The Lost Hunter

by John Turvill Adams

  CHAPTER VII.

  "Arma, virumque cano qui Primus." VIRGIL

  The season had now advanced to within a few days of that joyous periodof the year, when the Governors of the several New England States arewont to call the people to a public acknowledgment of the favors ofDivine Providence. At the time of which we write, their Excellenciesrequired the citizens to be thankful "according to law," and "allservile labor and vain recreation," on said day, were "by lawforbidden," and not, as at present, invited them to assemble in theirrespective churches, to unite in an expression of gratitude totheir Heavenly Benefactor. Whether the change from a command to aninvitation, or permission to engage in the sports which were beforeforbidden, has been attended with any evil consequences, we leaveto the individual judgment of our readers to determine. But whethercommanded or invited, the people always welcomed the season offestivity with preaching and praying, and an indiscriminate slaughterof all the fat turkeys and chickens on which they could lay theirhands.

  The yellow and crimson maple leaf had faded on the trees into moresombre colors, or, falling to the ground, been whirled by the windamong heaps of other leaves, where its splendor no more attractedattention. Of the gaiety of autumn, only the red bunches of the sumachwere left as a parting present to welcome winter in. The querulousnote of the quail had long been heard calling to his truant mate, andreproaching her for wandering from his jealous side; the robins hadeither sought a milder climate or were collected in the savin-bushes,in whose evergreen branches they found shelter, and on whose berriesthey love to feed; and little schoolboys were prowling about, busycollecting barrels for Thanksgiving bonfires.

  It was a beautiful clear morning in Thanksgiving-week, when aside gate, that admitted to the yard or inclosure in front of Mr.Armstrong's house, opened, and a negro, with a round good-naturedface, and rather foppishly dressed, stepped out upon the walk. But,before paying our respects to Mr. Felix Qui, it may not be altogetheramiss to give some description of the house of Mr. Armstrong, asrepresenting the better class of dwelling-houses in our villages, atthe time.

  It was a large, two-story wood building, painted white, with greenblinds, and consisted of a main body nearly fifty feet square, inwhich, were the apartments for the family, and of an L, as it wascalled, from the shape it gave the building, running back, and devotedto the kitchen and sleeping chambers of the servants. The height ofthe stories in this L was somewhat less than in the front part of thehouse, indicating thereby, perhaps, the more humble relation in whichit stood to the latter. Three large chimneys rose above the roof, twofrom the principal building and one from the kitchen. A wide hall inthe centre, swept through the whole length without interference fromthe rear building, which might be considered as a continuation ofsomewhat less than one-half of the part in front. The wood-house stoodon the same side as the kitchen, some twenty feet distant; and stillfurther back, a large barn, also of wood, and painted a light leadcolor, with the exception of the cornice and trimmings about the doorsand windows, which were white. The house itself stood some fifty feetback from the high road, and was surrounded by enormous elms, thoseglories of the cultivated American landscape, some measuring four andfive feet in diameter, and throwing their gracefully drooping branchesfar and high over the roof, to which, in the heat of summer, theyfurnished an acceptable shade. The prospect in front, and lookingbetween two rows of maples that lined the road, comprehended theYaupaae, expanded into a lake, green fields and apple orchards runningdown to the water's edge, and hills, clothed to the top with verdure,rolling away like gigantic waves into the distance. Behind the housewas a garden and orchard of, perhaps, two acres, terminating in asmall evergreen wood of hemlocks and savins, interspersed with a fewnoble oaks. Mr. Armstrong had laid out several winding paths throughthis little wood, and placed here and there a rustic seat; and thetaste of his daughter had embellished it with a few flowers. HereFaith had taught the moss pink to throw its millions of starryblossoms in early spring over the moist ground, after the modesttrailing arbutus, from its retreat beneath the hemlocks, had exhaustedits sweet breath; here, later in the season, the wild columbinewondered at the neighborhood of the damask rose; here, in the warmdays of summer, or in the delicious moonlight evenings, she loved towander, either alone or with her father, in its cool paths.

  Still more beautiful than the prospect from the front door, were theviews from this charming spot. Rising to a considerable elevationabove the river to which it descended with a rapid slope, it commandednot only the former view to the south, though more extended, but alsoone to the northwest. Beneath, at a depression of eighty feet, lay thelake-like river with its green islets dotting the surface, while, ata short distance, the Fall of the Yaupaae precipitated itself over arocky declivity, mingling, in the genial season of the year, a noblebass with the songs of birds and the sighing of the wind, and addingto and deepening in the rougher months, the roar of the tempest. Asmall stream diverted from the river, turned the wheel of a moss-growngrist-mill, which was nestled under large willows at the foot ofthe rocks, and conveyed the idea of the presence of man, withoutdetracting from the wild beauty of the scenery.

