The Virginians

by William Makepeace Thackeray

  CHAPTER XCI. Satis Pugnae

  It has always seemed to me (I speak under the correction of militarygentlemen) that the entrenchments of Breed's Hill served the Continentalarmy throughout the whole of our American war. The slaughter inflictedupon us from behind those lines was so severe, and the behaviour of theenemy so resolute, that the British chiefs respected the barricadesof the Americans hereafter; and were they firing from behind a row ofblankets, certain of our generals rather hesitated to force them. In theaffair of the White Plains, when, for a second time, Mr. Washington'sarmy was quite at the mercy of the victors, we subsequently heardthat our conquering troops were held back before a barricade actuallycomposed of cornstalks and straw. Another opportunity was given us, andlasted during a whole winter, during which the dwindling and dismayedtroops of Congress lay starving and unarmed under our grasp, and themagnanimous Mr. Howe left the famous camp of Valley Forge untouched,whilst his great, brave, and perfectly appointed army fiddled andgambled and feasted in Philadelphia. And, by Byng's countrymen,triumphal arches were erected, tournaments were held in pleasant mockeryof the middle ages, and wreaths and garlands offered by beautiful ladiesto this clement chief, with fantastical mottoes and posies announcingthat his laurels should be immortal! Why have my ungrateful countrymenin America never erected statues to this general? They had not in alltheir army an officer who fought their battles better; who enabled themto retrieve their errors with such adroitness; who took care that theirdefeats should be so little hurtful to themselves; and when, in thecourse of events, the stronger force naturally got the uppermost, whoshowed such an untiring tenderness, patience, and complacency in helpingthe poor disabled opponent on to his legs again. Ah! think of eighteenyears before and the fiery young warrior whom England had sent out tofight her adversary on the American continent. Fancy him for ever pacinground the defences behind which the foe lies sheltered; by night and byday alike sleepless and eager; consuming away in his fierce wrath andlonging, and never closing his eye, so intent is it in watching; windingthe track with untiring scent that pants and hungers for blood andbattle; prowling through midnight forests, or climbing silent overprecipices before dawn; and watching till his great heart is almost wornout, until the foe shows himself at last, when he springs on him andgrapples with him, and, dying, slays him! Think of Wolfe at Quebec,and hearken to Howe's fiddles as he sits smiling amongst the dancers atPhiladelphia!

  A favourite scheme with our ministers at home and some of our generalsin America, was to establish a communication between Canada and NewYork, by which means it was hoped New England might be cut off fromthe neighbouring colonies, overpowered in detail, and forced intosubmission. Burgoyne was entrusted with the conduct of the plan, and heset forth from Quebec, confidently promising to bring it to asuccessful issue. His march began in military state: the trumpets ofhis proclamations blew before him; he bade the colonists to remember theimmense power of England; and summoned the misguided rebels to lay downtheir arms. He brought with him a formidable English force, an army ofGerman veterans not less powerful, a dreadful band of Indian warriors,and a brilliant train of artillery. It was supposed that the peopleround his march would rally to the Royal cause and standards. TheContinental force in front of him was small at first, and Washington'sarmy was weakened by the withdrawal of troops who were hurried forwardto meet this Canadian invasion. A British detachment from New York wasto force its way up the Hudson, sweeping away the enemy on the route,and make a junction with Burgoyne at Albany. Then was the time whenWashington's weakened army should have been struck too; but a greaterPower willed otherwise: nor am I, for one, even going to regret thetermination of the war. As we look over the game now, how clear seem theblunders which were made by the losing side! From the beginning to theend we were for ever arriving too late. Our supplies and reinforcementsfrom home were too late. Our troops were in difficulty, and our succoursreached them too late. Our fleet appeared off York Town just toolate, after Cornwallis had surrendered. A way of escape was openedto Burgoyne, but he resolved upon retreat too late. I have hearddiscomfited officers in after days prove infallibly how a different windwould have saved America to us; how we must have destroyed the Frenchfleet but for a tempest or two; how once, twice, thrice, but fornightfall, Mr. Washington and his army were in our power. Who has notspeculated, in the course of his reading of history, upon the "Has been"and the "Might have been" in the world? I take my tattered old map-bookfrom the shelf, and see the board on which the great contest was played;I wonder at the curious chances which lost it: and, putting aside anyidle talk about the respective bravery of the two nations, can't but seethat we had the best cards, and that we lost the game.

  I own the sport had a considerable fascination for me, and stirred upmy languid blood. My brother Hal, when settled on his plantation inVirginia, was perfectly satisfied with the sports and occupations hefound there. The company of the country neighbours sufficed him; henever tired of looking after his crops and people, taking his fish,shooting his ducks, hunting in his woods, or enjoying his rubber andhis supper. Happy Hal, in his great barn of a house, under his roomyporches, his dogs lying round his feet; his friends, the Virginian WillWimbles, at free quarters in his mansion; his negroes fat, lazy, andragged: his shrewd little wife ruling over them and her husband, whoalways obeyed her implicitly when living, and who was pretty speedilyconsoled when she died! I say happy, though his lot would have beenintolerable to me: wife, and friends, and plantation, and town life atRichmond (Richmond succeeded to the honour of being the capital when ourProvince became a State). How happy he whose foot fits the shoe whichfortune gives him! My income was five times as great, my house inEngland as large, and built of bricks and faced with freestone; mywife--would I have changed her for any other wife in the world? Mychildren--well, I am contented with my Lady Warrington's opinion aboutthem. But with all these plums and peaches and rich fruits out ofPlenty's horn poured into my lap, I fear I have been but an ingrate;and Hodge, my gatekeeper, who shares his bread and scrap of bacon witha family as large as his master's, seems to me to enjoy his meal as muchas I do, though Mrs. Molly prepares her best dishes and sweetmeats, andMr. Gumbo uncorks the choicest bottle from the cellar. Ah me! sweetmeatshave lost their savour for me, however they may rejoice my young onesfrom the nursery, and the perfume of claret palls upon old noses!Our parson has poured out his sermons many and many a time to me, andperhaps I did not care for them much when he first broached them. Dostthou remember, honest friend? (sure he does, for he has repeated thestory over the bottle as many times as his sermons almost, and my LadyWarrington pretends as if she had never heard it)--I say, Joe Blake,thou rememberest full well, and with advantages, that October eveningwhen we scrambled up an embrasure at Fort Clinton and a clubbed musketwould have dashed these valuable brains out, had not Joe's sword whippedmy rebellious countryman through the gizzard. Joe wore a red coat inthose days (the uniform of the brave Sixty-third, whose leader, the boldSill, fell pierced with many wounds beside him). He exchanged his redfor black and my pulpit. His doctrines are sound, and his sermons short.We read the papers together over our wine. Not two months ago we readour old friend Howe's glorious deed of the first of June. We were toldhow the noble Rawdon, who fought with us at Fort Clinton, had joined theDuke of York: and to-day his Royal Highness is in full retreat beforePichegru: and he and my son Miles have taken Valenciennes for nothing!Ah, parson! would you not like to put on your old Sixty-third coat?(though I doubt Mrs. Blake could never make the buttons and button-holesmeet again over your big body). The boys were acting a play with mymilitia sword. Oh, that I were young again, Mr. Blake! that I had notthe gout in my toe; and I would saddle Rosinante and ride back intothe world, and feel the pulses beat again, and play a little of life'sglorious game!

