The redskins, or, Indian and Injin being the conclusion of the Littlepage manuscripts |
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 | CHAPTER IX. The redskins, or, Indian and Injin |  |
9. CHAPTER IX.
This pleasant land of ours,
Her sunny smiles, her golden fruits,
And all her world of flowers.
And well would they persuade us now.
In moments all too dear,
That, sinful though our hearts may be,
We have our Eden here.”
Simms.
The following day was Sunday. I did not rise until
nine, and when I withdrew the curtains and opened the shutters
of my window, and looked out upon the lawn, and the
fields beyond it, and the blue void that canopied all, I thought
a lovelier day, or one more in harmony with the tranquil
character of the whole scene, never shone from the heavens.
I threw up the sash, and breathed the morning air which
filled my dressing-room, pregnant with the balms and odours
of the hundred sweet-smelling flowers and plants that embellished
the shrubberies. The repose of the Sabbath seemed
to rest on man and beast; the bees and humming-birds that
buzzed about the flowers, even at their usual pursuits seemed
as if conscious of the sanctity of the day. I think no one
can be insensible to the difference there is between a Sabbath
in the country and any other day of the week. Most of
this, doubtless, is the simple consequence of abstaining from
labour; but, connected with the history of the festival, its
usual observances, and the holy calm that appears to reign
around, it is so very obvious and impressive, that a Sunday,
in a mild day in June, is to me ever a delicious resting-place,
as a mere poetical pause in the bustling and turmoil of this
world's time. Such a day was that which succeeded the
night through which we had just passed, and it came most
opportunely to soothe the spirits, tranquillize the apprehensions,
and afford a moment for sober reflection.
There lay the smouldering ruins of the barn, it is true;
a blackened monument of a wicked deed; but the mood
passed away; and, in all other respects, far and near, the
farms of Ravensnest had never spread themselves before the
eye in colours more in consonance with the general benevolence
of a bountiful nature. For a moment, as I gazed
on the broad view, I felt all my earlier interests in it revive,
and am not ashamed to own that a profound feeling of gratitude
to God came over me when I recollected it was by his
Providence I was born the heir to such a scene, instead of
having my lot cast among the serfs and dependants of other
regions.
After standing at the window a minute, in contemplation
of that pleasing view, I drew back, suddenly and painfully
conscious of the character and extent of the combination that
existed to rob me of my rights in it. America no longer
seemed America to my eyes; but, in place of its ancient
submission to the law, its quick distinction between right
and wrong, its sober and discriminating liberty, which
equally avoided submission to the injustice of power, and the
excesses of popular delusion, there had been substituted the
rapacity of the plunderer, rendered formidable by the insidious
manner in which it was interwoven with political machinery,
and the truckling of the wretches entrusted with
authority; men who were playing into the hands of demagogues,
solely in order to secure majorities to perpetuate
their own influence. Was, then, the State really so corrupt
as to lend itself to projects as base as those openly maintained
by the anti-renters? Far from it: four men out of
five, if not a larger proportion, must be, and indeed are, sensible
of the ills that their success would entail on the community,
and would lift up heart and hand to-morrow to put
them down totally and without pity; but they have made
themselves slaves of the lamp; have enlisted in the ranks
of party, and dare not oppose their leaders, who wield them
as Napoleon wielded his masses, to further private views,
apostrophizing and affecting an homage to liberty all the
while! Such is the history of man!
When the family met in the breakfast-room, a singular
tranquillity prevailed among us. As for my grandmother, I
knew her spirit and early experience, and was not so much
surprised to find her calm and reasonable; but these qualities
Patt could laugh, and yield to her buoyant spirits, just the
same as if nothing had occurred, while my uncle's other
wards maintained a lady-like quiet, that denoted anything
but apprehension. Mary Warren, however, surprised me
by her air and deportment. There she sat, in her place at
the table, looking, if possible, the most feminine, gentle, and
timid of the four. I could scarcely believe that the blushing,
retiring, modest pretty daughter of the rector could be the
prompt, decided, and clear-headed young girl who had been
of so much service to me the past night, and to whose coolness
and discretion, indeed, we were all indebted for the roof
that was over our heads, and some of us, most probably, for
our lives.
Notwithstanding this air of tranquillity, the breakfast was
a silent and thoughtful meal. Most of the conversation was
between my uncle and grandmother, and a portion of it related
to the disposal of the prisoners. There was no magistrate
within several miles of the Nest, but those who were
tainted with anti-rentism; and to carry Seneca and his companion
before a justice of the peace of this character, would
be, in effect, to let them go at large. Nominal bail would
be taken, and it is more than probable the constable employed
would have suffered a rescue, did they even deem it
necessary to go through this parade of performing their duties.
My uncle, consequently, adopted the following plan.
