Set thou them the example! Be a
man--the son of a soldier. Thy father before thee has suffered tortures
of the mind, and privations of the body, to which thine are but the
feeble finger-aches of childhood as compared to the agonies of a painful
and protracted death. Rouse thyself from thy unmanly stupor, and hie
thee hence to the protection of those who should look up to thee. Be not
anxious for me, maiden; I see thy furtive glances at the besotted men
of thy race, and thence to me. I have long watched their movements. They
see me not; they will attempt no injury--and if they should their blows
would fall upon one reckless of danger--who has nought to gain or
lose,--who has long had his lights trimmed, and lamp burning, ready for
the welcome summons."
When he first entered the wigwam, Bacon sprang upon his feet, and gazed
upon the unwelcome apparition as if he doubted his humanity; but as his
hollow and sepulchral voice fell upon his ear in the well known, deep
excited intonations of the chapel, he moved backward, his hands clasped,
until his shoulders rested against the wall. There, shuddering with
emotion, he gazed earnestly and in silence upon his visiter, whose words
fell upon an indiscriminating ear. The Recluse perceived something of
his condition as he continued, "Hearest thou not?--seest thou not? Rouse
thee from this unmanly weakness. I saw thy dead horse upon the moor. I
will leave thee mine at the head of the Chickahominy Swamp. When night
closes upon yonder brutal scene, mount and ride as if for thy life, even
then thou mayst be too late! Remember! This night be thou in Jamestown!"
Having thus spoken, he stooped through the door, and vanished among the
trees behind the wigwam, as he had come. Bacon still gazed upon the
place where he had been, as if he still occupied the spot, his eyelids
never closing upon the distended iris, until he fell upon the floor in
a swoon. Such restoratives as an Indian wigwam afforded, were speedily
administered, and very soon the desired effect was produced. While he
lay thus worn down by the sufferings produced by the tortures of the
previous night, and the cruel excitement of his feelings, Wyanokee
discovered, as she was bathing his temples, the small gold locket, which
he had worn suspended from his neck, since the death of Mr. Fairfax.
Apparently it contained nothing but the plaited hair and the inscription
already mentioned. She caught it with childlike eagerness, and turned it
from side to side, with admiring glances, when her finger touched a
spring and it flew open; the interior exhibited to view the features of
a young and lovely female.
At this juncture Bacon revived. His countenance was pale and haggard
from the exhaustion of mental and bodily sufferings. His perceptions
seemed clearer, but his heart was burdened and oppressed--he longed for
speedy death to terminate the wretched strife. The prospect was dark and
lowering in whatever direction he cast his thoughts; no light of hope
broke in upon his soul--all before him seemed a dreary joyless waste. In
this mood he accidentally felt the open trinket within the facings of
his doublet, and inserting his hand he drew it forth. His head was
elevated instantly, his eyes distended and his whole countenance
exhibited the utmost astonishment. His first emotion was any thing but
pleasant--as if he had drawn from his bosom one of his own figurative
scorpions, but this was speedily succeeded by one of a different nature.
The first sensation of pleasure which he had felt since he left
Jamestown beamed upon his mind; it was mingled with the most unbounded
surprise; but quick as thought the light of hope broke in upon his dark
and cheerless prospects. Again and again the picture was closely
scrutinized, but with the same conviction, never before had he beheld
that face. It was resplendent with smiles and beauty. The dark hazel
eyes seemed to beam upon him with affectionate regard. The auburn
tresses almost fluttering in the breeze, so warm and mellow were the
lights and shadows. But what rivetted his attention was the want of
resemblance in the picture to the lady whom he had been so recently and
so painfully taught to believe his mother. The latter had light flaxen
ringlets and blue eyes, and the _tout ensemble_ of the features were
totally dissimilar. He imagined he saw a far greater resemblance between
the picture and himself, and hence the ray of hope. But in the place of
despair came feverish suspense--he now longed again to meet the Recluse,
whose presence had so lately filled him with horror. His mind sought in
vain within its own resources for means to bring the question to an
immediate issue. Was he the first-born son of Mrs. Fairfax or not?