  The last "hit" which I saw played, was gallantly won by our side; though'tis true that even in this parti the Americans won the rubber--ourpeople gaining only the ground they stood on, and the guns, stores, andships which they captured and de
stroyed, whilst our efforts at rescuewere too late to prevent the catastrophe impending over Burgoyne'sunfortunate army. After one of those delays which always were happeningto retard our plans and weaken the blows which our chiefs intended todeliver, an expedition was got under weigh from New York at the closeof the month of September, '77; that, could it have but advanced afortnight earlier, might have saved the doomed force of Burgoyne. SedDis aliter visum. The delay here was not Sir Henry Clinton's fault, whocould not leave his city unprotected; but the winds and weather whichdelayed the arrival of reinforcements which we had long awaited fromEngland. The fleet which brought them brought us long and fond lettersfrom home, with the very last news of the children under the care oftheir good Aunt Hetty and their grandfather. The mother's heart yearnedtowards the absent young ones. She made me no reproaches: but I couldread her importunities in her anxious eyes, her terrors for me, and herlonging for her children. "Why stay longer?" she seemed to say. "Youwho have no calling to this war, or to draw the sword against yourcountrymen--why continue to imperil your life and my happiness?" Iunderstood her appeal. We were to enter upon no immediate service ofdanger; I told her Sir Henry was only going to accompany the expeditionfor a part of the way. I would return with him, the reconnaissance over,and Christmas, please Heaven, should see our family once more united inEngland.

  A force of three thousand men, including a couple of slender regimentsof American Loyalists and New York Militia (with which latter mydistinguished relative, Mr. Will Esmond, went as captain), was embarkedat New York, and our armament sailed up the noble Hudson River, thatpresents finer aspects than the Rhine in Europe to my mind: nor wasany fire opened upon us from those beetling cliffs and precipitous"palisades," as they are called, by which we sailed; the enemy, strangeto say, being for once unaware of the movement we contemplated. Ourfirst landing was on the Eastern bank, at a place called VerplancksPoint, whence the Congress troops withdrew after a slight resistance,their leader, the tough old Putnam (so famous during the war) supposingthat our march was to be directed towards the Eastern Highlands, bywhich we intended to penetrate to Burgoyne. Putnam fell back to occupythese passes, a small detachment of ours being sent forward as if inpursuit, which he imagined was to be followed by the rest of our force.Meanwhile, before daylight, two thousand men without artillery, werecarried over to Stoney Point on the Western shore, opposite Verplancks,and under a great hill called the Dunderberg by the old Dutch lords ofthe stream, and which hangs precipitously over it. A little streamat the northern base of this mountain intersects it from the oppositeheight on which Fort Clinton stood, named not after our general, butafter one of the two gentlemen of the same name, who were amongst theoldest and most respected of the provincial gentry of New York, and whowere at this moment actually in command against Sir Henry. On the nextheight to Clinton is Fort Montgomery; and behind them rises a hillcalled Bear Hill; whilst at the opposite side of the magnificent streamstands "Saint Antony's Nose," a prodigious peak indeed, which the Dutchhad quaintly christened.

  The attacks on the two forts were almost simultaneous. Half our men weredetached for the assault on Fort Montgomery, under the brave Campbell,who fell before the rampart. Sir Henry, who would never be out of dangerwhere he could find it, personally led the remainder, and hoped, hesaid, that we should have better luck than before the Sullivan Island. Apath led up to the Dunderberg, so narrow as scarcely to admit three menabreast, and in utter silence our whole force scaled it, wondering atevery rugged step to meet with no opposition. The enemy had not evenkept a watch on it; nor were we descried until we were descending theheight, at the base of which we easily dispersed a small force senthurriedly to oppose us. The firing which here took place rendered allidea of a surprise impossible. The fort was before us. With such armsas the troops had in their hands, they had to assault; and silentlyand swiftly, in the face of the artillery playing upon them, the troopsascended the hill. The men had orders on no account to fire. Taking thecolours of the Sixty-third, and bearing them aloft, Sir Henry mountedwith the stormers. The place was so steep that the men pushed eachother over the wall and through the embrasures; and it was there thatLieutenant Joseph Blake, the father of a certain Joseph Clinton Blake,who looks with the eyes of affection on a certain young lady, presentedhimself to the living of Warrington by saving the life of the unworthypatron thereof.

  About a fourth part of the garrison, as we were told, escaped out ofthe fort, the rest being killed or wounded, or remaining our prisonerswithin the works. Fort Montgomery was, in like manner, stormed and takenby our people; and, at night, as we looked down from the heights wherethe king's standard had been just planted, we were treated to a splendidillumination in the river below. Under Fort Montgomery, and stretchingover to that lofty prominence, called Saint Antony's Nose, a boom andchain had been laid with a vast cost and labour, behind which severalAmerican frigates and galleys were anchored. The fort being taken, theseships attempted to get up the river in the darkness, out of the reach ofguns which they knew must destroy them in the morning. But the wind wasunfavourable, and escape was found to be impossible. The crews thereforetook to the boats, and so landed, having previously set the ships onfire with all their sails set; and we beheld these magnificent pyramidsof flame burning up to the heavens and reflected in the waters below,until, in the midst of prodigious explosions, they sank and disappeared.

  On the next day a parlementaire came in from the enemy, to inquire as tothe state of his troops left wounded or prisoners in our hands, and theContinental officer brought me a note, which gave me a strange shock,for it showed that in the struggle of the previous evening my brotherhad been engaged. It was dated October 7, from Major-General GeorgeClinton's divisional headquarters, and it stated briefly that "ColonelH. Warrington, of the Virginia line, hopes that Sir George Warringtonescaped unhurt in the assault of last evening, from which the Colonelhimself was so fortunate as to retire without the least injury." Neverdid I say my prayers more heartily and gratefully than on that night,devoutly thanking Heaven that my dearest brother was spared, and makinga vow at the same time to withdraw out of the fratricidal contest, intowhich I only had entered because Honour and Duty seemed imperatively tocall me.

