"He sleeps forgetful of his once bright flame
He has no feeling of the glory gone;
He has no eye to catch the mounting flame
That once in transport drew him on;
He lies in dull oblivious dreams, nor cares
Who the wreathed laurel bears."
Percival.
The appearance of a place in which the remainder of one's life is to be
past is always noted with interest on a first visit. Thus it was that
Mrs. Willoughby had been observant and silent from the moment the
captain informed her that they had passed the line of his estate, and
were approaching the spot where they were to dwell. The stream was so
small, and the girding of the forest so close, that there was little
range for the sight; but the anxious wife and mother could perceive
that the hills drew together, at this point, the valley narrowing
essentially, that rocks began to appear in the bed of the river, and
that the growth of the timber indicated fertility and a generous soil.
When the boat stopped, the little stream came brawling down a ragged
declivity, and a mill, one so arranged as to grind and saw, both in a
very small way, however, gave the first signs of civilization she had
beheld since quitting the last hut near the Mohawk. After issuing a few
orders, the captain drew his wife's arm through his own, and hurried up
the ascent, with an eagerness that was almost boyish, to show her what
had been done towards the improvement of the "Knoll." There is a
pleasure in diving into a virgin forest and commencing the labours of
civilization, that has no exact parallel in any other human occupation.
That of building, or of laying out grounds, has certainly some
resemblance to it, but it is a resemblance so faint and distant as
scarcely to liken the enjoyment each produces. The former approaches
nearer to the feeling of creating, and is far more pregnant with
anticipations and hopes, though its first effects are seldom agreeable,
and are sometimes nearly hideous. Our captain, however, had escaped
most of these last consequences, by possessing the advantage of having
a clearing, without going through the usual processes of chopping and
burning; the first of which leaves the earth dotted, for many years,
with unsightly stumps, while the rains and snows do not wash out the
hues of the last for several seasons.
An exclamation betrayed the pleasure with which Mrs. Willoughby got her
first glimpse of the drained pond. It was when she had clambered to the
point of the rocks, where the stream began to tumble downward into the
valley below. A year had done a vast deal for the place. The few stumps
and stubs which had disfigured the basin when it was first laid bare,
had all been drawn by oxen, and burned. This left the entire surface of
the four hundred acres smooth and fit for the plough. The soil was the
deposit of centuries, and the inclination, from the woods to the
stream, was scarcely perceptible to the eye. In fact, it was barely
sufficient to drain the drippings of the winter's snows. The form of
the area was a little irregular; just enough so to be picturesque;
while the inequalities were surprisingly few and trifling. In a word,
nature had formed just such a spot as delights the husbandman's heart,
and placed it beneath a sun which, while its fierceness is relieved by
winters of frost and snow, had a power to bring out all its latent
resources.
Trees had been felled around the whole area, with the open spaces
filled by branches, in a way to form what is termed a brush fence. This
is not a sightly object, and the captain had ordered the line to be
drawn _within_ the woods, so that the visible boundaries of the
open land were the virgin forest itself. His men had protested against
this, a fence, however unseemly, being in their view an indispensable
accessory to civilization. But the captain's authority, if not his
better taste, prevailed; and the boundary of felled trees and brush was
completely concealed in the back-ground of woods. As yet, there was no
necessity for cross-fences, the whole open space lying in a single
field. One hundred acres were in winter wheat. As this grain had been
got in the previous autumn, it was now standing on the finest and
driest of the soil, giving an air of rich fertility to the whole basin.
Grass-seed had been sown along both banks of the stream, and its waters
were quietly flowing between two wide belts of fresh verdure, the young
plants having already started in that sheltered receptacle of the sun's
rays. Other portions of the flat showed signs of improvement, the
plough having actually been at work for quite a fortnight.