Perhaps Brian O'Reily could tell something of the picture, or had seen
the original. No sooner had this faint, glimmering prospect of
unravelling the mystery dawned upon his mind, than he was seized with
the most feverish desire to set out for Jamestown.
The savages still kept up the carouse, but it would be hazardous in the
extreme, as he was assured by his hostess, to attempt to leave Orapacs
until the conclusion of the feast, which perhaps would last till night.
At that time they were all to proceed to the Powhatan domain. He was
compelled therefore to content himself with reading the lineaments of
the interesting countenance just opened to his view.
Upon what a frail foundation will a despairing man build up his fallen
castles in the air. Such was the occupation of our hero until the light
of the sun had vanished over the western hills. He lay upon his mat in
the twilight gloom, indulging in vague uncertain reveries. He had
examined the picture so long, so intently, and under such a morbid
excitement of the imagination, that he supposed himself capable of
recollecting the features. He had called up dim and misty shadows of
memory (or those of the imagination nearly resembling them) from a
period wrapped in obscurity and darkness. He endeavoured to go back step
by step to his years of childhood, until his excited mind became
completely bewildered among the fading recollections of long passed
days. As the rippling waters of the purling stream mingled with the
monotonous whistling of the evening breeze, his versatile imagination
fell into a kindred train. The music of the nursery, by which his
childish struggles had been lulled to repose, floated over his memory
in the tenderest and purest melancholy. Who that has music in his soul
has not, at a like season and hour, refreshed his heart with these early
impressions? Nor are they entirely confined to an inviting melancholy
mood and the hour of twilight. In the full vigour of physical and mental
power, and when the spirits are bounding and elastic--in the midst of
dramatic representations or the wildest creations of Italian musical
genius, these stores of memory's richest treasures will suddenly flood
the soul, touched perhaps by the vibration of some kindred chord.
Bacon's harassed mind was refreshed by the tender and softened mood into
which he had fallen. Besides, he was now stimulated by the glimmering
dawn of hope. When therefore darkness had completely covered the face of
the land, he arose to go upon his mission, a different being. Although
his own emotions on parting were faint compared to those of Wyanokee,
they were yet sorrowful and tender. He lamented the lot of the Indian
maiden, and respected the virtues and accomplishments which elevated her
so far above those by whom she was surrounded. He bade her adieu with
the most heartfelt gratitude for her services, and aspirations for her
welfare.
When he stepped from the wigwam he was astonished to see the huge fires,
upon which they had cooked the feast, still burning with undiminished
brilliancy, and still more startled to observe twenty or more savages
lying drunk around them, and half as many sober ones holding vigils
over their slumbers. He immediately changed his intended direction, and
skirted round the forest in which they lay, so as to arrive at the place
pointed out by the Recluse by a circuitous route.
When he came opposite to the fires, and half way upon his circuit, he
was not a little alarmed to hear the astounding war-whoop yelled by one
of the sentinels. Casting his eyes in that direction he saw that all the
guard were on the _qui vive_, and some of the slumberers slowly shaking
off their stupidity. He supposed that one of the sentinels had heard his
footsteps, and thus alarmed the rest. Taking advantage of the trees, and
the distance he had already gained, he was enabled to elude their
vigilant senses. But when he came to the spot pointed out by the
Recluse, a greater difficulty presented itself. The horse was already
gone, but not taken by the one who brought him there, as he saw
evidently from the impressions of his feet in the earth, where he had
stood most of the afternoon. He soon came to the conclusion that the
Indians had found and carried him off. This was the more probable as
they adjourned their council about the time he must have been taken. His
call to Jamestown was too urgent to be postponed, and however feeble in
body he determined to exert his utmost strength to arrive there during
the night.