University of Virginia Library

16. CHAPTER XVI.
A NEW ARRIVAL—A STRANGE VISITOR.

Before the party separated from the breakfast table, a servant threw open
the door and announced Chunoluskee. The Governor instantly rose and
extended to him his hand, at the same time ordered a chair to be placed for
him at the table. Chunoluskee was a young Indian chief, of the Shawneese
tribe, whom the Governor had rescued some four years before, while a prisoner
with one of the tributary tribes. The tributaries, were those Indian
nations, which had either been subdued by force of arms, or were under
treaty stipulations by more peaceable means, to pay a nominal tribute yearly
to the Governor of Virginia. Nearly all the well known tribes along the
eastern borders of the colony, were thus happily situated. The tribute consisted

of a few skins and Indian arrows. These tributaries, however, were
occasionally at war with other tribes farther removed, thus they sometimes
brought home prisoners. The young chief, who has just been introduced to
the reader, was one of them. The Governor invariably claimed these, and
placed them at one of his primary schools, one of which he had located within
the borders of every tributary tribe in the Colony. When they had remained
a certain time at these primary schools, say about two years, they were
then removed to the Indian department in William and Mary College, in
accordance with the benevolent bequest of the Hon. Robert Boyle.

Some of these pupils were first taken as hostages, and were brought the
distance of four hundred miles, so that the College was at once a sort of honorable
prison, and a school for higher purposes.

Chunoluskee, the chief before us, had been four years at hard study; two
in the primary school, and two in the College, and, for his remarkable proficiency
in the latter, he received an office from the Governor, that of Interpreter
to the Queen. He was the medium of communication between his Excellency
and the various deputations of Indians from the tributaries, and those
beyond, which were constantly visiting the capital of Virginia. At no time,
since the settlement of the Colony, had there been such numerous assemblages
of these. The extraordinary exertions of the Governor and the Rev.
Commissary among these native sons of the soil, excited curiosity even in
these stoics of the forest. They had heard of the Indian schools, which were
then in the first tide of experiment throughout the Colony. How far they
looked with approbation upon the singular trial, will, perhaps, appear in the
course of our narrative. Certainly, in the instance before us, it had been
crowned with success, and we take pleasure in presenting before our readers,
an educated Indian; a gentleman, who held office under the crown, sat at the
Governor's table, and mingled with the social circle that surrounded that hospitable
board.

To a perfect stranger from abroad, he must have appeared by far the most
imposing character in that room, not excepting the Governor of Virginia; for
his dress exceeded that of his Excellency, both in the fineness of its texture, its
colors, and the fashion of the wearer, both as to cut and the manner of display.

He was about twenty-one years of age, tall and slender in form, but handsomely
proportioned, with a very uncommon face for one of his race. Nearly
the whole of the Indian stoicism was wanting; and, instead of neglecting
to notice those little things upon which good breeding so much depends, he
was scrupulously attentive to the least movement of any one around him.
His eye, instead of having the settled rattlesnake glare of his race, was soft
and humanized in its expression, and looked as if it could weep upon occasion,
which all those who have studied the forest specimen know, always seems
impossible with them. His hair grew long and straight to his shoulders, and
fell down his temples in perfectly straight lines. On his head, he wore a
scarlet velvet cap, bound round with gold lace, and surmounted with drooping
plumes of red and white, while he held gracefully upon his left arm, the skirts
of a robe of the same gaudy color, which fell in loose drapery from his shoulders.
He wore dressed buckskin small clothes, and long gaiters to meet them,
terminating at the foot in exquisitely worked moceasins, curiously inlaid with
beads and porcupine feathers, and covering a foot and ankle which any lady in
the room might have envied. Under his scarlet robe, he wore a buff jacket,
fitting so exactly to his rounded form, that, at the first glance, a stranger might
have supposed it the natural covering of the muscles, so exactly did it display
the outlines of his figure.