  Now, alas, how is all changed! _Heu! quantum mutatus ab illo Hectore_!The grist-mill has disappeared! A row of willows which skirted theroad that winding by the margin of the cove, led to it, has been cutdown; and huge brick and stone factories of paper and cotton goods,gloomy and stern-like evil genii, brood over the scene, and allthrough the day and into the night, with grinding cylinders, andbuzzing spindles and rattling looms, strive to drown, with harshdiscords, the music of the waterfall. One of the little islands hasbeen joined to the main land with gravel carted into the river, and ableach-house or some other abomination erected upon it. The place isdisenchanted. The sad Genius of Romance who once loved to stretch hislimbs upon the mossy rocks, and catch inspiration from watching thefoam and listening to the roar, has departed with a shriek, never toreturn.

  Felix, when he found himself outside of the gate, gazed up and downthe street, as if uncertain in which direction to proceed. After amomentary hesitation, and drawing a pair of gloves over his hands, heseemed to have made up his mind, and at a lounging pace, directed hiscourse up, that is towards the north. He had not gone far when he sawcoming towards him a person of his own color, who until then had beenhid by a turn in the road. No one else was in sight, the spot beingthe piece of table-land mentioned in a previous chapter, about ahalf mile from the thickly settled part of the town, which was at thebottom of the hill near the confluence of the rivers. Here were noshops or public buildings, but only private residences from thirty tofifty rods apart, and inhabited by a few families a little wealthier,perhaps, for the most part, than the others.

  It was a man, still hale and hearty, though what his age was it mightbe difficult to say. He might have been sixty or even seventy. TheAfrican race does not betray the secret of age as readily as thewhite. Probably the man did not know himself, nor is it of importance.He moved with a jerk, and upon a nearer approach it appeared that thelower part of one of his legs was made of wood. He must have been,however, long accustomed to it, for as he moved rather sedately along,it seemed to occasion him but little inconvenience. When sufficientlynear, Felix, touching his cap with great politeness, bade him goodmorning, by the title of General. But who our new acquaintance is, wemay as well tell here as anywhere else.

  The old negro, then approaching, was one of those, the number of whom,although small compared with that of the white troops engaged inthe war of the Revolution, was still considerable enough not to beentirely overlooked. His name was Primus Ransome, and at an earlyperiod he had enlisted into the army, and served until disabled bythe loss of a leg, when he found himself in rags, with an excellentcharacter for bravery and general good conduct, minus the member leftat Yorktown, and a candidate for any such bounty as the exhaustedmeans of the country and the liberality of Congress might grant. Hecontrived somehow to return to the town of Hillsdale, where, in ach
eckered life, he had happened to pass two or three of his happiestyears, and there prepared to enjoy that liberty he had helped toachieve. His good character, cheerful temper, and the services he hadperformed made him a general favorite. Yet, notwithstanding, he foundit at first hard to get along. His military habits had incapacitatedhim for long continued industry, and an invitation to a social glassor an opportunity to tell one of his campaigning stories, was at anytime temptation sufficient to wile him away from labor. There was nogentleman's kitchen where Primus was not treated with kindness, andwhere he did not receive all he asked but he had some pride, and wasunwilling to abuse the offered hospitality. Thus, working a littleat digging in gardens and cutting wood and such other odd jobs ashe could obtain, and making calls at the kitchens, and telling longstories about Monmouth, and Trenton, and the siege of Yorktown, whatwith the money he got, and the presents made him at Thanksgivingand Christmas, and other odd times, Primus roughed it along, aftera fashion, until Congress found itself in a condition to give him apension. It came late to be sure, and was small, but then so were hiswants. It was regularly paid and certain, and joined to the advantageshe already possessed, constituted an ample fortune. Before he gothis pension, poor Primus would sometimes cast a rueful glance at hiswooden leg, and think to himself he had paid a pretty dear price forindependence; and at such times, it must be confessed, his patriotismran to a low ebb. He knew no Latin, and therefore could not say, "_sicvos non vobis_," &c., yet he thought it. But after he obtained hislittle annuity, the love of country of the Horatii or Curiatii wasfrigid to his. He was never weary of boasting of its freedom, of itsgreatness, and of General Washington. It was observed that as hegrew older his stories became longer and more incredible, and hispatriotism hotter. His own personal exploits too, occupied a widerspace in his narratives. To believe him, the number of British andHessians conquered by his single arm would have composed a regiment;and, indeed, it was difficult to conceive how the struggle could havebeen brought to a successful issue without his assistance.

  "Good morning, General," said Felix, politely touching his cap.

  "Good warning, Missa Qui I hope I see you well dis pleasant marning.How Miss Rosa?" inquired Primus, at the same time making a militarysalute with the back of his hand.