All this was far more than even the captain had expected, and much more
than his wife had dared to hope. Mrs. Willoughby had been accustomed to
witness the slow progress of a new settlement; but never before had she
seen what might be done on a beaver-dam. To her all appeared like
magic, and her first question would have been to ask her husband to
explain what had been done with the trees and stumps, had not her
future residence caught her eye. Captain Willoughby had left his orders
concerning the house, previously to quitting the Knoll; and he was now
well pleased to perceive that they had been attended to. As this spot
will prove the scene of many of the incidents we are bound to relate,
it may be proper, here, to describe it, at some length.
The hillock that rose out of the pond, in the form of a rocky little
island, was one of those capricious formations that are often met with
on the surface of the earth. It stood about thirty rods from the
northern side of the area, very nearly central as to its eastern and
western boundaries, and presented a slope inclining towards the south.
Its greatest height was at its northern end, where it rose out of the
rich alluvion of the soil, literally a rock of some forty feet in
perpendicular height, having a summit of about an acre of level land,
and falling off on its three sides; to the east and west precipitously;
to the south quite gently and with regularity. It was this accidental
formation which had induced the captain to select the spot as the site
of his residence; for dwelling so far from any post, and in a place so
difficult of access, something like military defences were merely
precautions of ordinary prudence. While the pond remained, the islet
was susceptible of being made very strong against any of the usual
assaults of Indian warfare; and, now that the basin was drained, it had
great advantages for the same purpose. The perpendicular rock to the
north, even overhung the plain. It was almost inaccessible; while the
formation on the other sides, offered singular facilities, both for a
dwelling and for security. All this the captain, who was so familiar
with the finesse of Indian stratagem, had resolved to improve in the
following manner:
In the first place, he directed the men to build a massive wall of
stone, for a hundred and fifty feet in length, and six feet in height.
This stretched in front of the perpendicular rock, with receding walls
to its verge. The latter were about two hundred feet in length, each.
This was enclosing an area of two hundred, by one hundred and fifty
feet, within a blind wall of masonry. Through this wall there was only
a single passage; a gateway, in the centre of its southern face. The
materials had all been found on the hill itself, which was well covered
with heavy stones. Within this wall, which was substantially laid, by a
Scotch mason, one accustomed to the craft, the men had erected a
building of massive, squared, pine timber, well secured by cross
partitions. This building followed the wall in its whole extent, was
just fifteen feet in elevation, without the roof, and was composed, in
part, by the wall itself; the latter forming nearly one-half its
height, on the exterior. The breadth of this edifice was only twenty
feet, clear of the stones and wood-work; leaving a court within of
about one hundred by one hundred and seventy-five feet in extent. The
roof extended over the gateway even; so that the space within was
completely covered, the gates being closed. This much had been done
during the preceding fall and winter; the edifice presenting an
appearance of rude completeness on the exterior. Still it had a sombre
and goal-like air, there being nothing resembling a window visible; no
aperture, indeed, on either of its outer faces, but the open gateway,
of which the massive leaves were finished, and placed against the
adjacent walls, but which were not yet hung. It is scarcely necessary
to say, this house resembled barracks, more than an ordinary dwelling.
Mrs. Willoughby stood gazing at it, half in doubt whether to admire or
to condemn, when a voice, within a few yards, suddenly drew her
attention in another direction.
"How you like him?" asked Nick, who was seated on a stone, at the
margin of the stream, washing his feet, after a long day's hunt. "No
t'ink him better dan beaver skin? Cap'in know all 'bout him; now he
give Nick some more last quit-rent?"
"_Last_, indeed, it will be, then, Nick; for I have already paid
you _twice_ for your rights."
"Discovery wort' great deal, cap'in--see what great man he make pale-
face."
"Ay, but _your_ discovery, Nick, is not of that sort."
"What sort, den?" demanded Nick, with the rapidity of lightning. "Give
him back 'e beaver, if you no like he discovery. Grad to see 'em back,
ag'in; skin higher price dan ever."
"Nick, you're a cormorant, if there ever was one in this world! Here--
there is a dollar for you; the quit-rent is paid for this year, at
least. It ought to be for the last time."
"Let him go for all summer, cap'in. Yes, Nick wonderful commerant! no
such eye he got, among Oneida!"
