The prisoner of the border a tale of 1838 |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
7. |
8. | CHAPTER VIII.
BARAK, THE AGITATOR. |
9. |
10. |
11. |
12. |
13. |
14. |
15. |
16. |
17. |
18. |
19. |
20. |
21. |
22. |
23. |
24. |
25. |
26. |
27. |
28. |
29. |
30. |
31. |
32. |
33. |
34. |
35. |
36. |
37. |
38. |
39. |
40. |
41. |
42. |
43. |
44. |
45. |
46. |
47. |
48. |
CHAPTER VIII.
BARAK, THE AGITATOR. The prisoner of the border | ||
8. CHAPTER VIII.
BARAK, THE AGITATOR.
Of Captain and Lieutenant Vrail's journey to the North, it is
not necessary particularly to speak. The few recruits from H—
did not all leave town together, nor of course, with any degree of
parade, which could distinguish them as men bound on a military
expedition. The brothers were accompanied by Brom, who was
allowed an outside seat upon the stage-coach, in company with the
driver, with whom, in his frequent stoppings at the village, the
negro had long before become acquainted.
He knew well, too, every member of the strong, and glossy
team which pranced and curveted beneath the lash of his companion,
having often assisted in giving them water in front of the
village inn, at a time when he little dreamed of ever arriving at so
distinguished an honor as riding behind them on a journey to
Albany.
A happy man was Brom, and so exuberant were his spirits that
he had frequently to repeat to himself a caution which Harry had
impressed upon his mind, to say nothing on the subject of his
journey, although, if he had been disposed to be communicative,
he could have told the coachman very little which he did not
already know, either about his new passengers, or the errand upon
which they were bound. He sounded the negro at times, indeed,
for his own amusement, when the latter would look very grave,
and shake his head, and say that he was travelling for his health.
“The truth is,” said Brom, with a merry twinkle of his eyes,
“I have been very much confined for the last thirty years” (he had
never been ten miles from the place of his birth), “and I don't
think it agrees with me, so I'm going to try travelling.”
“You are not very pale, Brom.”
“Yhah! yhah! yhah! no, I'se got some color left—yhah!
yhah!”
“But ain't you really afraid, now,” asked the other, sinking his
voice into a confidential whisper; “ain't you afraid of going to
Canada to fight the red-coats?”
“You jes mind your own business, and give that off leader there
another clip—see how he lags. Ef you don't look sharp, I'll go
and ride inside with the rest of the gemmen.”
One of the places of rendezvous for the attack now in contemplation,
by those in command, was Oswego and its vicinity and the
point of intended entrance into Canada was near the village of
Prescott, on the St. Lawrence river, where Fort Wellington, well
garrisoned by the British, was to be the first object of assault.
Our travellers were supplied, as has been said, with all the requisite
signs and passwords with which to recognize their fellow
“hunters,” wherever they might meet them; but these signals
became scarcely necessary as they drew near the place of embarkation,
so general and so wide-spread among all classes was the
sentiment in favor of the pending movement. Still, in all the large
towns through which the various recruits passed, it was necessary to
avoid any open avowal of their destination, if they would have the
connivance of the officers of the Federal government, many of
whom were willing to wink at the offenders, as far as their own
official safety would possibly permit.
Numerous secret agents were on duty at Syracuse, and other
prominent points on the Western Railroad vigilantly watching all
the arrivals at the public houses, and secretly applying a test
question to all whose destination was northward, which, if comprehended,
information in regard to the best mode of advancing to Oswego.
Several canal boats had been chartered, and were lying in the
basin at the first named village, ready to start for the lake-port,
which is only thirty miles distant. They were of the class of
freight vessels usually called “line-boats,” and were capable of
carrying several hundred persons each, in a manner little calculated
to attract attention in the emigrating season, when almost
every westward bound craft was thronged with human beings.
Indeed in so cool a month as November, the voyagers could
remain entirely concealed, if they chose, beneath the high decks
which extended almost the whole length of the boat. This mode of
travel was compulsory upon none, and was designed chiefly for
the humbler class of recruits, who were glad to avail themselves of
the cheapest mode of progress.