  "Miss Rosa is well, thank you, sir. As for this genlman, he is alwayswell," said Felix, laying his hand on his breast.

  "Fine day for walking, sir. Sorry you going de oder way, Missa Qui.Suppose you hab business."

  "I walk out for the exercise. I have not take exercise enough latelyfor the health."

  At this moment the eye of Primus caught sight of a white piece ofpaper sticking out of a corner of Felix's pocket, and he suspected theerrand on which the latter was sent, so he added:

  "You celumbrate Tanksgiving in de usual style at your house dis year,I presume."

  "Some witch tell you, General. Haw, haw!"

  "De ole chimbly smoke extrorninary at dis season. De chickens and deturkies know dat chimbly well."

  "Guess they do," said Felix. "General Ransome, can you keep a secret?"

  "I is close as Missa Pint pocket, dat button all round," said the oldnegro.

  "Then I have no objections to tell you, General, that I give out someinvite this morning to ladies and genlmen to take dinner at my house,Thanksgiving Day."

  "Hab you one for me?"

  "Look for yourself, sir," said Felix, pulling out two or three billetsfrom the left pocket of his waistcoat, and presenting them to theother. "You sociate with General Washington and all the great men, andread writing, sure."

  Primus took the billets into his hands, and ran his eye over thesuperscriptions, with an air of the most perfect confidence, then,shaking his head, returned them to Felix, observing:

  "Dere is none here for me."

  "Perhaps there is one for you in this pocket," continued Felix,fumbling on the other side, and producing another billet. Primuslooked, but shook his head as before. "Have the extreme goodness,"said Felix, who began to be considerably mystified by the serious airof the other, and half-disposed to believe that he might have someknowledge of the mystic characters, "to tell me who this little noteis intend for."

  Primus knew very well the intimate relations existing between thefamilies of the Armstrongs and Bernards, and that the formeroften took their Christmas dinner with the latter, while again theArmstrongs reciprocated the civility by inviting the Bernards, whowere Episcopalians, to the feast of Thanksgiving. Moreover, he had metFelix going in a direction towards the house of Mr. Bernard, whichwas close by. Putting these circumstances together, the old soldierthought that he might venture a guess, which, if it succeeded, wouldredound greatly to the credit of his learning, and, which, if itfailed, could entail on him no other harm than the laugh of Felix.Assuming, therefore, a knowing look, he said:

  "Dat is berry easy to read. Any man wid any larning at all, can seede billet is intend for Missa Judge Bernard." He saw by the distendedeyes of Mr. Qui that his guess had struck the mark, and fearful ofbeing requested to decipher the other superscriptions, hastily added:

  "But what for I stop here, wasting my precious time, and keepingyou from doing you master's arrant? I hab de honor to wish you goodmarning, Missa Qui." So saying, Primus turned round and stumpedoff half a dozen steps, before the bewildered Felix recovered hisfaculties.

  "Stop, General," at last exclaimed Felix, as soon as he regained hisspeech, running after him and taking hold of his arm, "allow me, aword with you"

  "I is berry busy dis marning," cried Primus, struggling to get free;"Missa Pownal want my sarvices; de doctor is anxious to insult wid me;and de 'Piscopal minister hab someting 'portant to communicate."

  "I inspect he want you to write the Thanksgiving sermon," said Felix,grinning. "But, General, I have really an invite for you. I forgot towrite the note before I leave home, and so you must, 'scuse the wantof style. I have the honor to ask you, General, to take your dinner,on that glorious day, with Miss Rosa and I."

  "Dat alter de case intirely," said Primus, losing his dread of readingbillets, and forgetting his hurry in the pleasure received from theinvitation; "dat alter de case entirely. You is a genlman, and berrypolite, Missa Qui, and Miss Rosa is beyond 'spression. Dere is fewob de fair sec equal Miss Rosa. Let me see," he continued, with athoughtful air, and looking on the ground, "whedder I not disappointsome genlman. When I come round de corner I see Missa Tracy boy goingtoward my house. Now, probably he bring invite for me. But you inviteis de fust, Missa Qui, and it is hard to desist de attraction ob MissRosa and youself, and I will do myself de honor to wait on you. Sorry,howebber to disappoint Missa Tracy." Primus had now embarked on thefull tide of his garrulity, and casting out of mind his regret for notbeing able to accept the imaginary invitation to Mr. Tracy's, went on:

  "'Pears to me a great 'vantage, Missa Qui, dat some folks is'Piscopalians, and some Presbyterians."

  Felix looked as if he failed to apprehend the meaning of his friend.

  "'Cause," said Primus, "dat make two grand dinner, and you and me isdere to eat 'em."

