University of Virginia Library

2. CHAPTER II.

Hamlet.

While Lionel was in the confusion of feeling
produced by the foregoing scene, the intruder,
after a prelude of singularly heavy and loud steps,
on the floor, as if some one approached on
crutches, entered by a door opposite to the one
through which Cecil had so suddenly vanished.
At the next moment the convalescent was saluted
by the full, cheerful voice of his visiter—

“God bless you, Leo, and bless the whole of
us, for we need it,” cried Polwarth, eagerly advancing
to grasp the extended hands of his friend.
“Meriton has told me that you have got the
true marks of health—a good appetite, at last.
I should have broken my neck in hurrying up
to wish you joy on the moment, but I just stepped
into the kitchen, without Mrs. Lechmere's leave,
to show her cook how to broil the steak they are
warming through for you—a capital thing after
a long nap, and full of nutriment—God bless
you, my dear Leo; the look of your bright eye is
as stimulating to my spirits as a West-India pepper
is to the stomach.”

Polwarth ceased shaking the hands of his reanimated
friend, as with a husky voice he concluded,
and turning aside under the pretence of

reaching a chair, he dashed his hand before
his eyes, gave a loud hem, and took his seat
in silence. During the performance of this evolution,
Lionel had leisure to observe the altered
person of the captain. His form, though
still rotund and even corpulent, was much reduced
in dimensions, while in the place of one
of those lower members with which nature furnishes
the human race, he had been compelled
to substitute a leg of wood, somewhat inartificially
made, and roughly shed with iron. This
last sad alteration, in particular, attracted the
look of Major Lincoln, who continued to gaze
at it with glistening eyes, for some time after
the other had established himself, to his entire
satisfaction, in one of the cushioned seats of the
apartment.

“I see my frame-work has caught your eye,
Leo,” said Polwarth, raising the wooden substitute,
with an air of affected indifference, and
tapping it lightly with his cane. “'Tis not as
gracefully cut, perhaps, as if it had been turned
from the hands of master Phidias, but in a place
like Boston, it is an invaluable member, inasmuch
as it knows neither hunger nor cold!”

“The Americans, then, press the town,” said
Lionel, glad to turn the subject, “and maintain
the siege with vigour?”

“They have kept us in horrible bodily terror,
ever since the shallow waters toward the mainland
have been frozen, and opened a path directly
into the heart of the place. Their Virginian generalissimo,
Washington, appeared a short time after
the affair over on the other peninsula, (a cursed
business, that Leo!) and with him came all
the trimmings of a large army. Since that time
they have worn a more military front, though little

else has been done, excepting an occasional skirmish,
but cooping us up like so many uneasy
pigeons in our cage.”

“And Gage chafes not at the confinement?”

“Gage!—we sent him off like the soups,
months ago. No, no—the moment the ministry
discovered that we had come to our forks, in good
earnest, they chose black Billy to preside: and
now we stand at bay with the rebels, who have
already learnt that our leader is not a child at the
grand entertainment of war.”

“Yes, seconded by such men as Clinton and
Burgoyne, and supported by the flower of our
troops, the position can be easily maintained.”

“No position can be easily maintained, Major
Lincoln,” said Polwarth, promptly, “in the face
of starvation, both internal and external.”

“And is the case so desperate?”

“Of that you shall judge yourself, my friend.
When Parliament shut the port of Boston, the
colonies were filled with grumblers; and now we
have opened it, and would be glad to see their
supplies, the devil a craft enters the harbour
willingly—ah! Meriton, you have the steak, I
see; put it here, where your master can have
it at his elbow, and bring another plate—I
breakfasted but indifferently well this morning.
So we are thrown completely on our own resources.
But the rebels do not let us enjoy even them
in peace. This thing is done to a turn—
how charmingly the blood follows the knife!—
They have gone so far as to equip privateers,
who cut off our necessaries, and he is a lucky
man who can get a meal like the one before us.”

“I had not thought the power of the Americans
could have forced matters to such a pass.”

“What I have mentioned, though of vital importance,
is not half. If a man is happy enough

to obtain the materials for a good dish—you
should have rubbed an onion over these plates,
Mr. Meriton—he don't know where he is to find
fuel to cook it withal.”

“Looking at the comforts with which I am
surrounded, my good friend, I cannot but fancy
your imagination heightens the distress.”