He had been taken prisoner when desperately fighting to save a blind mother
and a sister, the latter then only twelve years of age. They, also, were
brought by the Governor to the capital, and the old blind Indian had been a

constant pensioner upon the bounty of the Governor and his family, while the
young girl had been placed with Mrs. Stith, (the Stewardess of the College.)
until very recently, when prudence suggested, that she was now becoming of
an age, to require that other quarters should be provided for her. Accordingly,
the Governor had erected for them a suitable house in the suburbs of the
capital, and the Interpreter, his sister and his mother, all lived together.

Such was the character and history of the being, who now walked up to
meet the Governor, with an air that might have put the blush upon any king in
Europe. He trod those boards with a majestic air, and a grace too, which
would have made the fortune of a hero of the buskin; and bowed over the
Governor's hand, in which his own was locked long and feelingly, as if he
designed to express both homage and gratitude.

“Thank goodness,” whispered Dorothea to her sister, “Mr. Lee's nose is
put out of joint now.”

Strange to say, that Mr. Lee was the least inclined to treat this descendant
of our forest kings with respect, of any person in the room. Such is the
apparent inconsistency of human nature, when viewed only upon the surface.
To an impartial spectator, the two seemed wonderfully alike in mental constitution;
that son of a long line of aristocratic progenitors, and the son of an
Indian Sachem, alas, now in exile, and doubtless supplanted in his princedom
by some more successful young warrior.

The Governor presented him to Mr. Hall, after he had bowed respectfully to
the ladies, he being the only person in the room with whom he was unacquainted.
He was then placed at the table, and made his breakfast, observing
all the little formalities, which are so much of a second nature to us, that we
do not notice them except when wanting. Hall watched him closely, expecting
no doubt, to see him help himself with his hand, and eat with his fingers, but
he not only used knife and fork, but helped others to the dishes near him, without
the slightest faux pas of any kind. He was rather more modest in conversation,
than one would have supposed from his princely carriage. He had
learned the first great lesson in the advancement of the mind, that is, to know
his own ignorance; yet, he took part in nearly all the conversation, being
appealed to directly by some of the worthies round him. The fact is, the Rov.
Commissary, as well as his Excellency, were proud of their pupil, and they
loved to exhibit him, as well to the stranger, as to such scoffers as Moore and
Carter, in regard to Indian capabilities.

There was another subject of pride and gratification with his Excellency,
he had received many of his views of the tramontaine country from this young
Indian, and he loved to hear him dwell upon its glories, and would sit entranced
while his tawny young subordinate dilated upon these matters.

“Now for it,” whispered Kate to Ellen, as the ladies left the room to the possession
of the gentlemen, “papa will soon carry Mr. Hall over the moutains,
where he has before marched so many before him, whether with their own
free will or not, their own good breeding sayeth not. Just look back Ellen,
and see with what apparent relish Mr. Moore and Mr. Carter are preparing
themselves to listen to papa and that noble looking chief.”

The Governor, truly enough, only waited for the Interpreter to finish with
his knife and fork before he commenced drawing him out. His maps were
spread out before him on the table, and he had called Mr. Hall to his side.
Not an individual in that room, but had occupied the same position repeatedly,
except himself, and he prepared the way by tracing out with his pencil, the
water courses which had their rise in the mountains.

“Now Chunoluskee, here is a gentleman just from the mountains of my
own native land, (Scotland,) and glorious mountains they are too, and delightful
vales between them, but I want you to shew him that there is a finer country
beyond your blue hills, than any even in old Scotia. What say you my man?”

“The vales beyond those mountains are my native war paths, your Excellency,
and I look back to them with the same sort of pleasure which you
remember the scenes of your own childhood.”

“Ave, and you shall look forward to them, man. I will lead you back to
your native land, and place you in possession of your rights.”

“So your Excellency has promised, and it is therefore, that I have come to
look upon your proposed enterprise, with nearly as much delight, as your
Excellency.”

“But is the country worth the trouble. That is the point that touches
these lazy Virginians?”