  I own I felt an inexpressible relief when I had come to the resolutionto retire and betake myself to the peaceful shade of my own vines andfig-trees at home. I longed, however, to see my brother ere I returned,and asked, and easily obtained an errand to the camp of the AmericanGeneral Clinton from our own chief. The headquarters of his divisionwere now some miles up the river, and a boat and a flag of truce quicklybrought me to the point where his out-pickets received me on the shore.My brother was very soon with me. He had only lately joined GeneralClinton's division with letters from headquarters at Philadelphia, andhe chanced to hear, after the attack on Fort Clinton, that I had beenpresent during the affair. We passed a brief delightful night together:Mr. Sady, who always followed Hal to the war, cooking a feast in honourof both his masters. There was but one bed of straw in the hut where wehad quarters, and Hal and I slept on it, side by side, as we had donewhen we were boys. We had a hundred things to say regarding past timesand present. His kind heart gladdened when I told him of my resolve toretire to my acres and to take off the red coat which I wore: he flunghis arms round it. "Praised be God!" said he. "Oh, heavens, George!think what might have happened had we met in the affair two nights ago!"And he turned quite pale at the thought. He eased my mind with respectto our mother. She was a bitter Tory, to be sure, but the Chief hadgiven special injunctions regarding her safety. "And Fanny" (Hal'swife) "watches over her, and she is as good as a company!" cried theenthusiastic husband. "Isn't she clever? Isn't she handsome? Isn'tshe good?" cries Hal, never, fortunately, waiting for a reply to theseardent queries. "And to think that I was nearly marrying Maria once! Oh,mercy, what an escape I had!" he added. "Hagan prays for the King, everymorning and night, at Castlewood, but they bolt the doors, and nobodyhears. Gracious powers! his wife is sixty if she is a day; and
oh,George! the quantity she drinks is..." But why tell the failings of ourgood cousin? I am pleased to think she lived to drink the health of KingGeorge long after his Old Dominion had passed for ever from his sceptre.

  The morning came when my brief mission to the camp was ended, and thetruest of friends and fondest of brothers accompanied me to my boat,which lay waiting at the riverside. We exchanged an embrace at parting,and his hand held mine yet for a moment ere I stepped into the bargewhich bore me rapidly down the stream. "Shall I see thee once more,dearest and best companion of my youth?" I thought. "Amongst our coldEnglishmen, can I ever hope to meet with a friend like thee? When hadstthou ever a thought that was not kindly and generous? When a wish, ora possession, but for me you would sacrifice it? How brave are you,and how modest; how gentle, and how strong; how simple, unselfish, andhumble; how eager to see others' merit; how diffident of your own!" Hestood on the shore till his figure grew dim before, me. There was thatin my eyes which prevented me from seeing him longer.

  Brilliant as Sir Henry's success had been, it was achieved, as usual,too late: and served but as a small set-off against the disaster ofBurgoyne which ensued immediately, and which our advance was utterlyinadequate to relieve. More than one secret messenger was despatched tohim who never reached him, and of whom we never learned the fate. Ofone wretch who offered to carry intelligence to him, and whom SirHenry despatched with a letter of his own, we heard the miserabledoom. Falling in with some of the troops of General George Clinton, whohappened to be in red uniform (part of the prize of a British ship'scargo, doubtless, which had been taken by American privateers), the spythought he was in the English army, and advanced towards the sentries.He found his mistake too late. His letter was discovered upon him, andhe had to die for bearing it. In ten days after the success at the Fortsoccurred the great disaster at Saratoga, of which we carried the dismalparticulars in the fleet which bore us home. I am afraid my wife wasunable to mourn for it. She had her children, her father, her sister torevisit, and daily and nightly thanks to pay to Heaven that had broughther husband safe out of danger.

  CHAPTER XCII. Under Vine and Fig-Tree

  Need I describe, young folks, the delights of the meeting at home,and the mother's happiness with all her brood once more under her fondwings? It was wrote in her face, and acknowledged on her knees. Ourhouse was large enough for all, but Aunt Hetty would not stay in it. Shesaid, fairly, that to resign her motherhood over the elder children, whohad been hers for nearly three years, cost her too great a pang; and shecould not bear for yet a while to be with them, and to submit to takeonly the second place. So she and her father went away to a house atBury St. Edmunds, not far from us, where they lived, and where shespoiled her eldest nephew and niece in private. It was the year after wecame home that Mr. B, the Jamaica planter, died, who left her the halfof his fortune; and then I heard, for the first time, how the worthygentleman had been greatly enamoured of her in Jamaica, and, though shehad refused him, had thus shown his constancy to her. Heaven knows howmuch property of Aunt Hetty's Monsieur Miles hath already devoured!the price of his commission and outfit; his gorgeous uniforms; hisplay-debts and little transactions in the Minories;--do you think,sirrah, I do not know what human nature is; what is the cost ofPall Mall taverns, petits soupers, play even in moderation--at theCocoa-Tree; and that a gentleman cannot purchase all these enjoymentswith the five hundred a year which I allow him? Aunt Hetty declares shehas made up her mind to be an old maid. "I made a vow never to marryuntil I could find a man as good as my dear father," she said; "and Inever did, Sir George. No, my dearest Theo, not half as good; and SirGeorge may put that in his pipe and smoke it."

  And yet when the good General died (calm, and full of years, and glad todepart), I think it was my wife who shed the most tears. "I weep becauseI think I did not love him enough," said the tender creature: whereasHetty scarce departed from her calm, at least outwardly and before anyof us; talks of him constantly still, as though he were alive; recallshis merry sayings, his gentle, kind ways with his children (when shebrightens up and looks herself quite a girl again), and sits cheerfullylooking up to the slab in church which records his name and some of hisvirtues, and for once tells no lies.

  I had fancied, sometimes, that my brother Hal, for whom Hetty had ajuvenile passion, always retained a hold of her heart; and when he cameto see us, ten years ago, I told him of this childish romance of Het's,with the hope, I own, that he would ask her to replace Mrs. Fanny, whohad been gathered to her fathers, and regarding whom my wife (withher usual propensity to consider herself a miserable sinner) alwaysreproached herself, because, forsooth, she did not regret Fanny enough.Hal, when he came to us, was plunged in grief about her loss; and vowedthat the world did not contain such another woman. Our dear old General,who was still in life then, took him in and housed him, as he had donein the happy early days. The women played him the very same tunes whichhe had heard when a boy at Oakhurst. Everybody's heart was very softwith old recollections, and Harry never tired of pouring out his griefsand his recitals of his wife's virtues to Het, and anon of talkingfondly about his dear Aunt Lambert, whom he loved with all his heart,and whose praises, you may be sure, were welcome to the faithful oldhusband, out of whose thoughts his wife's memory was never, I believe,absent for any three waking minutes of the day.

  General Hal went to Paris as an American General Officer in his blue andyellow (which Mr. Fox and other gentlemen had brought into fashion herelikewise), and was made much of at Versailles, although he was presentedby Monsieur le Marquis de Lafayette to the Most Christian King andQueen, who did not love Monsieur le Marquis. And I believe a Marquisetook a fancy to the Virginian General, and would have married him out ofhand, had he not resisted, and fled back to England and Warrington andBury again, especially to the latter place, where the folks would listento him as he talked about his late wife, with an endless patience andsympathy. As for us, who had known the poor paragon, we were civil, butnot quite so enthusiastic regarding her, and rather puzzled sometimes toanswer our children's questions about Uncle Hal's angel wife.

  The two Generals and myself, and Captain Miles, and Parson Blake (whowas knocked over at Monmouth, the year after I left America, and camehome to change his coat, and take my living), used to fight the battlesof the Revolution over our bottle; and the parson used to cry, "ByJupiter, General" (he compounded for Jupiter, when he laid down hismilitary habit), "you are the Tory, and Sir George is the Whig! He isalways finding fault with our leaders, and you are for ever standingup for them; and when I prayed for the King last Sunday, I heard youfollowing me quite loud."