“Fancy no such silly thing, for when you get
abroad, you will find it but too exact. In the
article of food, if we are not reduced, like the
men of Jerusalem, to eating one another, we are,
half the time, rather worse off, being entirely
destitute of wholesome nutriment. Let but an unlucky
log float by the town, among the ice, and
go forth and witness the struggling and skirmishing
between the Yankees and our frozen
fingers for its possession, and you will become a
believer! 'Twill be lucky if the water-soaked
relic of some wharf should escape without a
cannonade! I don't tell you these things as a
grumbler, Leo; for thank God, I have only half as
many toes as other men to keep warmth in; and
as for eating, a little will suffice for me, now my
corporeal establishment is so sadly reduced.”

Lionel paused, in melancholy, as his friend attempted
to jest at his misfortune, and then, by a
very natural transition for a young man in his
situation, he proudly exclaimed—

“But we gained the day, Polwarth! and drove
the rebels from their entrenchments, like chaff
before a whirlwind!”

“Humph!” ejaculated the captain, laying his
wooden leg carefully over its more valuable
fellow, and regarding it ruefully, while he
spoke—“had we made a suitable use of the
bounties of nature, and turned their position, instead
of running into the jaws of the beast, many
might have left the field better supplied with
appurtenances than are some among us at present.

But dark William loves a brush, they say, and
he enjoyed it, on that occasion, to his heart's content!”

“He must be grateful to Clinton for his timely
presence?”

“Does the devil delight in martyrdom! The
presence of a thousand rebels would have been
more welcome, even at that moment; nor has he
smiled once, on his good natured assistant, since
he thrust himself, in that unwelcome manner, between
him and his enemy. We had enough to
think of with our dead and wounded, and in maintaining
our conquest, or something more than
black looks and unkind eyes would have followed
the deed.”

“I fear to inquire into the fortunes of the field,
so many names of worth must be numbered in the
loss.”

“Twelve or fifteen hundred men are not to be
knocked on the head out of such an army and
all the clever fellows escape. Gage, I know, calls
the loss something like eleven hundred; but after
vaporing so much about the yankees, their
prowess is not to be acknowledged in its bloom
at once. A man seldom goes on one leg, but he
halts a little at first, as I can say from experience
—put down thirteen, Leo, as a medium, and
you'll not miscalculate largely—yes, indeed, there
were some brave young men amongst them! those
rascally light-footed gentry that I gave up so opportunely,
were finely peppered—and there were
the Fusilleers had hardly men enough left to
saddle their goat!”[1]

“And the marines! they must have suffered
heavily; I saw Pitcairn fall before me;” said
Lionel, speaking with hesitation—“I greatly
fear our old comrade, the grenadier, did not
escape with better fortune.”

“Mac!” exclaimed Polwarth, casting a furtive
glance at his companion.—“Ay, Mac was
not as lucky in that business as he was in
Germany—he-em—Mac—had an obstinate way
with him, Leo, a damn'd obstinate fellow in all
military matters, but as generous a heart and as
free in sharing a mess-hill as any man in his
majesty's service! I crossed the river in the same
boat with him, and he entertained us with his
queer thoughts on the art of war. According to
Mac's notions of things, the grenadiers were to
do all the fighting—a damn'd odd way with him
had Mac!”

“There are few of us without peculiarities,
and I could wish that none of them were more
offensive than the trifling prejudices of poor Dennis
M`Fuse.”

“Yes, yes,” added Polwarth, hemming violently,
as if determined to clear his throat at every
hazard; “he was a little opinionated in trifles,
such as a knowledge of war, and matters of discipline,
but in all important things as tractable as
a child. He loved his joke, but it was impossible
to have a less difficult or a more unpretending
palate in one's mess! The greatest evil I can wish
him was breath in his body, to live and enjoy, in
these hard times, when things become excellent
by comparison, the sagacious provision which his
own ingenuity contrived to secure out of the
cupidity of our ancient landlord, Mister Seth
Sage.”

“Then that notable scheme did not entirely
fall to the ground,” said Lionel, with a feverish

desire to change the subject once more. “I had
thought the Americans were too vigilant to admit
the intercourse.”

“Seth has been too sagacious to permit them
to obstruct it. The prices acted like a soporific
on his conscience, and, by using your name I
believe, he has formed some friend of sufficient
importance amongst the rebels to protect him
in his trade. His supplies make their appearance
twice a-week as regularly as the meats follow
the soups in a well-ordered banquet.”

“You then can communicate with the country,
and the country with the town! Although Washington
may wink at the proceeding, I should fear
the scowl of Howe.”

“Why, in order to prevent suspicions of unfair
practices, and at the same time to serve the cause
of humanity, so the explanation reads, you know,
our sapient host, has seen fit to employ a fool as
his agent in the intercourse. A fellow, as you
may remember, of some notoriety; a certain simpleton,
who calls himself Job Pray.”