“It is the most glorious land that ever the sun shone upon, there is a valley
beyond those moantains, almost a perfect terrestrial paradise, abounding in
deer, elk, buffalo, and game of every sort—the land teeming with wild fruits of
every kind, and bright with the purest fountains of water that ever gushed
from the solid rocks.”

“Oaye, I know that is your opinion, but it is contradicted by all the French
accounts, and all others which we have received, besides you were a mere boy
when you left that happy valley, and cannot know exactly its geography.”

“Indian boys, your Excellency, do not, it is true, study geography upon
paper, but they study it upon a much larger scale; they learn the original;
and what is more, they never forget it. I can take your Excellency to the
very spot where I was taken prisoner.”

“Well, well, leave the point about the double range of mountains to be decided
by the event, and go on with your account.”

“Beyond that valley is the range of the real Apalachee, and when you
have crossed these, then you open into a new world indeed; one in which this
little Colony might be set down and not observed to enlarge or diminish it.
Before you entirely cross all its wonderful width and breadth however, there
are natural curiosities so remarkable, that these gentlemen will again laugh at
my presumption and your credulity, if I tell of them.”

“Tut, man, tut! a fig for Moore and Carter's skepticism; tell your story
as if they were not present.”

“I have often told your Excellency of the ever-boiling springs in which you
may cook an egg, and others, the medicinal virtues of which are so great, that
even the deer and buffalo, visit them constantly. Indian tribes from the mouth of
the Mississippi, on the one hand, and the lakes on the other, visit them in the
hunting season, bringing there, the lame and the blind, and the halt, just as I
have since read was the custom in the Jewish country.”

Moore and Carter here laughed outright, and the latter asked the Interpreter,
“if he could enumerate the diseases of which the buffalo and the deer
were cured, and how they undertook to administer the medicine; whether they
had Dr. Buffalo and Dr. Buck, and if they felt pulses and looked at the tongue.
What say you to this, Doctor, turning to the old physician?”

The Interpreter did not give him time to answer, for he was now becoming
excited with his subject, and gouded with the repeated taunts and jeers of the
youngsters.

“You may laugh, young gentlemen,” said he, “as you have often done before,
and you may call it romancing, but I tell you and his Excellency, that the
half has not been told. There are wonders of the natural world there, which
throws in the shade even these medic nal springs; apocryphal as you consider
them,” throwing down his knite and fork with which he had been trifling
with the remains of his breakfast, he strode once or twice rapidly through the
room, and again halted before the group seated at the lower end of the table,
and continued: “There are palaces there under ground, far more magnificent
than the one inhabited by his Excellency at Williamsburg; long colonades,
that have supported the dome which they now bear since the world began, and

galleries with fancy work, which would shame the skill of any of your handy
craft-men, and there is also a noble arch of solid rock—extending from
mountain to mountain, and beneath which the Governor's round tower at
the Capital could stand, without being a greater object to distract the
attention, when looking from above, than the binnacle is to the sailor at
the mast-head, when he casts his eye upon deck. The sachems who
went before me, have a tradition that the great spirit himself, once upon
a time was walking upon the earth, and came to the stupendous rent
between those two mountains, inaccessible from their perpendicular sides,
and that he threw the wonderful arch across, and then walked over upon
it. It looks indeed as if it might have been a causeway for the gods, or some
colossal race of men, who perhaps inhabited the earth, when animals dwelt
upon it tall enough to browse upon the tops of our fores trees.”

“Then you have,” said Carter, “in that fine valley of yours, medicines to
cure all the ills that flesh is heir to, forever pouring in perennial streams from
their bright fountains, so that you are free from the pains denounced against
the balance of our race; fruits forever tempting the hand to pluck them; water
heated to your hand ever ready to perform your culinary operations, and
yet not content with this paradise, you have now erected a bridge between
heaven and earth, over the valley of death, upon which the gods and your
people freely interchange visits. Have you not also some springs or trees or
herbs, by which the whole curse of earning bread by the sweat of our brow
might be dispensed with? Methinks that the great spirit who first made
your fine country, would not have stopped half way, but would have remodelled
Eden over again, and upon a pattern too, which would have made Old
Adam laugh at himself, for being so taken in with that orchard, which proved
his ruin.”