  "And so I do, Blake, with all my heart; I can't forget I wore his coat,"says Hal.

  "Ah, if Wolfe had been alive for twenty years more!" says Lambert.

  "Ah, sir," cries Hal, "you should hear the General talk about him!"

  "What General?" says I (to vex him).

  "My General," says Hal, standing up, and filling a bumper. "HisExcellency General George Washington!"

  "With all my heart," cry I, but the parson looks as if he did not likethe toast or the claret.

  Hal never tired in speaking of his General; and it was on some suchevening of friendly converse, that he told us how he had actually beenin disgrace with this General whom he loved so fondly. Their differenceseems to have been about Monsieur le Marquis de Lafayette beforementioned, who played such a fine part in history of late, and who hathso suddenly disappeared out of it. His previous rank in our own service,and his acknowledged gallantry during the war, ought to have securedColonel Warrington's promotion in the Continental army, where awhipper-snapper like M. de Lafayette had but to arrive and straightwayto be complimented by Congress with the rank of Major-General. Hal,with the freedom of an old soldier, had expressed himself somewhatcontemptuously regarding some of the appointments made by Congress, withwhom all sorts of miserable intrigues and cabals were set to work byunscrupulous officers who were greedy of promotion. Mr. Warrington,imitating perhaps in this t
he example of his now illustrious friend ofMount Vernon, affected to make the war en gentilhomme took his pay, tobe sure, but spent it upon comforts and clothing for his men, and as forrank, declared it was a matter of no earthly concern to him, and that hewould as soon serve as colonel as in any higher grade. No doubt he addedcontemptuous remarks regarding certain General Officers of Congressarmy, their origin, and the causes of their advancement: notably hewas very angry about the sudden promotion of the young French lad justnamed--the Marquis, as they loved to call him--in the Republican army,and who, by the way, was a prodigious favourite of the Chief himself.There were not three officers in the whole Continental force (afterpoor madcap Lee was taken prisoner and disgraced) who could speak theMarquis's language, so that Hal could judge the young Major-Generalmore closely and familiarly than other gentlemen, including theCommander-in-Chief himself. Mr. Washington good-naturedly rated friendHal for being jealous of the beardless commander of Auvergne; washimself not a little pleased by the filial regard and profoundveneration which the enthusiastic young nobleman always showed forhim; and had, moreover, the very best politic reasons for treating theMarquis with friendship and favour.

  Meanwhile, as it afterwards turned out, the Commander-in-Chief was mosturgently pressing Colonel Warrington's promotion upon Congress; and, asif his difficulties before the enemy were not enough, he being at thishard time of winter entrenched at Valley Forge, commanding five orsix thousand men at the most, almost without fire, blankets, food, orammunition, in the face of Sir William Howe's army, which was perfectlyappointed, and three times as numerous as his own; as if, I say, thisdifficulty was not enough to try him, he had further to encounterthe cowardly distrust of Congress, and insubordination and conspiracyamongst the officers in his own camp. During the awful winter of '77,when one blow struck by the sluggard at the head of the British forcesmight have ended the war, and all was doubt, confusion, despair in theopposite camp (save in one indomitable breast alone), my brother had aninterview with the Chief, which he has subsequently described to me,and of which Hal could never speak without giving way to the deepestemotion. Mr. Washington had won no such triumph as that which thedare-devil courage of Arnold and the elegant imbecility of Burgoynehad procured for Gates and the northern army. Save in one or two minorencounters, which proved how daring his bravery was, and how unceasinghis watchfulness, General Washington had met with defeat after defeatfrom an enemy in all points his superior. The Congress mistrustedhim. Many an officer in his own camp hated him. Those who had beendisappointed in ambition, those who had been detected in peculation,those whose selfishness or incapacity his honest eyes had spiedout,--were all more, or less in league against him. Gates was the chieftowards whom the malcontents turned. Mr. Gates was the only genius fitto conduct the war; and with a vaingloriousness, which he afterwardsgenerously owned, he did not refuse the homage which was paid him.

  To show how dreadful were the troubles and anxieties with which GeneralWashington had to contend, I may mention what at this time was calledthe "Conway Cabal." A certain Irishman--a Chevalier of St. Louis, and anofficer in the French service--arrived in America early in the year '77in quest of military employment. He was speedily appointed to the rankof brigadier, and could not be contented, forsooth, without an immediatepromotion to be major-general.

  Mr. C. had friends at Congress, who, as the General-in-Chief wasinformed, had promised him his speedy promotion. General Washingtonremonstrated, representing the injustice of promoting to the highestrank the youngest brigadier in the service; and whilst the matter waspending, was put in possession of a letter from Conway to General Gates,whom he complimented, saying, that "Heaven had been determined to saveAmerica, or a weak general and bad councillors would have ruined it."The General enclosed the note to Mr. Conway, without a word of comment;and Conway offered his resignation, which was refused by Congress,who appointed him Inspector-General of the army, with the rank ofMajor-General.

  "And it was at this time," says Harry (with many passionate exclamationsindicating his rage with himself and his admiration of his leader),"when, by heavens, the glorious Chief was oppressed by troubles enoughto drive ten thousand men mad--that I must interfere with my jealousiesabout the Frenchman! I had not said much, only some nonsense to Greeneand Cadwalader about getting some frogs against the Frenchman came todine with us, and having a bagful of Marquises over from Paris, as wewere not able to command ourselves;--but I should have known the Chief'stroubles, and that he had a better head than mine, and might have hadthe grace to hold my tongue.

  "For a while the General said nothing, but I could remark, by thecoldness of his demeanour, that something had occurred to create aschism between him and me. Mrs. Washington, who had come to camp, alsosaw that something was wrong. Women have artful ways of soothing men andfinding their secrets out. I am not sure that I should have ever triedto learn the cause of the General's displeasure, for I am as proud ashe is, and besides" (says Hal), "when the Chief is angry, it was notpleasant coming near him, I can promise you." My brother was indeedsubjugated by his old friend, and obeyed him and bowed before him as aboy before a schoolmaster.

  "At last," Hal resumed, "Mrs. Washington found out the mystery.'Speak to me after dinner, Colonel Hal,' says she. 'Come out to theparade-ground, before the dining-house, and I will tell you all.' Ileft a half-score of general officers and brigadiers drinking round theGeneral's table, and found Mrs. Washington waiting for me. She then toldme it was the speech I had made about the box of Marquises, with whichthe General was offended. 'I should not have heeded it in another,'he had said, 'but I never thought Harry Warrington would have joinedagainst me.'

  "I had to wait on him for the word that night, and found him alone athis table. 'Can your Excellency give me five minutes' time?' I said,with my heart in my mouth. 'Yes, surely, sir,' says he, pointing to theother chair. 'Will you please to be seated?'

  "'It used not always to be Sir and Colonel Warrington, between me andyour Excellency,' I said.

  "He said, calmly, 'The times are altered.'

  "'Et nos mutamur in illis,' says I. 'Times and people are both changed.'

  "'You had some business with me?' he asked.

  "'Am I speaking to the Commander-in-Chief or to my old friend?' I asked.