Here the Tuscarora left the side of the stream, and came up on the
rock, shaking hands, good-humouredly, with Mrs. Willoughby, who rather
liked the knave; though she knew him to possess most of the vices of
his class.
"He very han'som beaver-dam," said Nick, sweeping his hand gracefully
over the view; "bye 'nd bye, he'll bring potatoe, and corn, and cider--
all 'e squaw want. Cap'in got good fort, too. Old soldier love fort;
like to live in him."
"The day may come, Nick, when that fort may serve us all a good turn,
out here in the wilderness," Mrs. Willoughby observed, in a somewhat
melancholy tone; for her tender thoughts naturally turned towards her
youthful and innocent daughters.
The Indian gazed at the house, with that fierce intentness which
sometimes glared, in a manner that had got to be, in its ordinary
aspects, dull and besotted. There was a startling intelligence in his
eye, at such moments; the feelings of youth and earlier habit, once
more asserting their power. Twenty years before, Nick had been foremost
on the war-path; and what was scarcely less honourable, among the
wisest around the council-fire. He was born a chief, and had made
himself an outcast from his tribe, more by the excess of ungovernable
passions, than from any act of base meanness.
"Cap'm tell Nick, now, what he mean by building such house, out here,
among ole beaver bones?" he said, sideling up nearer to his employer,
and gazing with some curiosity into his face.
"What do I mean, Nick?--Why I mean to have a place of safety to put the
heads of my wife and children in, at need. The road to Canada is not so
long, but a red-skin can make one pair of moccasins go over it. Then,
the Oneidas and Mohawks are not all children of heaven."
"No pale-face rogue, go about, I s'pose?" said Nick, sarcastically.
"Yes, there are men of that class, who are none the worse for being
locked out of one's house, at times. But, what do _you_ think of
the hut?--You know I call the place the 'Hut,' the Hutted Knoll."
"He hole plenty of beaver, if you cotch him!--But no water left, and he
all go away. Why you make him stone, first; den you make him wood,
a'ter; eh? Plenty rock; plenty tree."
"Why, the stone wall can neither be cut away, nor set fire to, Nick;
that's the reason. I took as much stone as was necessary, and then used
wood, which is more easily worked, and which is also drier."
"Good--Nick t'ought just dat. How you get him water if Injen come?"
"There's the stream, that winds round the foot of the hill, Nick, as
you see; and then there is a delicious spring, within one hundred yards
of the very gate."
"Which side of him?" asked Nick, with his startling rapidity.
"Why, here, to the left of the gate, and a little to the right of the
large stone--"
"No--no," interrupted the Indian, "no left--no right--which side--
_inside_ gate; _outside_ gate?"
"Oh!--the spring is outside the gate, certainly; but means might be
found to make a covered way to it; and then the stream winds round
directly underneath the rocks, behind the house, and wafer could be
raised from _that_, by means of a rope. Our rifles would count for
something, too, in drawing water, as well as in drawing blood."
"Good.--Rifle got long arm. He talk so, Ingin mind him. When you t'ink
red-skin come ag'in your fort, cap'in, now you got him done?"
"A long time first, I hope, Nick. We are at peace with France, again;
and I see no prospect of any new quarrel, very soon. So long as the
French and English are at peace, the red men will not dare to touch
either."
"Dat true as missionary! What a soldier do, cap'in, if so much peace?
Warrior love a war-path."
"I wish it were not so, Nick. But _my_ hatchet is buried, I hope,
for ever."
"Nick hope cap'in know where to find him, if he want to? Very bad to
put anyt'ing where he forget; partic'larly tomahawk. Sometime quarrel
come, like rain, when you don't tink."
"Yes, that also cannot be denied. Yet, I fear the next quarrel will be
among ourselves, Nick.--The government at home, and the people of the
colonies, are getting to have bad blood between them."
"Dat very queer! Why pale-face mo'der and pale-face darter no love one
anoder, like red-skin?"