“I understand your irony, Mr. Carter,” said the chief, “but it cannot alter
the facts of the case, for the truth of which I will pledge my life. Indeed
the half has not been told; there are springs beyond the great Apalachee,
which produce salt, made almost ready to your hands. You have only to boil
the water, which spouts out from the ground, and the work is done. In the
same neighborhood, is a burning spring; flames forever wreathing up from
the surface of the water. This the natives of the soil are afraid of, and believe
that the great spirit of evil dwells there.”

“I thought so,” rejoined Carter, “you have only now to tell us of that
spring from whose fountain flows the life-giving power of perpetual youth, so
long sought for by the Spaniards at the other end of the continent, by all the
gods and goddesses in the mythology, we will bring back your Excellency so
rejuvenated, that Lady Spotswood herself will scarcely know you. By the by,
what a place of resort it will be for elderly ladies. I know several that would
accompany the expedition upon half the inducements held out by the Chief.”

“Poh, poh, Carter, with your nonsense; Chunoluskee has no motive for
deceiving us,” said his Excellency, “and if he had, and could succeed, in the
matter of the medicine springs, and the subterranean palaces, and the mighty
arch, suspended between heaven and earth; we know that the land is there,
and that is enough for us. The others will be so much clear gain, if we find
them—and if we do not, you and Moore will not be much deceived, at all
events.”

“I see nothing so very improbable in the herds of deer and buffalo seeking
the medicinal springs,” said Dr. Evylin. “We know that these creatures,
and many far inferior to them, have an instinct by which they seek relief
from medicine, even in the vegetable kingdom, and we know moreover, that
the sulphur and salt springs commonly called salt licks, are plenty all over the
continent, and that the wild animals do seek them at certain seasons of the
year. I see no reason to believe that the chief has even colored the impressions

of his youth with imaginary drapery—in fact, there is a good deal of internal
evidence of truth in his recollection of the country.”

“And his recollection of the sources and courses of the rivers this side of the
mountains,” added the Governor, “have been remarkably accurate, so far as
we have been enabled to trace them yet. Take, for instance, the James river,
he has always adhered to it, that this stream runs through this wonderful valley,
and through the mountains. This, the council at first laughed at, but
every succeeding survey only renders it more and more probable. Its source
or headwaters have never yet been reached, or any thing like it.”

The youths professed to give in to the Governor's views, but walked off
nevertheless, indulging their merriment at the extravagant romancing of the
interpreter.

The Governor and the two Doctors hung over those maps for hours, tracing
out the future course of the expedition; sticking pins along the designated
route, and from time to time acquiring new information, as to the face of the
country, distances, means of supply, &c., all of which the former required
Hall to note down accurately.

The reader must, in order to realize the terra incognita, into which they
were about to plunge, remember that Virginia, at that day, consisted of some
twenty odd counties, clustering around the Seat of Government, and they only
thickly populated along the rich alluvia of the rivers, and the two shores of
the bay, and that the population of the colony was just one hundred thousand.

Few more bold, daring, and chivalrous adventures have ever been undertaken,
even in this land of wild adventure, than that planned and executed by
Governor Spotswood. It must be recollected, too, that his was among the
first of the kind; that he was the pioneer, even to Lewis and Clark, and that
his ingenuity invented many of those appliances now so common in such adventures.
He was going beyond the reach of civilized resources—among
savage tribes—over monntains, hitherto considered impassible—and through
a trackless wilderness, in the last degree difficult for the transportation of the
necessary supplies.