  "He looked at me gravely. 'Well,--to both, sir,' he said. 'Pray sit,Harry.'

  "'If to General Washington, I tell his Excellency that I, and manyofficers of this army, are not well pleased to see a boy of twenty madea major-general over us, because he is a Marquis, and because he can'tspeak the English language. If I speak to my old friend, I have to saythat he has shown me very little of trust or friendship for the lastfew weeks; and that I have no desire to sit at your table, and haveimpertinent remarks made by others there, of the way in which hisExcellency turns his back on me.'

  "'Which charge shall I take first, Harry?' he asked, turning his chairaway from the table, and crossing his legs as if ready for a talk. 'Youare jealous, as I gather, about the Marquis?'

  "'Jealous, sir!' says I. 'An aide-de-camp of Mr. Wolfe is not jealous ofa Jack-a-dandy who, five years ago, was being whipped at school!'

  "'You yourself declined higher rank than that which you hold,' says theChief, turning a little red.

  "'But I never bargained to have a macaroni Marquis to command me!' Icried. 'I will not, for one, carry the young gentleman's orders; andsince Congress and your Excellency chooses to take your generals outof the nursery, I shall humbly ask leave to resign, and retire to myplantation.'

  "'Do, Harry; that is true friendship!' says the Chief, with a gentlenessthat surprised me. 'Now that your old friend is in a difficulty, 'tissurely the best time to leave him.'

  "'Sir!' says I.

  "'Do as so many of the rest are doing, Mr. Warrington. Et tu, Brute,as the play says. Well, well, Harry! I did not think it of you; but, atleast, you are in the fashion.'

  "'You asked which charge you should take first?' I said.

  "'Ch, the promotion of the Ma
rquis? I recommended the appointment toCongress, no doubt; and you and other gentlemen disapprove it.'

  "'I have spoken for myself, sir,' says I.

  "'If you take me in that tone, Colonel Warrington, I have nothing toanswer!' says the Chief, rising up very fiercely; 'and presume thatI can recommend officers for promotion without asking your previoussanction.'

  "'Being on that tone, sir,' says I, 'let me respectfully offer myresignation to your Excellency, founding my desire to resign upon thefact, that Congress, at your Excellency's recommendation, offers itshighest commands to boys of twenty, who are scarcely even acquaintedwith our language.' And I rise up and make his Excellency a bow.

  "'Great heavens, Harry!' he cries--(about this Marquis's appointment hewas beaten, that was the fact, and he could not reply to me), 'can't youbelieve that in this critical time of our affairs, there are reasons whyspecial favours should be shown to the first Frenchman of distinctionwho comes amongst us?'

  "'No doubt, sir. If your Excellency acknowledges that Monsieur deLafayette's merits have nothing to do with the question.'

  "'I acknowledge or deny nothing, sir!' says the General, with a stamp ofhis foot, and looking as though he could be terribly angry if he would.'Am I here to be catechised by you? Stay. Hark, Harry! I speak to you asa man of the world--nay, as an old friend. This appointment humiliatesyou and others, you say? Be it so! Must we not bear humiliation, alongwith the other burthens and griefs, for the sake of our country? It isno more just perhaps that the Marquis should be set over you gentlemen,than that your Prince Ferdinand or your Prince of Wales at home shouldhave a command over veterans. But if in appointing this young noblemanwe please a whole nation, and bring ourselves twenty millions of allies,will you and other gentlemen sulk because we do him honour? 'Tis easy tosneer at him (though, believe me, the Marquis has many more meritsthan you allow him); to my mind it were more generous, as well as morepolite, of Harry Warrington to welcome this stranger for the sake of theprodigious benefit our country may draw from him--not to laugh at hispeculiarities, but to aid him and help his ignorance by your experienceas an old soldier: that is what I would do--that is the part I expectedof thee--for it is the generous and manly one, Harry: but you chooseto join my enemies, and when I am in trouble you say you will leave me.That is why I have been hurt: that is why I have been cold. I thoughtI might count on your friendship--and--and you can tell whether I wasright or no. I relied on you as on a brother, and you come and tell meyou will resign. Be it so! Being embarked in this contest, by God's willI will see it to an end. You are not the first, Mr. Warrington, has leftme on the way.'

  "He spoke with so much tenderness, and as he spoke his face wore such alook of unhappiness, that an extreme remorse and pity seized me, and Icalled out I know not what incoherent expressions regarding old times,and vowed that if he would say the word, I never would leave him. Younever loved him, George," says my brother, turning to me, "but I didbeyond all mortal men; and, though I am not clever like you, I think myinstinct was in the right. He has a greatness not approached by othermen"

  "I don't say no, brother," said I, "now."

  "Greatness, pooh!" says the parson, growling over his wine.

  "We walked into Mrs. Washington's tea-room arm-in-arm," Hal resumed;"she looked up quite kind, and saw we were friends. 'Is it all over,Colonel Harry?' she whispered. 'I know he has applied ever so oftenabout your promotion----'

  "'I never will take it,' says I. And that is how I came to do penance,"says Harry, telling me the story, "with Lafayette the next winter." (Halcould imitate the Frenchman very well.) "'I will go weez heem,' says I.'I know the way to Quebec, and when we are not in action with Sir Guy, Ican hear his Excellency the Major-General say his lesson.' There was nofight, you know we could get no army to act in Canada, and returned toheadquarters; and what do you think disturbed the Frenchman most? Theidea that people would laugh at him, because his command had come tonothing. And so they did laugh at him, and almost to his face too, andwho could help it? If our Chief had any weak point it was this Marquis.

  "After our little difference we became as great friends as before--ifa man may be said to be friends with a Sovereign Prince, for as such Isomehow could not help regarding the General: and one night, when wehad sate the company out, we talked of old times, and the jolly days ofsport we had together both before and after Braddock's; and that prettyduel you were near having when we were boys. He laughed about it, andsaid he never saw a man look more wicked and more bent on killing thanyou did: 'And to do Sir George justice, I think he has hated me eversince,' says the Chief. 'Ah!' he added, 'an open enemy I can facereadily enough. 'Tis the secret foe who causes the doubt and anguish! Wehave sat with more than one at my table to-day, to whom I am obliged toshow a face of civility, whose hands I must take when they are offered,though I know they are stabbing my reputation, and are eager to pull medown from my place. You spoke but lately of being humiliated because ajunior was set over you in command. What humiliation is yours comparedto mine, who have to play the farce of welcome to these traitors; whohave to bear the neglect of Congress, and see men who have insulted mepromoted in my own army? If I consulted my own feelings as a man, wouldI continue in this command? You know whether my temper is naturally warmor not, and whether as a private gentleman I should be likely tosuffer such slights and outrages as are put upon me daily; but in theadvancement of the sacred cause in which we are engaged, we have toendure not only hardship and danger, but calumny and wrong, and may Godgive us strength to do our duty!' And then the General showed methe papers regarding the affair of that fellow Conway, whom Congresspromoted in spite of the intrigue, and down whose black throat JohnCadwalader sent the best ball he ever fired in his life.