"Really, Nick, you are somewhat interrogating this evening; but, my
squaw must be a little desirous of seeing the inside of her house, as
well as its outside, and I must refer you to that honest fellow,
yonder, for an answer. His name is Mike; I hope he and you will always
be good friends."
So saying, the captain nodded in a friendly manner, and led Mrs.
Willoughby towards the hut, taking a foot-path that was already trodden
firm, and which followed the sinuosities of the stream, to which it
served as a sort of a dyke. Nick took the captain at his word, and
turning about he met the county Leitrim-man, with an air of great
blandness, thrusting out a hand, in the pale-face fashion, as a sign of
amity, saying, at the same time--
"How do, Mike?--Sago--Sago--grad you come--good fellow to drink Santa
Cruz, wid Nick."
"How do, Mike!" exclaimed the other, looking at the Tuscarora with
astonishment, for this was positively the first red man the Irishman
had ever seen. "How do Mike! Ould Nick be ye?--well--ye look pretty
much as I expected to see you--pray, how did ye come to know _my_
name?"
"Nick know him--know every t'ing. Grad to see you, Mike--hope we live
together like good friend, down yonder, up here, over dere."
"Ye do, do ye! Divil burn me, now, if I want any sich company. Ould
Nick's yer name, is it?"
"Old Nick--young Nick--saucy Nick; all one, all to'ther. Make no odd
what you call; I come."
"Och, yer a handy one! Divil trust ye, but ye'll come when you arn't
wanted, or yer not of yer father's own family. D'ye live hereabouts,
masther Ould Nick?"
"Live here--out yonder--in he hut, in he wood--where he want. Make no
difference to Nick."
Michael now drew back a pace or two, keeping his eyes fastened on the
other intently, for he actually expected to see some prodigious and
sudden change in his appearance. When he thought he had got a good
position for manly defence or rapid retreat, as either might become
necessary the county Leitrim-man put on a bolder front and resumed the
discourse.
"If it's so indifferent to ye where ye dwell," asked Mike, "why can't
you keep at home, and let a body carry these cloaks and bundles of the
missuses, out yonder to the house wither she's gone?"
"Nick help carry 'em. Carry t'ing for dat squaw hundred time."
"That what! D'ye mane Madam Willoughby by yer blackguard name?"
"Yes; cap'in wife--cap'in squaw, mean him. Carry bundle, basket,
hundred time for him."
"The Lord preserve me, now, from sich atrocity and impudence!" laying
down the cloaks and bundles, and facing the Indian, with an appearance
of great indignation--"Did a body ever hear sich a liar! Why, Misther
Ould Nick, Madam Willoughby wouldn't let the likes of ye touch the ind
of her garments. You wouldn't get the liberty to walk in the same path
with her, much less to carry her bundles. I'll answer for it, ye're a
great liar, now, ould Nick, in the bottom of your heart."
"Nick great liar," answered the Indian, good-naturedly; for he so well
knew this was his common reputation, that he saw no use in denying it.
"What of dat? Lie good sometime."
"That's another! Oh, ye animal; I've a great mind to set upon ye at
once, and see what an honest man can do wid ye, in fair fight! If I
only knew what ye'd got about yer toes, now, under them fine-looking
things ye wear for shoes, once, I'd taich ye to talk of the missus, in
this style."
"Speak as well as he know how. Nick never been to school. Call 'e
squaw, _good_ squaw. What want more?"
"Get out! If ye come a foot nearer, I'll be at ye, like a dog upon a
bull, though ye gore me. What brought ye into this paiceful sittlement,
where nothing but virtue and honesty have taken up their abode?"
What more Mike might have said is not known, as Nick caught a sign from
the captain, and went loping across the flat, at his customary gait,
leaving the Irishman standing on the defensive, and, to own the truth,
not sorry to be rid of him. Unfortunately for the immediate
enlightenment of Mike's mind, Joel overheard the dialogue, and
comprehending its meaning, with his native readiness, he joined his
companion in a mood but little disposed to clear up the error.