  Felix had now fairly caught the other's meaning, and the two explodedin bursts of laughter.

  "You have right to say so, General, and the observation do you greathonor. And that is the reason I inspect that you are 'Peskypalian."

  "I surprise to hear you say so ob your ole friend," said Primus,drawing himself up with an air of offended dignity. "No, sar, dat isnot de reason. De reason I is 'Piscopalian is, 'cause I belong to deregulars."

  "I never hear tell the 'Peskypalians is more regulars than otherfolks," said Felix.

  "You is a young man (the difference in their ages might be half adozen years), and cannot be 'spected to know ebbery ting. If you gibme your 'tention, I make it all plain as de road Gineral Washingtonshow de British out ob de country. You see when I was in de army in deglorious war ob de Resolution, we say prayers sometime as well as youfolks who stay at home, and don't do none ob de fightin. And so whende drum beat,
ebbery man must be at his post. Den come de chaplain allin his regimental, and put de book on de big drum, and kneel down, andGineral Washington he kneel down, too, and de chaplain say some prayerdat sound like de roll ob de drum itself. O, it was so beautiful, andI always feel better arter-wards. Dere nebber was much uniform in dearmy, but what dere was, de regulars is entitle to it. I nebber tinkde soger look just de ting widout de regimental. Now, look at de'Piscopal minister in de pulpit, in de lily-white and de black gown.De fust is for white folks, and de oder out of respec' for us coloredpussons. Dey is his regimental. He look like a regular soger obde Lord. But see de Presbyterian. He hab no uniform at all. He onymilishy officer."

  Felix, who, as in duty bound, was as zealous a Presbyterian (as theCongregationalists in New England were generally called) as Primus wasan Episcopalian, was scandalized at such language. He half regrettedhaving given the invitation to the dinner, and it is highly probablethat, if he had heard General Ransome's speech before, that gentlemanwould have so far talked himself out of his good graces (a misfortunethat sometimes happens to extraordinary eloquence), as to have lostthe object of his anxiety, and, like the nightingale in Cowper'sfable, have "sought his dinner somewhere else." But Primus saw thegathering storm and hastened to avert its discharge.

  "I hab great respec'," he said, "for the milishy. Dey is excellent forskirmishing, and where ebbery man hab to fight on his own hook, butwhen it come to de hard fightin' de regulars is de men to be dependon. And den," added he, "dere is odder reasons: I like de exercise inde church better. I like dere taste, too, when dey ornaments de churchwid greens at Christmas. It make de winter look kind o' young andhappy."

  Felix was easily propitiated. He might be offended with his comrade,but his anger could not last. It had passed away, before Primus hadconcluded his conciliatory remarks. In fact, the two cronies were toonecessary to each other's happiness to allow of a long quarrel,and for all Felix's reverence for his master's "meeting," he was asplacable as zealous, nor would the famous festival have been agenuine Thanksgiving without his old friend to help him to discuss itsluxuries. They shook hands at parting, and Mr. Qui promised to presentthe complemens of the General to Miss Rosa.

  As Felix pursued his way alone, having no one else to talk to, he gavehimself the benefit of his conversation.

  "That General," he said, aloud, "is a wonderful man. I never respectedhim before of knowing how to read writin'. I don't believe, after all,he does know how. But when he took the billets in his hand, he sort o'give 'em a squint as if he knew all about it Who learned him? Perhapshe does and perhaps he doesn't. I wonder, too, how he missed all thebullets he preaches about sometimes, with losing only one leg. I heardhim say, fifty times, they come like an April shower. Now, if he hada hundred legs, it seems to me they ought all to be smashed. I'spect, as I heard the doctor say once, he draws on the fact for his'magination. But what can you 'spect, Felix, from a 'Peskypalian? Theythink so much of gitting up and setting down, as if there was religionin moving the legs. But let me see about the billets. Miss Faith toldme to put the Bernards' in this pocket, and the minister's in this,and the doctor's in this other one. Ah, all right! The doctor is avery curus person. I wonder what makes him talk so much about a man hecalls Shakspeare. I heard him say he lived a great many years ago, Iguess with Joshua and David, when there was so much fighting goingon, and when they hadn't no guns. Perhaps he was Goliah's brother, whocome out with shield and spear. Well, there is no sogers with spearsnow-a-days. It's my opinion, give old Prime a loaded musket with abaggonet, and he'd do more work than Goliah and Shakspeare together,with their spears. But, here, I am near the Judge's. Now, sir, mindyour eye, and see that you maintain the spectability of the family".Saying this, Felix drew himself up, adjusted his neckerchief, andstrutted somewhat pompously into the yard of the Judge, whence he soonfound his way into the kitchen. The invitations to the Bernards werein due form delivered, as were the others, and accepted.