  "And it was here," said Hal, concluding his story, "as I looked at theChief talking at night in the silence of the camp, and remembered howlonely he was, what an awful responsibility he carried, how spies andtraitors were eating out of his dish, and an enemy lay in front of himwho might at any time overpower him, that I thought, 'Sure, this is thegreatest man now in the world; and what a wretch I am to think of myjealousies and annoyances, whilst he is walking serenely under hisimmense cares!'"

  "We talked but now of Wolfe," said I. "Here, indeed, is a greater thanWolfe. To endure is greater than to dare; to tire out hostile fortune;to be daunted by no difficulty; to keep heart when all have lost it; togo through intrigue spotless; and to forgo even ambition when the end isgained--who can say this is not greatness, or show the other Englishmanwho has achieved so much?"

  "I wonder, Sir George, you did not take Mr. Washington's side, and wearthe blue and buff yourself," grumbles Parson Blake.

  "You and I thought scarlet most becoming to our complexion, Joe Blake!"says Sir George. "And my wife thinks there would not have been room fortwo such great men on one side."

  "Well, at any rate, you were better than that odious, swearing, crazyGeneral Lee, who was second in command!" cries Lady Warrington. "And Iam certain Mr. Washington never could write poetry and tragedies as youcan! What did the General say about George's tragedies, Harry?"

  Harry burst into a roar of laughter (in which, of course, Mr. Miles mustjoin his uncle).

  "Well!" says he, "it's a fact that Hagan read one at my house to theGeneral and Mrs. Washington and several more, and they all fell soundasleep!"

  "He never liked my husband, that is the truth!" says Theo, tossing upher head, "and 'tis all the more magnanimous of Sir George to speak sowell of him."

  And then Hal told how, his battles over, his country freed, his greatwork of liberation complete, the General laid down his victorious sword,and met his comrades of the army in a last adieu. The lastBritish soldier had quitted the shore of the Republic, and theCommander-in-Chief proposed to leave New York for Annapolis, whereCongress was sitting, and there resign his commission. About noon, onthe 4th December, a barge was in waiting at Whitehall Ferry to conveyhim across the Hudson. The chiefs of the army assembled at a tavern nearthe ferry
, and there the General joined them. Seldom as he showed hisemotion, outwardly, on this day he could not disguise it. He filled aglass of wine, and said, 'I bid you farewell with a heart full of loveand gratitude, and wish your latter days may be as prosperous and happyas those past have been glorious and honourable.' Then he drank to them.'I cannot come to each of you to take my leave,' he said, 'but shall beobliged if you will each come and shake me by the hand.'

  General Knox, who was nearest, came forward, and the Chief, with tearsin his eyes, embraced him. The others came, one by one, to him, andtook their leave without a word. A line of infantry was formed from thetavern to the ferry, and the General, with his officers following him,walked silently to the water. He stood up in the barge, taking off hishat, and waving a farewell. And his comrades remained bareheaded on theshore till their leader's boat was out of view.

  As Harry speaks very low, in the grey of evening, with sometimes a breakin his voice, we all sit touched and silent. Hetty goes up and kissesher father.

  "You tell us of others, General Harry," she says, passing a handkerchiefacross her eyes, "of Marion and Sumpter, of Greene and Wayne, and Rawdonand Cornwallis, too, but you never mention Colonel Warrington!"

  "My dear, he will tell you his story in private!" whispers my wife,clinging to her sister, "and you can write it for him."

  But it was not to be. My Lady Theo, and her husband too, I own, catchingthe infection from her, never would let Harry rest, until we had coaxed,wheedled, and ordered him to ask Hetty in marriage. He obeyed, and itwas she who now declined. "She had always," she said, "the truest regardfor him from the dear old times when they had met as almost childrentogether. But she would never leave her father. When it pleased God totake him, she hoped she would be too old to think of bearing any othername but her own. Harry should have her love always as the best ofbrothers; and as George and Theo have such a nurseryful of children,"adds Hester, "we must show our love to them, by saving for the youngones." She sent him her answer in writing, leaving home on a visit tofriends at a distance, as though she would have him to understand thather decision was final. As such Hal received it. He did not break hisheart. Cupid's arrows, ladies, don't bite very deep into the tough skinsof gentlemen of our age; though, to be sure, at the time of which Iwrite, my brother was still a young man, being little more than fifty.Aunt Het is now a staid little lady with a voice of which years havetouched the sweet chords, and a head which Time has powdered over withsilver. There are days when she looks surprisingly young and blooming.Ah me, my dear, it seems but a little while since the hair was goldenbrown, and the cheeks as fresh as roses! And then came the bitter blastof love unrequited which withered them; and that long loneliness ofheart which, they say, follows. Why should Theo and I have been sohappy, and thou so lonely? Why should my meal be garnished with love,and spread with plenty, while yon solitary outcast shivers at my gate? Ibow my head humbly before the Dispenser of pain and poverty, wealth andhealth; I feel sometimes as if, for the prizes which have fallen to thelot of me unworthy, I did not dare to be grateful. But I hear the voicesof my children in their garden, or look up at their mother from my book,or perhaps my sick-bed, and my heart fills with instinctive gratitudetowards the bountiful Heaven that has so blest me.

  Since my accession to my uncle's title and estate my intercourse withmy good cousin Lord Castlewood had been very rare. I had always supposedhim to be a follower of the winning side in politics, and was not alittle astonished to hear of his sudden appearance in opposition. Adisappointment in respect to a place at court, of which he pretended tohave had some promise, was partly the occasion of his rupture with theMinistry. It is said that the most August Person in the realm had flatlyrefused to receive into the R-y-l Household a nobleman whose characterwas so notoriously bad, and whose example (so the August Objector waspleased to say) would ruin and corrupt any respectable family. I heardof the Castlewoods during our travels in Europe, and that the mania forplay had again seized upon his lordship. His impaired fortunes havingbeen retrieved by the prudence of his wife and father-in-law, he hadagain begun to dissipate his income at hombre and lansquenet. Therewere tales of malpractices in which he had been discovered, and even ofchastisement inflicted upon him by the victims of his unscrupulousarts. His wife's beauty and freshness faded early; we met but once atAix-la-Chapelle, where Lady Castlewood besought my wife to go andsee her, and afflicted Lady Warrington's kind heart by stories of theneglect and outrage of which her unfortunate husband was guilty. We werewilling to receive these as some excuse and palliation for the unhappylady's own conduct. A notorious adventurer, gambler, and spadassin,calling himself the Chevalier de Barry, and said to be a relative ofthe mistress of the French King, but afterwards turning out to be anIrishman of low extraction, was in constant attendance upon the Earl andCountess at this time, and conspicuous for the audacity of his lies, theextravagance of his play, and somewhat mercenary gallantry towards theother sex, and a ferocious bravo courage, which, however, failed himon one or two awkward occasions, if common report said true. Hesubsequently married, and rendered miserable a lady of title and fortunein England. The poor little American lady's interested union with LordCastlewood was scarcely more happy.