The Vrails, after consulting with several emissaries of the cause
at Syracuse, resolved to proceed by stage-coach to Oswego, and
they received minute instructions as to the hotel at which they
should stop, where they would be certain to find themselves at
once in communication with the leaders of the expedition. Harry
concluded to retain Brom in his company, a step which Thomas
the more readily acceded to, as it gave the brothers the appearance
of travelling with a servant, a degree of state to which the young
captain was far from feeling indifferent.
At the moment of starting they were joined by a man of very
Yankee-like aspect, whose appearance was indicative of much
shrewdness, and who was introduced to them as a reliable and influential
member of the war party. Mr. Barak Jones, indeed,
according to his own account, as narrated to his fellow passengers
before he had been ten minutes in their company, was a very
mighty hunter, indeed, and one who had already rendered most
important aid to the patriot cause.
“May I ask what rank you hold in the service?” inquired Harry,
“Well, I am not exactly in the army,” replied Jones, “though
I shall probably accept a commission soon. You see I am an
agitator. I have been travelling through the country forming
clubs, and making speeches, and inducing people to enlist. There
are more'n forty of my men now at Syracuse, waitin' for the boats.”
“Ah!” replied Harry, “you must have had some influence.”
“Yes, sir, although I say it myself, I don't think there's a man
that has done more, onless praps it's Col. Allen, who bein' a colonel
on the start, natrally had more influence.”
“Do you know this Col. Allen?”
“Like a book, sir; a brave man he is, too, and no more afraid
of the Britishers than of so many mosquitoes; a right down brave
man is Col. Allen, sir. He is going over.”
“Over!” exclaimed Harry, who thought the word sounded like
desertion. “What do you mean?”
“Why, over the lines, sir. He's going to fight. I presume he
is at Oswego now?”
“Well, are not you going over?”
“Why, I don't know that I shall just yet,” said the other, hesitatingly,
“as my services may be more valuable on this side. I
rather think they want me to keep agitatin'.”
“But it will certainly have a better effect upon these men whom
you have induced to enlist, if they see you with them in the field.”
“Y-e-e-s, praps it would, but they think I am going; and, as I
said before, I intend to go one of these days, you know. Bless
you, sir, there's no fear but what there will be enough. The whole
country is rising, sir, and all Canada is ready to rise and shake off
its shackles the very moment that our flag floats from the battlements
of Fort Wellington. Yes, sir, let us but strike one bold
blow, and”—
Harry saw that his companion had now evidently fallen into
him by asking what colors it was proposed to plant on
Fort Wellington.
“The tri-color, sir. That is the flag under which the patriots
fight, who, you see, are chiefly of French descent. By-and-by we
shall probably join the stars and stripes with it.”
“Where is Mackenzie now?”
“The great Mackenzie!” echoed Jones, enthusiastically. “Well,
sir, I must confess I don't exactly know. He may be at Oswego,
possibly at Ogdensburg, but wherever he is, you may be certain
he is not idle. He is moving the machinery, sir; he is moving
the machinery.”
“Undoubtedly, but I am sorry he is not to command this expedition
in person.”
“No, sir. Generals B— and E—, as you, of course, are
aware, are to be your leaders, assisted by Colonel Van Shoultz.”
“Who is this Col. Van Schoultz, of whom so much has been
said?”
This question was answered by another passenger, a middle-aged,
gentlemanly man, who had remained silent until now, and
of whom Harry knew nothing, excepting that, like all present, he
belonged to the secret fraternity.
“He will be to us, we hope, what Kosciousko was to our forefathers
in the days of the revolution. Like him, Van Shoultz is
a Polander, who has fought for his own country until she has
ceased to exist as a nation, and has since sought a refuge and home
in America. He is a man of talent and education, and promptly
volunteered his services in a cause so similar to that of his own suffering
land.”
“I have not been able to learn what command the famous Bill
Johnson is to have in this affair. It seems to me, that man is
more to be relied on than any of these untried officers.”
“The commodore will be on hand with some of his immediate
desire is to see the blow effectually struck, and he is willing that
the honors should be divided in advance among those to whom
they will be an inducement to action. He will be sure to win his
laurels in the field.”