Lionel continued silent for many moments, during
which time his recollections began to revive,
and his thoughts glanced over the scenes
that occurred in the first months of his residence
in Boston. It is quite possible that a painful,
though still general and indefinite feeling mingled
with his musings, for he evidently strove
to expel some such unwelcome intruder, as he
resumed the discourse with a strong appearance
of forced gayety.

“Ay, ay, I well remember poor Job—a fellow
once seen and known, not easily to be forgotten.
He used, of old, to attach himself greatly
to my person, but I suppose, like the rest of the
world, I am neglected when in retirement.”

“You do the lad injustice; he not only makes

frequent inquiries, after his slovenly manner I acknowledge,
concerning your condition, but sometimes
he seems better informed in the matter
than myself, and can requite my frequent answers
to his questions, by imparting, instead of
receiving, intelligence of your improvement; more
especially since the ball has been extracted.”

“That should be very singular, too,” said Lionel,
with a still more thoughtful brow.

“Not so very remarkable, Leo, as one would
at first imagine,” interrupted his companion—
“the lad is not wanting in sagacity, as he manifested
by his choice of dishes at our old mess-table—Ah!
Leo, Leo, we may see many a discriminating
palate, but where shall we go to
find another such a friend! one who could eat
and' joke—drink and quarrel with a man in a
breath, like poor Dennis, who is gone from
among us for ever! There was a piquancy about
poor Mac that acted on the dullness of life like
condiments on the natural appetite!”

Meriton, who was diligently brushing his master's
coat, an office that he performed daily,
though the garment had not been worn in so
long a period, stole a glance at the averted eye
of the Major, and understanding its expression to
indicate a determined silence, he ventured to maintain
the discourse in his own unworthy person.

“Yes, sir, a nice gentleman was captain
M`Fuse, and one as fought as stoutly for the king
as any gentleman in the army, all agrees.—It was
a thousand pities such a fine figure of a man
hadn't a better idea of dress; it isn't all, sir,
as is gifted in that way! But every body says he's
a detrimental loss, though there's some officers in
town who consider so little how to wear their,
ornaments, that if they were to be shot I am sure
no one would miss them.”

“Ah! Meriton,” cried the full-hearted Polwartb,
“I see you are a youth of more observation
than I had suspected! Mac had all the
seeds of a man in him, though some of them might
not have come to maturity. There was a flavour
in his humour that served as a relish to every conversation
in which he mingled. Did you serve
the poor fellow up in handsome style, Meriton, for
his last worldly exhibition?”

“Yes, indeed, sir, we gave him as ornamental
a funeral as can be seen out of Lon'non. Besides
the Royal Irish, all the grenadiers was
out; that is all as wasn't hurt, which was near
half of them. As I knowed the regard Master
Lionel had for the captain, I dressed him
with my own hands—I trimmed his whiskers, sir,
and altered his hair more in front, and seeing that
his honour was getting a little gray, I threw on a
sprinkling of powder, and as handsome a corpse
was captain M`Fuse as any gentleman in the army,
let the other be who he may!”

The eyes of Polwarth twinkled, and he blew
his nose with a noise not unlike the sound of a
clarion ere he rejoined—

“Yes, yes, time and hardships had given a
touch of frost to the head of the poor fellow;
but it is a consolation to know that he died like a
soldier, and not by the hands of that vulgar
butcher, Nature; and that being dead, he was removed
according to his deserts!”

“Indeed, sir,” said Meriton, with a solemnity
worthy of the occasion, “we gave him a great
procession—a great deal can be made out of
his majesty's uniform, on such festivities, and it
had a wonderful look about it!—Did you speak,
sir?”

“Yes,” added Lionel, impatiently, “remove
the cloth; and go, inquire if there be letters for
me.”

The valet submissively obeyed, and after a
short pause the dialogue was resumed by the gentlemen
on subjects of a less painful nature.

As Polwarth was exceedingly communicative,
Lionel soon obtained a very general, and to do the
captain suitable justice, an extremely impartial
account of the situation of the hostile forces, as
well as of all the leading events that had transpired
since the day of Breeds. Once or twice the invalid
ventured an allusion to the spirit of the rebels,
and to the unexpected energy they had discovered;
but Polwarth heard them all in silence, answering
only by a melancholy smile, and, in the
last instance, by a significant gesture towards his
unnatural supporter. Of course, after this touching
acknowledgment of his former error, his friend
waved the subject for others less personal.