  I remember our little Miles's infantile envy being excited by learningthat Lord Castlewood's second son, a child a few months younger thanhimself, was already an ensign on the Irish establishment, whose pay thefond parents regularly drew. This piece of preferment my lord must havegot for his cadet whilst he was on good terms with the Minister, duringwhich period of favour Will Esmond was also shifted off to New York.Whilst I was in America myself, we read in an English journal thatCaptain Charles Esmond had resigned his commission in his Majesty'sservice, as not wishing to take up arms against the countrymen of hismother, the Countess of Castlewood. "It is the doing of the old fox, Vanden Bosch," Madam Esmond said; "he wishes to keep his Virginian propertysafe, whatever side should win!" I may mention, with respect to thisold worthy, that he continued to reside in England for a while after theDeclaration of Independence, not at all denying his sympathy with theAmerican cause, but keeping a pretty quiet tongue, and alleging thatsuch a very old man as himself was past the age of action or mischief,in which opinion the Government concurred, no doubt, as he was leftquite unmolested. But of a sudden a warrant was out after him, when itwas surprising with what agility he stirred himself, and skipped off toFrance, whence he presently embarked upon his return to Virginia.

  The old man bore the worst reputation amongst the Loyalists of ourcolony; and was nicknamed "Jack the Painter" amongst them, much tohis indignation, after a certain miscreant who was hung in Englandfor burning naval stores in our ports there. He professed to havelost prodigious sums at home by the persecution of the Government,distinguished himself by the loudest patriotism and the most violentreligious outcries in Virginia; where, nevertheless, he was not muchmore liked by the Whigs than by the party who still remained faithfulto the Crown. He wondered that such an old Tory as Madam Esmond ofCastlewood was suffered to go at large, and was for ever crying outagainst her amongst the gentlemen of the new Assembly, the Governor, andofficers of the State. He and Fanny had high words in Richmond oneday, when she told him he was an old swindler and traitor, and that themother of Colonel Henry Warrington, the bosom friend of his Excellencythe Commander-in-Chief, was not to be insulted by such a littlesmuggling slave-driver as him! I think it was in the year 1780 anaccident happened, when the old Register Office at Williamsburg wasburned down, in which there was a copy of the formal assignment of theVirginia property from Francis Lord Castlewood to my grandfather HenryEsmond, Esquire. "Oh," says Fanny, "of course this is the work of Jackthe Painter!" And Mr. Van den Bosch was for prosecuting her for libel,but that Fanny took to her bed at this juncture, and died.

  Van den Bosch made contracts with the new Government, and sold thembargains, as the phrase is. He supplied horses, meat, forage, all of badquality; but when Arnold came into Virginia (in the King's service) andburned rig
ht and left, Van den Bosch's stores and tobacco-houses somehowwere spared. Some secret Whigs now took their revenge on the old rascal.A couple of his ships in James River, his stores, and a quantity of hiscattle in their stalls were roasted amidst a hideous bellowing; andhe got a note, as he was in Arnold's company, saying that friendshad served him as he served others; and containing "Tom the Glazier'scompliments to brother Jack the Painter." Nobody pitied the old man,though he went well-nigh mad at his loss. In Arnold's suite camethe Honourable Captain William Esmond, of the New York Loyalists, asaide-de-camp to the General. When Howe occupied Philadelphia, Will wassaid to have made some money keeping a gambling-house with an officerof the dragoons of Anspach. I know not how he lost it. He could not havehad much when he consented to become an aide-de-camp of Arnold.

  Now, the King's officers having reappeared in the province, Madam Esmondthought fit to open her house at Castlewood and invite them thither--andactually received Mr. Arnold and his suite. "It is not for me," shesaid, "to refuse my welcome to a man whom my Sovereign has admitted tograce." And she threw her house open to him, and treated him with greatthough frigid respect whilst he remained in the district. The Generalgone, and, his precious aide-de-camp with him, some of the rascals whofollowed in their suite remained behind in the house where they hadreceived so much hospitality, insulted the old lady in her hall,insulted her people, and finally set fire to the old mansion in a frolicof drunken fury. Our house at Richmond was not burned, luckily, thoughMr. Arnold had fired the town; and thither the undaunted old ladyproceeded, surrounded by her people, and never swerving in her loyalty,in spite of her ill-usage. "The Esmonds," she said, "were accustomed toRoyal ingratitude."

  And now Mr. Van den Bosch, in the name of his grandson and my LordCastlewood, in England, set up a claim to our property in Virginia.He said it was not my lord's intention to disturb Madam Esmond in herenjoyment of the estate during her life, but that his father, it hadalways been understood, had given his kinsman a life-interest in theplace, and only continued it to his daughter out of generosity. Now mylord proposed that his second son should inhabit Virginia, for whichthe young gentleman had always shown the warmest sympathy. The outcryagainst Van den Bosch was so great that he would have been tarred andfeathered, had he remained in Virginia. He betook himself to Congress,represented himself as a martyr ruined in the cause of liberty, andprayed for compensation for himself and justice for his grandson.

  My mother lived long in dreadful apprehension, having in truth a secret,which she did not like to disclose to any one. Her titles were burned!the deed of assignment in her own house, the copy in the Registry atRichmond, had alike been destroyed--by chance? by villainy? who couldsay? She did not like to confide this trouble in writing to me.She opened herself to Hal, after the surrender of York Town, and heacquainted me with the fact in a letter by a British officer returninghome on his parole. Then I remembered the unlucky words I had let slipbefore Will Esmond at the coffee-house at New York; and a part of thisiniquitous scheme broke upon me.

  As for Mr. Will: there is a tablet in Castlewood Church, in Hampshire,inscribed, Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori, and announcing that"This marble is placed by a mourning brother, to the memory of theHonourable William Esmond, Esquire, who died in North America, in theservice of his King." But how? When, towards the end of 1781, a revolttook place in the Philadelphia Line of the Congress Army, and Sir HenryClinton sent out agents to the mutineers, what became of them? The mentook the spies prisoners, and proceeded to judge them, and my brother(whom they knew and loved, and had often followed under fire), who hadbeen sent from camp to make terms with the troops, recognised one of thespies, just as execution was about to be done upon him--and the wretch,with horrid outcries, grovelling and kneeling at Colonel Warrington'sfeet, besought him for mercy, and promised to confess all to him. Toconfess what? Harry turned away sick at heart. Will's mother and sisternever knew the truth. They always fancied it was in action he waskilled.

  As for my lord earl, whose noble son has been the intendant of anillustrious Prince, and who has enriched himself at play with his R---lmaster: I went to see his lordship when I heard of this astoundingdesign against our property, and remonstrated with him on the matter.For myself, as I showed him, I was not concerned, as I had determinedto cede my right to my brother. He received me with perfect courtesy;smiled when I spoke of my disinterestedness; said he was sure of myaffectionate feelings towards my brother, but what must be his towardshis son? He had always heard from his father: he would take his Bibleoath of that: that, at my mother's death, the property would return tothe head of the family. At the story of the title which Colonel Esmondhad ceded, he shrugged his shoulders, and treated it as a fable. "Onne fait pas de ces folies la!" says he, offering me snuff, "and yourgrandfather was a man of esprit! My little grandmother was eprise ofhim: and my father, the most good-natured soul alive, lent them theVirginian property to get them out of the way! C'etoit un scandale, moncher, un joli petit scandale!" Oh, if my mother had but heard him! Imight have been disposed to take a high tone: but he said, with theutmost good-nature, "My dear Knight, are you going to fight about thecharacter of our grandmother? Allons donc! Come, I will be fair withyou! We will compromise, if you like, about this Virginian property!"and his lordship named a sum greater than the actual value of theestate.