"Did ye see that _crathure_?" asked Mike, with emphasis.
"Sartain--he is often seen here, at the Hut. He may be said to live
here, half his time."
"A pritty hut, then, ye must have of it! Why do ye tolerate the
vagabond? He's not fit for Christian society."
"Oh! he's good company, sometimes, Mike. When you know him better,
you'll like him better. Come; up with the bundles, and let us follow.
The captain is looking after us, as you see."
"Well may he look, to see us in sich company!--Will he har-r-m the
missus?"
"Not he. I tell you, you'll like him yourself when you come to know
him."
"If I do, burn me! Why, he says _himself_, that he's Ould Nick,
and I'm sure I never fancied the crathure but it was in just some such
for-r-m. Och! he's ill-looking enough, for twenty Ould Nicks."
Lest the reader get an exaggerated notion of Michael's credulity, it
may be well to say that Nick had painted a few days before, in a fit of
caprice, and that one-half of his face was black, and the other a deep
red, while each of his eyes was surrounded with a circle of white, all
of which had got to be a little confused in consequence of a night or
two of orgies, succeeded by mornings in which the toilet had been
altogether neglected. His dress, too, a blanket with tawdry red and
yellow trimmings, with ornamented leggings and moccasins to correspond,
had all aided in maintaining the accidental mystification. Mike
followed his companion, growling out his discontent, and watching the
form of the Indian, as the latter still went loping over the flat,
having passed the captain, with a message to the barns.
"I'll warrant ye, now, the captain wouldn't tolerate such a crathure,
but he's sent him off to the woods, as ye may see, like a divil, as he
is! To think of such a thing's spakeing to the missus! Will I fight
him?--That will I, rather than he'll say an uncivil word to the likes
of her! He's claws they tell me, though he kapes them so well covered
in his fine brogues; divil burn me, but I'd grapple him by the toes."
Joel now saw how deep was Michael's delusion, and knowing it
_must_ soon be over, he determined to make a merit of necessity, by
letting his friend into the truth, thereby creating a confidence that
would open the way to a hundre'd future mischievous scenes.
"Claws!" he repeated, with an air of surprise--"And why do you think an
Injin has claws, Mike?"
"An Injin! D'ye call that miscoloured crathure an Injin Joel. Isn't it
one of yer yankee divils?"
"Out upon you, for an Irish ninny. Do you think the captain would
_board_ a devil! The fellow's a Tuscarora, and is as well known here
as the owner of the Hut himself. It's Saucy Nick."
"Yes, saucy Ould Nick--had it from his very mout' and even the divil
would hardly be such a blackguard as to lie about his own name. Och!
he's a roarer, sure enough; and then for the tusks you mintion, I
didn't see 'em, with my eyes; but the crathure has a mouth that might
hould a basket-full."
Joel now perceived that he must go more seriously to work to undeceive
his companion. Mike honestly believed he had met an American devil, and
it required no little argumentation to persuade him of the contrary. We
shall leave Joel employed in this difficult task, in which he finally
succeeded, and follow the captain and his wife to the hut.
The lord and lady of the manor examined everything around their future
residence, with curious eyes. Jamie Allen, the Scotch mason mentioned,
was standing in front of the house, to hear what might be said of his
wall, while two or three other mechanics betrayed some such agitation
as the tyro in literature manifests, ere he learns what the critics
have said of his first work. The exterior gave great satisfaction to
the captain. The wall was not only solid and secure, but it was really
handsome. This was in some measure owing to the quality of the stones,
but quite as much to Jamie's dexterity in using them. The wall and
chimneys, of the latter of which there were no less than six, were all
laid in lime, too; it having been found necessary to burn some of the
material to plaster the interior. Then the gates were massive, being
framed in oak, filled in with four-inch plank, and might have resisted
a very formidable assault. Their strong iron hinges were all in their
places, but the heavy job of hanging had been deferred to a leisure
moment, when all the strength of the manor might be collected for that
purpose. There they stood, inclining against the wall, one on each side
of the gateway, like indolent sentinels on post, who felt too secure
from attack to raise their eyes.