He had caused the two incendiaries to be transferred to the
old farm-house, which happened to contain a perfectly dry
and empty cellar, and which had much of the security of a
dungeon, without the usual defects of obscurity and dampness.
The red-men had assumed the office of sentinels, one
having his station at the door, while anothe watched near
a window which admitted the light, while it was scarcely
large enough to permit the human body to squeeze through
it. The interpreter had received instructions from the agent
to respect the Christian Sabbath; and no movement being
contemplated for the day, this little duty just suited their
lounging, idle habits, when in a state of rest. Food and
water, of course, had not been forgotten; and there my
uncle Ro had left that portion of the business, intending to
have the delinquents carried to a distant magistrate, one of
for the disturbers of the past night, no signs of them were
any longer visible; and there being little extensive cover
near the Nest, no apprehension was felt of any surprise.
We were still at breakfast, when the tone of St. Andrew's
bell came floating, plaintively, through the air, as a summons
to prepare ourselves for the services of the day. It
was little more than a mile to the church, and the younger
ladies expressed a desire to walk. My grandmother, attended
by her son, therefore, alone used the carriage, while
we young people went off in a body, on foot, half an hour
before the ringing of the second bell. Considering the state
of the country, and the history of the past night, I was
astonished at my own indifference on this occasion, no less
than at that of my charming companions; nor was it long
before I gave utterance to the feeling.
“This America of ours is a queer place, it must be admitted,”
I cried, as we crossed the lawn to take a foot-path
that would lead us, by pleasant pastures, quite to the churchdoor
without entering the high-way, except to cross it once;
“here we have the whole neighbourhood as tranquil as if
crime never disturbed it, though it is not yet a dozen hours
since riot, arson, and perhaps murder, were in the contemplation
of hundreds of those who live on every side of us.
The change is wonderful!”
“But, you will remember it is Sunday, Hugh,” put in
Patt. “All summer, when Sunday has come, we have had
a respite from disturbances and fears. In this part of the
country, the people are too religious to think of desecrating
the Sabbath by violence and armed bands. The anti-renters
would lose more than they would gain by pursuing a different
course.”
I had little or no difficulty in believing this, it being no
unusual thing, among us, to find observances of this nature
clinging to the habits of thousands, long after the devout
feeling which had first instilled it into the race has become
extinct. Something very like it prevails in other countries,
and among even higher and more intellectual classes, where it
is no unusual thing to find the most profound outward respect
manifested towards the altar and its rites, by men who live
in the hourly neglect of the first and plainest commands of
spirit, which exists, in some mode or other, wherever
man himself is to be found.
But, this equivocal piety was certainly manifested to a
striking degree, that day, at Ravensnest. The very men
who were almost desperate in their covetous longings appeared
at church, and went through the service with as
much seeming devotion as if conscious of no evil; and a
general truce appeared to prevail in the country, notwithstanding
there must have been much bitterness of feeling
among the discomfited. Nevertheless, I could detect in the
countenances of many of the old tenants of the family, an
altered expression, and a coldness of the eye, which bespoke
anything but the ancient friendly feeling which had so long
existed between us. The solution was very simple; demagogues
had stirred up the spirit—not of the Institutions, but
—of covetousness, in their breasts; and so long as that evil
tendency predominated, there was little room for better
feelings.
“Now, I shall have another look at the canopied pew,”
I cried, as we entered the last field, on our way to the
church. “That offensive, but unoffending, object had
almost gone out of my mind's eye, until my uncle recollected
it, by intimating that Jack Dunning, as he calls his
friend and council, had written him it must come down.”
“I agree with Mr. Dunning altogether,” answered Martha,
quickly. “I wish with all my heart, Hugh, you would
order that hideous-looking thing to be taken away this very
week.”
“Why this earnestness, my dear Patt? There has the
hideous thing been ever since the church was built, which
is now these three-score years, and no harm has come of
it, as I know.”
“It is harm to be so ugly. It disfigures the church;
and then I do not think distinctions of that sort are proper
for the house of God. I know this ever has been my
grandmother's opinion; but finding her father-in-law and
husband desirous of such an ornament, she consented in
silence, during their lives.”
“What do you say to all this, Miss Warren,” I asked,
turning to my companion, for by some secret influence I
canopy'?”
“`Down canopy,”' answered Mary, firmly. “I am of
Mrs. Littlepage's opinion, that churches ought to contain as
little as possible to mark worldly distinctions. Such distinctions
are inseparable from life, I know; but it is to prepare
for death that we enter such buildings.”
“And your father, Miss Warren — have you ever heard
him speak of my unfortunate pew?”
Mary hesitated an instant, changed colour, then looked
up into my face with a countenance so ingenuous and
lovely, that I would have forgiven her ever a severe comment
on some act of folly of my own.