  Amazed at the coolness of this worthy, I walked away to my coffee-house,where, as it happened, an old friend was to dine with me, for whom Ihave a sincere regard. I had felt a pang at not being able to give thisgentleman my living of Warrington--on-Waveney, but I could not, as hehimself confessed honestly. His life had been too loose, and his examplein my village could never have been edifying: besides, he would havedied of ennui there, after being accustomed to a town life; and he hada prospect finally, he told me, of settling himself most comfortably inLondon and the church. [He was the second Incumbent of Lady Whittlesea'sChapel, Mayfair, and married Elizabeth, relict of Hermann Voelcker,Esq., the eminent brewer.] My guest, I need not say, was my old friendSampson, who never failed to dine with me when I came to town, and Itold him of my interview with his old patron.

  I could not have lighted upon a better confidant. "Gracious powers!"says Sampson, "the man's roguery beats all belief! When I was secretaryand factotum at Castlewood, I can take my oath I saw more than once acopy of the deed of assignment by the late lord to your grandfather:'In consideration of the love I bear to my kinsman Henry Esmond,Esq., husband of my dear mother Rachel, Lady Viscountess Dowager ofCastlewood, I, etc.'--so it ran. I know the place where 'tis kept--letus go thither as fast as horses will carry us to-morrow. There issomebody there--never mind whom, Sir George--who has an old regard forme. The papers may be there to this very day, and O Lord, O Lord, but Ishall be thankful if I can in any way show my gratitude to you and yourglorious brother!" His eyes filled with tears. He was an altered man.At a certain period of the port wine Sampson always alluded withcompunction to his past life, and the change which had taken place inhis conduct since the awful death of his friend Doctor Dodd.

  Quick as we were, we did not arrive at Castlewood too soon. I waslooking at the fountain in the court, and listening to that sweet sadmusic of its plashing, which my grandfather tells of in his memoires,and peopling the place with bygone figures, with Beatrix in her beauty;with my Lord Francis in scarlet, calling to his dogs and mountinghis grey horse; with the young page of old who won the castle and theheiress--when Sampson comes running down to me with an old volume inrough calf-bound in his hand, containing drafts of letters, copiesof agreements, and various writings, some by a secretary of my LordFrancis, some in the slim handwriting of his wife my grandmother, somebearing the signature of the last lord; and here was a copy of theassignment sure enough, as it had been sent to my grandfather inVirginia. "Victoria, Victoria!" cries Sampson, shaking my hand,embracing everybody. "Here is a guinea for thee, Betty. We'll have abowl of punch at the Three Castles to-night!" As we were talking, thewheels of postchaises were heard, and a
couple of carriages drove intothe court containing my lord and a friend, and their servants in thenext vehicle. His lordship looked only a little paler than usual atseeing me.

  "What procures me the honour of Sir George Warrington's visit, andpray, Mr. Sampson, what do you do here?" says my lord. I think he hadforgotten the existence of this book, or had never seen it; and when heoffered to take his Bible oath of what he had heard from his father, hadsimply volunteered a perjury.

  I was shaking hands with his companion, a nobleman with whom I had hadthe honour to serve in America. "I came," I said, "to convince myself ofa fact, about which you were mistaken yesterday; and I find the proofin your lordship's own house. Your lordship was pleased to take yourlordship's Bible oath, that there was no agreement between your fatherand his mother, relative to some property which I hold. When Mr. Sampsonwas your lordship's secretary, he perfectly remembered having seen acopy of such an assignment, and here it is."

  "And do you mean, Sir George Warrington, that unknown to me you havebeen visiting my papers?" cries my lord.

  "I doubted the correctness of your statement, though backed by yourlordship's Bible oath," I said with a bow.

  "This, sir, is robbery! Give the papers back!" bawled my lord.

  "Robbery is a rough word, my lord. Shall I tell the whole story to LordRawdon?"

  "What, is it about the Marquisate? Connu, connu, my dear Sir George! Wealways called you the Marquis in New York. I don't know who brought thestory from Virginia."

  I never had heard this absurd nickname before, and did not careto notice it. "My Lord Castlewood," I said, "not only doubted, butyesterday laid a claim to my property, taking his Bible oath that----"

  Castlewood gave a kind of gasp, and then said, "Great heaven! Do youmean, Sir George, that there actually is an agreement extant? Yes. Hereit is--my father's handwriting, sure enough! Then the question is clear.Upon my o----well, upon my honour as a gentleman! I never knew of suchan agreement, and must have been mistaken in what my father said. Thispaper clearly shows the property is yours: and not being mine--why, Iwish you joy of it!" and he held out his hand with the blandest smile.

  "And how thankful you will be to me, my lord, for having enabled him toestablish the right," says Sampson, with a leer on his face.

  "Thankful? No, confound you. Not in the least!" says my lord. "I am aplain man; I don't disguise from my cousin that I would rather havehad the property than he. Sir George, you will stay and dine with us.A large party is coming down here shooting; we ought to have you one ofus!"

  "My lord," said I, buttoning the book under my coat, "I will go and getthis document copied, and then return it to your lordship. As my motherin Virginia has had her papers burned, she will be put out of muchanxiety by having this assignment safely lodged."

  "What, have Madam Esmond's papers been burned? When the deuce was that?"asks my lord.

  "My lord, I wish you a very good afternoon. Come, Sampson, you and Iwill go and dine at the Three Castles." And I turned on my heel, makinga bow to Lord R------, and from that day to this I have never set myfoot within the halls of my ancestors.

  Shall I ever see the old mother again, I wonder? She lives in Richmond,never having rebuilt her house in the country. When Hal was in England,we sent her pictures of both her sons, painted by the admirable SirJoshua Reynolds. We sate to him, the last year Mr. Johnson was alive, Iremember. And the Doctor, peering about the studio, and seeing the imageof Hal in his uniform (the appearance of it caused no little excitementin those days), asked who was this? and was informed that it was thefamous American General--General Warrington, Sir George's brother."General Who?" cries the Doctor, "General Where? Pooh! I don't know sucha service!" and he turned his back and walked out of the premises. Myworship is painted in scarlet, and we have replicas of both performancesat home. But the picture which Captain Miles and the girls declare to bemost like is a family sketch by my ingenious neighbour, Mr. Bunbury, whohas drawn me and my lady with Monsieur Gumbo following us, and writtenunder the piece, "SIR GEORGE, MY LADY, AND THEIR MASTER."

  Here my master comes; he has poked out all the house-fires, has lookedto all the bolts, has ordered the whole male and female crew to theirchambers; and begins to blow my candles out, and says, "Time, SirGeorge, to go to bed! Twelve o'clock!"

  "Bless me! So indeed it is." And I close my book, and go to my rest,with a blessing on those now around me asleep.

  THE END