Was it any wonder that it was opposed by most of the old men of the Colony;
by nearly all those considered wise and prudent? They confidently predicted
that the Governor, and the mad youths whom he might induce to accompany
him, would never return, and some exercised their parental authority,
so far as to forbid their sons from accompanying the Governor. To such a
height had this opposition ran during the preceding winter, that a public meeting
was held, and a committee appointed to memorialize the ministry on the
subject. If successful, this of course was equivalent to the Governor's removal,
and he had been waiting in some anxiety to hear the result. The two
factions of Oxford and Bolinbroke, of which the ministry was composed, were
too busy fighting their own battles, to heed these petitions from beyond seas.
Sir Alexander Spotswood was fully determined to see the other side of the
mountains, either as Governor of Virginia, or as the leader of a private expedition,
which he was amply able to set on foot. The question of supplies had
been brought up also before the House of Burgesses the preceding winter, and
rejected by a very close vote. Since that time, he had been exerting no little
address to induce young men to come out for the vacant or uncontested seats,
especially such as were known to be favorable to his darling project. Two of
these we have already seen almost domesticated in his own house, the open
hospitalities of which was no mean auxiliary in the great cause, especially
when presided over by the elegant kinswoman of the Duke of Ormond, and
her not less fascinating daughters. In short, his personal influence, his official
sway, his social position, his wealth, and every thing that was his, was
thrown into the scale by the Governor. He almost directed Mr. Boyle's benevolent

scheme for christianizing the Indians into the same channel, and
he had enlisted the Rev. President of the College, warmly in his interests. A
new trial was now rapidly approaching—the members for another house of Burgesses
had been elected, and were soon to assemble at the capital. Proclamations
were sent to every county calling upon the young gentry to enlist fifty
men, and enrol themselves under his banner. The ranks of the Rangers had
been filled up, and new officers appointed, wherever opposition was manifested
to the expedition, and these were now undergoing daily drill, and performing
camp duty along the whole frontier of the colony, as preparatory to the grand
tour. The removal of these very corps was one strong ground of opposition
by the timid. They had for some time formed the main security of the Colony,
against the inroads of the savages. These Rangers were stationed along the
whole line of frontier, within communicating distance of each other, and were
perhaps the best security ever devised for a colony in the then condition of
Virginia. The Governor's son John, was now in command of these, and as
rapidly preparing them for field service as possible. The Governor proposed
to march the whole of these, as well as a certain portion of militia from each
battalion. Here was another cause of opposition; these men did not like the
idea of being marched five hundred miles through a trackless wilderness, and
over inaccessible mountains, while their families were perhaps starving at
home, and their crops totally neglected, as well the preparation for the coming
one as the proper curing of that already housed. The Governor's main dependence,
however, was upon the young gentry, and such men as they could
voluntarily enlist or persuade from among their own adherents. He thought
that if he could embody a sufficient number of them with the Rangers, that
the forcible objections against the expedition might be removed, as he would no
longer attempt to coerce the militia, from whom powerful opposition had
arisen. Indeed something like a pledge had been given at the late elections
that such should be the case, and the whole colony was now looking on with
anxiety, to see what would be the result. Such of the gentry as had united
in the remonstance to the ministry, despaired of ever receiving assistance from
that quarter, so that the great battle had to be fought at home.

In accordance with these views, the Governor on the morning in question,
despatched his new protegee to Yorktown to enlist, not only fifty followers for
his own share, but as many more of the emigrants as might choose to try their
fortunes in the far west. Largesses of land were most liberally promised, besides
the pay, rations, and accontrements of the soldier. Among those who
had arrived with Hall, were a large number of Scotch, Irish, and Presbyterians,
a hardy, brave, intelligent set of people, as ever lived. These Hall
found to listen most readily to his tempting promises of land and a new
home, and freedom from religious restraint. The scheme chimed in extactly
with their views, and he was therefore not long in making up his complement
of fifty men, and enlisting as many more as the Governor might choose to provide
for out of his own private purse. These were quartered in the suburbs of
York, and were soon busily engaged in preparing to march at a moment's
warning.