“My father is an advocate for doing away with pews
altogether,” she answered, “and, of course, can have no
particular wish to preserve yours. He tells me, that in the
churches of the Romanists, the congregation sit, stand, or
kneel, promiscuously before the altar, or crowd around the
pulpit, without any distinctions of rank or persons. Surely,
that is better than bringing into the very temple the most
pitiful of all worldly classifications, that of more money.”
“It is better, Miss Warren; and I wish, with all my
heart, the custom could be adopted here. But the church
that might best dispense with the support obtained from
pews, and which, by its size and architecture, is best fitted
to set the example of a new mode, has gone on in the old
way, I understand, and has its pews as well as another.”
“Do we get our custom from England, Hugh?” demanded
Martha.
“Assuredly; as we do most others, good, bad and indifferent.
The property-notion would be very likely to prevail
in a country like England; and then it is not absolutely true
that everybody sits in common, even in the churches of the
continent of the old world. The Seigneur, under the old
regime, in France, had his pew, usually; and high dignitaries
of the State in no country are found mingling with the
mass of worshippers, unless it be in good company. It is
true, a duchesse will kneel in the crowd, in most Romish
churches, in the towns, for there are too many such persons
to accommodate all with privileged seats, and such honours
are reserved for the very great; but, in the country, there
of the neighbourhood. We are not quite so bad as we fancy
ourselves, in this particular, though we might be better.”
“But, you will allow that a canopied pew is unsuited to
this country, brother?”
“Not more to this, than to any other. I agree that it is
unsuited to all places of worship, where the petty differences
between men, which are created by their own usages, should
sink into insignificance, in the direct presence, as it might
be, of the power of God. But, in this country, I find a
spirit rising, which some persons would call the `spirit of
the Institutions,' that is for ever denying men rewards, and
honours, and credit exactly in the degree in which they deserve
them. The moment a citizen's head is seen above the
crowd of faces around him, it becomes the mark of rotten
eggs, as if he were raised in the pillory, and his fellow-creatures
would not tolerate any difference in moral stature.”
“How do you reconcile that with the great number of
Catos, and Brutuses, not to say of the Gracchi, that are to
be found among us?” asked Mary Warren, slily.
“Oh! these are the mere creatures of party—great men
for the nonce. They are used to serve the purposes of factions,
and are be-greated for the occasion. Thus it is, that
nine-tenths of the Catos you mention, are forgotten, even by
name, every political lustrum. But let a man rise, independently
of the people, by his own merit, and see how the
people will tolerate him. Thus it is with my pew—it is a
great pew, and become great without any agency of the
`folks;' and the `folks' don't like it.”
The girls laughed at this sally, as light-hearted, happy
girls will laugh at anything of the sort; and Patt put in her
retort, in her own direct, spirited manner.
“It is a great ugly thing, if that concession will flatter
your vanity,” she said, “and I do entreat it may come
down greatly, this present week. Really, you can have no
notion, Hugh, how much talk it has made of late.”
“I do not doubt it, my dear. The talk is all aimed at
the leases; everything that can be thought of, being dragged
into the account against us poor landlords, in order to render
our cause unpopular, and thus increase the chances of
robbing us with impunity. The good people of this State
have long predicted, and which their friends have
as warmly repudiated, are now actively at work among us,
and that the great experiment is in imminent danger of
failing, at the very moment the people are loudly exulting
in its success. Let this attempt on property succeed, ever
so indirectly, AND IT WILL BE FOLLOWED UP BY OTHERS,
WHICH WILL AS INEVITABLY DRIVE US INTO DESPOTISM, AS
A REFUGE AGAINST ANARCHY, AS EFFECT SUCCEEDS TO
CAUSE. The danger exists, now, in its very worst form—
that of political demagogueism—and must be met, face to
face, and put down manfully, and on true principles, or, in
my poor judgment, we are gone. Cant is a prevailing vice
of the nation, more especially political and religious cant,
and cant can never be appeased by concessions. My canopy
shall stand, so long as anti-rentism exists at Ravensnest,
or be torn down by violence; when men return to their
senses, and begin to see the just distinctions between meum
and tuum, the cook may have it for oven-wood, any day in
the week.”
As we were now about to cross the stile that communicated
with the highway, directly in front of the church, the
conversation ceased, as unsuited to the place and the occasion.
The congregation of St. Andrew's was small, as is
usually the case with the country congregations of its sect,
which are commonly regarded with distrust by the descendants
of the Puritans in particular, and not unfrequently with
strong aversion. The rowdy religion—half-cant, half-blasphemy
— that Cromwell and his associates entailed on so
many Englishmen, but which was not without a degree of
ferocious, narrow-minded sincerity about it, after all, has
probably been transmitted to this country, with more of its
original peculiarities than exist, at the present day, in any
other part of the world. Much of the narrow-mindedness
remains; but, unhappily, when liberality does begin to show
itself in these sects, it is apt to take the character of latitudinarianism.