The different mechanics crowded round the captain, each eager to show
his own portion of what had been done. The winter had not been wasted,
but, proper materials being in abundance, and on the spot, captain
Willoughby had every reason to be satisfied with what he got for his
money. Completely shut out from the rest of the world, the men had
worked cheerfully and with little interruption; for their labours
composed their recreation. Mrs. Willoughby found the cart of the
building her family was to occupy, with the usual offices, done and
furnished. This comprised all the front on the-eastern side of the
gateway, and most of the wing, in the same half, extending back to the
cliff. It is true, the finish was plain; but everything was
comfortable. The ceilings were only ten feet high certainly, but it was
thought prodigious in the colony in that day; and then the plastering
of Jamie was by no means as unexceptionable as his stone-work; still
every room had its two coats, and white-wash gave them a clean and
healthful aspect. The end of the wing that came next the cliff was a
laundry, and a pump was fitted, by means of which water was raised from
the rivulet. Next came the kitchen, a spacious and comfortable room of
thirty by twenty feet; an upper-servant's apartment succeeded; after
which were the bed-rooms of the family a large parlour, and a library,
or office, for the captain. As the entire range, on this particular
side of the house, extended near or quite two hundred and fifty feet,
there was no want of space or accommodation.
The opposite, or western half of the edifice, was devoted to more
homely uses. It contained an eating-room and divers sleeping-rooms far
the domestics and labourers, besides store-rooms, garners, and
_omnium gatherums_ of all sorts. The vast ranges of garrets, too,
answered for various purposes of household and farming economy. All the
windows, and sundry doors, opened into the court, while the whole of
the exterior wall, both wooden and stone, presented a perfect blank, in
the way of outlets. It was the captain's intention, however, to cut
divers loops through the logs, at some convenient moment, so that men
stationed in the garrets might command the different faces of the
structure with their musketry. But, like the gates, these means of
defence were laid aside for a more favourable opportunity.
Our excellent matron was delighted with her domestic arrangements. They
much surpassed any of the various barracks in which she had dwelt, and
a smile of happiness beamed on her handsome face, as she followed her
husband from room to room, listening to his explanations. When they
entered their private apartments, and these were furnished and ready to
receive them, respect caused the rest to leave them by themselves, and
once more they found that they were alone.
"Well, Wilhelmina," asked the gratified husband--gratified, because he
saw pleasure beaming in the mild countenance and serene blue eyes of
one of the best wives living--"Well, Wilhelmina," he asked, "can you
give up Albany, and all the comforts of your friends' dwellings, to be
satisfied in a home like this? It is not probable I shall ever build
again, whatever Bob may do, when he comes after me. This structure,
then, part house, part barrack, part fort, as it is, must be our
residence for the remainder of our days. We are _hutted_ for
life."
"It is all-sufficient, Willoughby. It has space, comfort, warmth,
coolness and security. What more can a wife and a mother ask, when she
is surrounded by those she most loves? Only attend to the security,
Hugh. Remember how far we are removed from any succour, and how sudden
and fierce the Indians are in their attacks. Twice have we, ourselves,
been near being destroyed by surprises, from which accident, or God's
providence, protected us, rather than our own vigilance. If this could
happen in garrisons, and with king's troops around us, how much more
easily might it happen here, with only common labourers to watch what
is going on!"
"You exaggerate the danger, wife. There are no Indians, in this part of
the country, who would dare to molest a settlement like ours. We count
thirteen able-bodied men in all, besides seven women, and could use
seventeen or eighteen muskets and rifles on an emergency. No _tribe_
would dare commence hostilities, in a time of general peace,
and so near the settlements too; and, as to stragglers, who might
indeed murder to rob, we are so strong, ourselves, that we may sleep in
peace, so far as they are concerned."
"One never knows that, dearest Hugh. A marauding party of half-a-dozen
might prove too much for many times their own number, when unprepared.