He learned that the royal general maintained
his hardly-earned conquest on the opposite peninsula,
where he was as effectually beleaguered,
however, as in the town of Boston itself. In
the meantime, while the war was conducted in
earnest at the point where it commenced, hostilities
had broken out in every one of those colonies
south of the St. Lawrence and the Great
Lakes, where the presence of the royal troops invited
an appeal to force. At first, while the colonists
acted under the impulses of the high enthusiasm of
a sudden rising, they had been everywhere successful.
A general army had been organized, as already
related, and divisions were employed at different
points to effect those conquests, which, in that
early state of the struggle, were thought to be important
to the main result. But the effects of their
imperfect means and divided power were already
becoming visible. After a series of minor victories,
Montgomery had fallen in a most desperate
but unsuccessful attempt to carry the impregnable

fortress of Quebec; and ceasing to be
the assailants, the Americans were gradually
compelled to collect their resources to meet that
mighty effort of the crown which was known
to be not far distant. As thousands of their
fellow-subjects in the mother country manifested
a strong repugnance to the war, the Ministry
so far submitted to the influence of that free
spirit which first took deep root in Britain, as
to turn their eyes to those states of Europe, who
made a trade in human life, in quest of mercenaries
to quell the temper of the colonists. In
consequence, the fears of the timid amongst the
Americans were excited by rumours of the vast
hordes of Russians and Germans who were to
be poured into their country with the fell intent
to make them slaves. Perhaps no step of their
enemies had a greater tendency to render them
odious in the eyes of the Americans, than this
measure of introducing foreigners to decide a
quarrel purely domestic. So long as none but
men who had been educated in those acknowledged
principles of justice and law, known to both
people, were admitted to the contest, there were
visible points common to each, which might render
the struggle less fierce, and in time lead to a
permanent reconciliation. But they reasoned
not inaptly when they asserted that in a contest
rendered triumphant by slaves, nothing
but abject submission could ensue to the conquered.
It was like throwing away the scabbard,
and, by abandoning reason, submitting the
result to the sword alone. In addition to the
estrangement these measures were gradually increasing
between the people of the mother-country
and the colonies, must be added the change
it produced amongst the latter in their habits of
regarding the person of their prince.

During the whole of the angry discussion, and
the recriminations which preceded the drawing
of blood, the colonists had admitted, to the fullest
extent, not only in their language, but in
their feelings, that fiction of the British law
which says “the king can do no wrong.”
Throughout the wide extent of an empire, on
which the sun was never known to set, the English
monarch could boast of no subjects more devoted
to his family and person, than the men who
now stood in arms against what they honestly
believed to be the unconstitutional encroachments
of his power. Hitherto the whole weight of their
resentment had justly fallen on the advisers of
the Prince, who himself was thought to be ignorant,
as he was probably innocent, of the abuses
so generally practised in his name. But as the
contest thickened, the natural feelings of the man
were thought to savour of the political acts he was
required to sanction with his name. It was soon
whispered amongst those who had the best means
of intelligence, that the feelings of the sovereign
were deeply interested in the maintenance of
what he deemed his prerogative, and the ascendency
of that body of the representatives of
his empire, which he met in person and influenced
by his presence. Ere long this opinion was rumoured
abroad, and as the minds of men began
to loosen from their ancient attachments
and prejudices, they confounded, by a very natural
feeling, the head with the members; forgetting
that “Liberty and Equality” formed no
part of the trade of Princes. The name of the
monarch was daily falling into disrepute; and as
the colonial writers ventured to allude more freely
to his person and power, the glimmerings
of that light were seen, which was a precursor of
the rise of `the stars of the west' amongst the na

tional symbols of the earth. Until then, few had
thought, and none had ventured to speak openly
of independence, though events had been silently
preparing the colonists for such a final measure.

Allegiance to the Prince was the last and only
tie to be severed, for the colonies already governed
themselves in all matters, whether of internal or
foreign policy, as effectually as any people could,
whose right to do so was not generally acknowledged.
But as the honest nature of George
IIId. admitted of no disguise, mutual disgust
and alienation were the natural consequences of
the reaction of sentiment between the Prince and
his western people.[2]

All this, and much more of minute detail, was
hastily commented on by Polwarth, who possessed,
in the midst of his epicurean propensities,
sterling good-sense, and great integrity of intention.
Lionel was chiefly a listener, nor did he
cease the greedy and interesting employment until
warned by his weakness, and the stroke of a
neighbouring clock, that he was trespassing too
far on prudence. His friend then assisted the exhausted
invalid to his bed, and after giving him a
world of good advice, together with a warm pressure
of the hand, he stumped his way out of the
room, with a noise that brought, at every tread,
an echo from the heart of Major Lincoln.