“He is a remarkable man, and should have some command,
which would make his influence and example greater upon the
soldiers. There is not a more popular man engaged in the cause
than this Hero of the Thousand Isles, as he is called.”
“He is a most brave, determined, resolute fellow; there is no
doubt of that. A man for whose capture two great nations are
offering large rewards must be of some consequence.”
“Yes, I am sorry that our Government should seek his arrest;
though I suppose he would have little cause to dread such an
event after all, any further than as an interruption to his designs.”
“Bless you, no sir,” replied Barak, “that proclamation is only for
show, and to keep 'em quiet over in England. Government don't
want him caught by any means, although they would of course
have to pay a reward for him, and shut him up a while for infringing
the neutrality laws.”
“Nothing is more certain than that they would not deliver him
up to the British.”
“You may well say that!” exclaimed Jones, with flashing eyes.
“The Government that undertook such a thing wouldn't be a
government three days. The thing could not possibly be done. I
should jest like to see the United-States Marshal backed, if you
please, by a regiment of soldiers, undertaking to carry Bill Johnson
to Canada to give him up to the British. Why, sir, the whole
country would rise to rescue him.”
“I do not doubt it, nor is there any danger of such an attempt:
but if the Commodore should be captured on the other side, his
fate is, of course, sealed.”
“Yes, sir, he'd swing, beyond a peradventure.”
It was on the afternoon of the 4th of November that the travellers
arrived at Oswego, where, under the pilotage of Mr. Jones,
they readily found the hotel to which they had been directed, and
which was situated somewhat remote from the central part of the
village. The house, however, was thronged with guests, the most
of whom were quiet, sedate-looking people, and not a few were
evidently gentlemen. Many little coteries of three or four individuals
were assembled in various parts of the piazza and of the
adjacent grounds, engaged in animated, but by no means boisterous
conversation. Of these a considerable number gathered around
the stage coach as it drew up to the inn, and watched the alighting
of the passengers with much appearance of interest. Jones
was instantly recognized and hailed by several, to whom, much to
the surprise of the brothers, he instantly and openly introduced
them as Captain and Lieutenant Vrail.
“There's no need of any secrecy here,” he added, in explanation
to them—“these are all picked men, one may say.”
“And marked men too,” said the landlord, a fat, bustling and
very jovial man, who superintended the unloading of the baggage
of his new guests. “We are marked men, all on us, ha! ha!”
The young men found themselves treated with much consideration,
and were promised that, in the evening, they would have an
opportunity of an introduction to the commander of the expedition,
and several other of the leaders, including Colonel Van
Shoultz. They did not fail to observe that a large number of the
individuals present were addressed by titles indicative of the rank
of commissioned officers; but Captain Vrail was disposed to
regard this as an evidence of the magnitude of the movement, and
he did not doubt that there would still be a deficiency rather than
surplus of officers, when once they had made a successful stand
on Canadian soil.
In the evening the Vrails, together with several other gentlemen
who had arrived during the day, were introduced to the commander,
and to Colonel Van Shoultz. The former was a man of somewhat
pompous manners; but, apparently brave, and very confident of success
in the great undertaking which he had in hand. He received
the new comers with great cordiality, and addressed them briefly on
the subject of the enterprise, which he said was destined to prove
the most important political movement the world had seen in the
present century, and which could not fail to cover its actors with
glory.
Col. E—. also was a man whose appearance gave promise of
acting a brilliant part in the coming struggle: but neither of the
principal officers impressed Harry so favorably as the young
Polander, Colonel Van Shoultz, whose grave and manly air, and
firm, resolute expression, contrasted favorably, at such a moment,
with the more flippant deportment of his superiors.
He was about thirty years of age, and both spoke and understood
the English language with tolerable accuracy, and although
apparently reserved in his general intercourse with those about
him, he seemed disposed to attach himself to Harry almost from the
first moment of their introduction. This feeling was fully reciprocated
on the part of Lieutenant Vrail, and the young men passed
much of their time in each other's company during their stay at
Oswego.
CHAPTER VIII.
BARAK, THE AGITATOR. The prisoner of the border | ||