I _do_ hope you will have the gates hung, at least; should the
girls come here, in the autumn, I could not sleep without hanging the
gates."
"Fear nothing, love," said the captain, kissing his wife with manly
tenderness. "As for Beulah and Maud, let them come when they please; we
shall always have a welcome for them, and no place can be safer than
under their father's eyes."
"I care not so much for myself, Hugh, but _do_ not let the gates
be forgotten until the girls come."
"Everything shall be done as you desire, wife of mine, though it will
be a hard job to get two such confounded heavy loads of wood on their
hinges. We must take some day when everybody is at home, and everybody
willing to work. Saturday next, I intend to have a review; and, once a
month, the year round, there will be a muster, when all the arms are to
be cleaned and loaded, and orders given how to act in case of an alarm.
An old soldier would be disgraced to allow himself to be run down by
mere vagabonds. My pride is concerned, and you may sleep in peace."
"Yes, do, dearest Hugh."--Then the matron proceeded through the rooms,
expressing her satisfaction at the care which had been had for her
comfort, in her own rooms in particular.
Sooth to say, the interior of the hut presented that odd contrast
between civilization and rude expedients, which so frequently occurs on
an American frontier, where persons educated in refinement often find
themselves brought in close collision with savage life. Carpets, in
America, and in the year of our Lord 1765, were not quite as much a
matter of course in domestic economy, as they are to-day. Still they
were to be found, though it was rare, indeed, that they covered more
than the centre of the room. One of these great essentials, without
which no place can appear comfortable in a cold climate, was spread on
the floor of Mrs. Willoughby's parlour--a room that served for both
eating and as a sala, the Knight's Hall of the Hut, measuring twenty by
twenty-four feet--though in fact this carpet concealed exactly two-
thirds of the white clean plank. Then the chairs were massive and even
rich, while one might see his face in the dark mahogany of the tables.
There were cellarets--the captain being a connoisseur in wines--
bureaus, secretaries, beaufets, and other similar articles, that had
been collected in the course of twenty years' housekeeping, and
scattered at different posts, were collected, and brought hither by
means of sledges, and the facilities of the water-courses. Fashion had
little to do with furniture, in that simple age, when the son did not
hesitate to wear even the clothes of the father, years and years after
the tailor had taken leave of them. Massive old furniture, in
particular, lasted for generations, and our matron now saw many
articles that had belonged to her grandfather assembled beneath the
first roof that she could ever strictly call her own.
Mrs. Willoughby took a survey of the offices last. Here she found,
already established, the two Plinies, with Mari', the sister of the
elder Pliny, Bess, the wife of the younger, and Mony--alias Desdemona--
a collateral of the race, by ties and affinities that garter-king-at-
arms could not have traced genealogically; since he would have been
puzzled to say whether the woman was the cousin, or aunt, or step-
daughter of Mari', or all three. All the women were hard at work, Bess
singing in a voice that reached the adjoining forest. Mari'--this name
was pronounced with a strong emphasis on the last syllable, or like
Maria, without the final vowel--Mari' was the head of the kitchen, even
Pliny the elder standing in salutary dread of her authority; and her
orders to her brother and nephew were pouring forth, in an English that
was divided into three categories; the Anglo-Saxon, the Low Dutch, and
the Guinea dialect; a medley that rendered her discourse a droll
assemblage of the vulgar and the classical.
"Here, niggers," she cried, "why you don't jump about like Paus dance?
Ebbery t'ing want a hand, and some want a foot. Plate to wash, crockery
to open, water to b'ile, dem knife to clean, and not'ing missed. Lord,
here's a madam, and 'e whole kitchen in a diffusion."
"Well, Mari'," exclaimed the captain, good-naturedly, "here you are,
scolding away as if you had been in the place these six months, and
knew all its faults and weaknesses."
"Can't help a scold, master, in sich a time as dis--come away from dem
plates, _you_ Great Smash, and let a proper hand take hold on
'em."