Governor Spotswood was not long in discovering that his new protegee was
exactly the sort of aid-de-camp which he had been looking for. He possessed
a thorough education, not a little of which had been learned in the school of
adversity, and a sufficiency for his purpose, in the camp. He accordingly set
to work in earnest, to have all things in readiness to seize upon that most favorable
season of the year, now called Indian summer, for the march.
Before that could take place, many things had yet to be done, besides the
subsidies to be voted by an assembly, whose opinion were still somewhat
doubtful. Clothes, ammunition, horses and supplies of every kind, were to be
provided, and the latter in such a shape as to admit of their transportation

without inconvenience. Camp equipage, such as tents, iron, utensils, &c., &c.,
were not so easily gathered in that day in the Colony. He had already built
a round tower in the public square of the capital, for the reception of arms
and ammunition, and was accumulating them silently, but surely.[5] Both his
public and private stables were already crowded with horses, and he was still
purchasing more.

The time was now approaching when that happy family party were to leave
the delightful summer retreal on the shores of the Chesapeake bay, for the bustle,
the gaiety, and even the political intrigues of the capital. The female inmates
would willingly have dwelt at Temple Farm forever. They loved the
quiet scenery of the place, and the privilege it gave them of, in some measure,
selecting their company, but the present busy season of preparation, on the
part of the lord of the manor, required that removal, and they acquiesced.
His presence was wanted at the capital, and it now began to form the staple
subject of conversation among the young people.

Bondboxes were not yet in requisition, but Kate was already paying farewell
visits in the neighborhood, and visiting her pensioners for the last time
before a long separation. The negroes were already crowding round the
doors, whenever a leisure moment allowed them, to look for those never failing
little tokens of good will and remembrance dispensed on such occasions.
Others, with purer motives, loved to return their humble thanks to their young
mistress, for her kindness in sickness. It was indeed a melancholy day
among the domestics of Temple Farm, when all that gave it life and cheerfulness
were gone. Old June declared to Kate that the very poultry and stock
all looked melancholy, when the “white folks” were gone. On the evening
of that day, he brought out his old banjoe into the yard, seeing Kate and Ellen
promenading the verandah, and was tuning it up preparatory to improvising
their departure in most moving and melancholy strains. What Southron
is there who has not been moved by the mere tones of these monotonous doggrels?
Even in their liveliest strains, and when the words of the song are
ludicrous in the highest degree, these same mournful sounds accompany them.
The same may be said of their harvest and boat songs. On the present occasion
June muttered something like the following, to one of his corn songs:

“Oh June,” said Kate, “sing of our return, not of our going away. Don't
you see that you affect the spirits of Ellen?”

“Oh, misses, it's for poor June's spirits to be 'fected; specially when he
aint had no spirits all de day long.”

“And do you think June that a glass of spirits would change the melancholy
of your song.”

“De spirits make June feel berry happy misses long as he last, but be no
bring back Miss Kate, and all de fine young gentlemen, and de ladies, and de
carringes, and de hosses.”

“Why, what in the world can these things be to you, June; you eat the
same, and wear the same, whether we are here or at the capital?”

“'Oh, Miss Kate, dey all de world to June; de berry light ob he eye; when

white folks gone, it is all one long rainy day at de Farm—no banjoe den—frog
hab all de fun to heself, and de whoopperwill, he sing so solemn, he make poor
nigger cry for true.”

“Why you are quite sentimental, June!”

“Don't know zactly what de sentinel is, but he see one at de arsenal at
Williamsburg, walking so lone list like June, when young missus gone. De
birds find out directly when de house shut up—he no fraid ob nigger; de owl
come on that big tree, and he sit and moan all night long ober de empty
house, make June tink some of de familey gwine to die; and de bay! oh, he
moan for true so far off, way down to the sea, and den he come back to de
house and fine ebery body gone, he go way along the water, sighing and moaning
all de way; but when Miss Kate come back, all de birds sing glad for true!”

“You shall have the spirits June; tell Essex so; but no more banjoe to
night, June; it affects our spirits.”

“Good night, and tanky missus, June gwine to broke he eye, cryin till
you come back.”