Here we ought to say, that captain Willoughby had christened Bess by
the sobriquet of Great Smash, on account of her size, which fell little
short of two hundred, estimated in pounds, and a certain facility she
possessed in destroying crockery, while 'Mony went by the milder
appellation of "Little Smash;" not that bowls or plates fared any
better in her hands, but because _she_ weighed only one hundred
and eighty.
"Dis is what I tell 'em, master," continued Mari', in a remonstrating,
argumentative sort of a tone, with dogmatism and respect singularly
mingled in her manner--"Dis, massa, just what I tell 'em _all_. I
tell 'em, says I, this is Hunter Knoll, and not All_bon_ny--here
no store--no place to buy t'ing if you break 'em; no good woman who
know ebbery t'ing, to tell you where to find t'ing, if you _lose_
him. If dere was only good woman, _dat_ somet'ing; but no fortun'-
teller out here in de bushes--no, no--when a silber spoon go,
_here_, he go for good and all--Goody, massy"--staring at something
in the court--"what he call _dat_, sa?"
"That--oh! that is only an Indian hunter I keep about me, to bring us
game--you'll never have an empty spit, Mari', as long as _he_ is
with us. Fear nothing; he will not harm you. His name is Nick."
"De _Ole_ Nick, massa?"
"No, only _Saucy_ Nick. The fellow is a little slovenly to-day in
his appearance, and you see he has brought already several partridges,
besides a rabbit. We shall have venison, in the season."
Here all the negroes, after staring at Nick, quite a minute, set up a
loud shout, laughing as if the Tuscarora had been created for their
special amusement. Although the captain was somewhat of a martinet in
his domestic discipline, it had ever altogether exceeded his authority,
or his art, to prevent these bursts of merriment; and he led his wife
away from the din, leaving Mari', Great Smash, and Little Smash, with
the two Plinies, in ecstasies at their own uproar. Burst succeeded
burst, until the Indian walked away, in offended dignity.
Such was the commencement of the domestication of the Willoughbys at
the Hutted Knoll. The plan of our tale does not require us to follow
them minutely for, the few succeeding years, though some further
explanation may be necessary to show why this settlement varied a
little from the ordinary course.
That very season, or, in the summer of 1765, Mrs. Willoughby inherited
some real estate in Albany, by the death of an uncle, as well as a few
thousand pounds currency, in ready money. This addition to his fortune
made the captain exceedingly comfortable; or, for that day, rich; and
it left him to act his pleasure as related to his lands. Situated as
these last were, so remote from other settlements as to render
highways, for some time, hopeless, he saw no use in endeavouring to
anticipate the natural order of things. It would only create
embarrassment to raise produce that could not be sent to market; and he
well knew that a population of any amount could not exist, in quiet,
without the usual attendants of buying and selling. Then it suited his
own taste to be the commander-in-chief of an isolated establishment
like this; and he was content to live in abundance, on his flats,
feeding his people, his cattle, and even his hogs to satiety, and
having wherewithal to send away the occasional adventurer, who entered
his clearing, contented and happy.
Thus it was that he neither sold nor leased. No person dwelt on his
land who was not a direct dependant, or hireling, and all that the
earth yielded he could call his own. Nothing was sent abroad for sale
but cattle. Every year, a small drove of fat beeves and milch cows
found their way through the forest to Albany, and the proceeds returned
in the shape of foreign supplies. The rents, and the interests on
bonds, were left to accumulate, or were applied to aid Robert in
obtaining a new step in the army. Lands began to be granted nearer and
nearer to his own, and here and there some old officer like himself, or
a solitary farmer, began to cut away the wilderness; but none in his
immediate vicinity.
Still the captain did not live altogether as a hermit. He visited
Edmeston of Mount Edmeston, a neighbour less than fifty miles distant;
was occasionally seen at Johnson Hall, with Sir William; or at the
bachelor establishment of Sir John, on the Mohawk; and once or twice he
so far overcame his indolence, as to consent to serve as a member for a
new county, that was called Tryon, after a ruling governor.