In a word, the exaggerations and false principles
that were so common among the religious fanatics of
the American colonies in the seventeenth century, which
burnt witches, hanged Quakers, and denounced all but the
elect few, are now running their natural race, with the goal
with the abuses of political liberty, which must as certainly
terminate in despotism, unless checked in season; such
being, not the “spirit of the Institutions,” but the tendency
of human nature, as connected with everything in which the
right is abandoned to sustain the wrong.
Mr. Warren, I found, was a popular preacher, notwithstanding
the disfavour with which his sect was generally
regarded. A prejudiced and provincial people was naturally
disposed to look at everything that differed from their
own opinions and habits with dislike; and the simple circumstance
that he belonged to a church that possessed bishops,
was of itself tortured into a proof that his sect favoured
aristocracy and privileged classes. It is true that nearly
every other sect in the country had orders in the church,
under the names of ministers, elders, and deacons, and was
just as liable to the same criticism; but then they did not
possess bishops, and having that which we do not happen to
have ourselves, usually constitutes the gist of an offence, in
cases of this sort. Notwithstanding these obstacles to popularity,
Mr. Warren commanded the respect of all around him;
and, strange as it may seem, none the less because, of all
the clergy in that vicinity, he alone had dared to rebuke the
spirit of covetousness that was abroad, and which it suits the
morals of some among us to style the “spirit of the Institutions;”
a duty he had discharged on more than one occasion,
with great distinctness and force, though temperately
and under the full influence of a profound feeling of Christian
charity. This conscientious course had given rise to
menaces and anonymous letters, the usual recourse of the
mean and cowardly; but it had also increased the weight
of his character, and extorted the secret deference of many
who would gladly have entertained a different feeling towards
him, had it been in their power.
My grandmother and uncle were already seated in the
canopied pew when we pedestrians entered the church.
Mary Warren turned into another aisle, and proceeded to
the pew reserved for the rector, accompanied by my sister,
while the other two young ladies passed up to the chancel,
and took their customary places. I followed, and for the
first time in my life was seated beneath the offensive canopy,
however, the reader is not to imagine anything like
festooned drapery — crimson colours and gilded laces; our
ambition had never soared so high. The amount of the distinction
between this pew and any other in the church was
simply this: it was larger and more convenient than those
around it, an advantage which any other might have equally
enjoyed who saw fit to pay for it, as had been the case with
us, and it was canopied with a heavy, clumsy, ill-shaped
sort of a roof, that was a perfect caricature of the celebrated
baldachino of St. Peter's, in Rome. The first of these advantages
probably excited no particular envy, for it came
within the common rule of the country, of “play and pay;”
but as for the canopy, that was aristocratic, and was not to
be tolerated. Like the leasehold tenure, it was opposed to
the `spirit of the Institutions.' It is true, it did no real harm,
as an existing thing; it is true, it had a certain use, as a
memorial of past opinions and customs; it is true, it was
property, and could not be touched without interfering with
its privileges; it is true, that every person who saw it secretly
felt there was nothing, after all, so very inappropriate
in such a pew's belonging to a Littlepage; and, most of all,
it was true that they who sat in it never fancied for a moment
that it made them any better or any worse than the
rest of their fellow-creatures. There it was, however; and,
next to the feudal character of a lease, it was the most
offensive object then existing in Ravensnest. It may be
questioned if the cross, which occupied the place that, according
to provincial orthodoxy, a weathercock should have
adorned, or Mr. Warren's surplice, was one-half as offensive.
When I raised my head, after the private devotions which
are customary with us semi-papishes, on entering a place
of worship, and looking around me, I found that the building
was crowded nearly to overflowing. A second glance
told me that nearly every eye was fastened on myself. At
first, the canopy having been uppermost so lately in my
mind, I fancied that the looks were directed at that; but I
soon became satisfied that I, in my own unworthy person,
was their object. I shall not stop to relate most of the idle
and silly reports that had got abroad, in connection with the
the preceding day, or in connection with anything else,
though one of those reports was so very characteristic, and
so entirely peculiar to the subject in hand, that I cannot
omit it. That report was simply a rumour that I had caused
one of my own barns to be set on fire, the second night of
my arrival, in order to throw the odium of the act on those
“virtuous and hard-working husbandmen,” who only maintained
an illegal and armed body on foot, just to bully and
worry me out of my property. Yes, there I sat; altogether
unconscious of the honour done me; regarded by quite half
that congregation as the respected and just-minded youth,
who had devised and carried out precisely such a rascally
scheme. Now, no one who has not had the opportunity to
compare, can form any idea how much more potent and
formidable is the American “folks say,” than the vulgar
reports of any other state of society. The French on dit is
a poor, pitiful report, placed by the side of this vast lever,
which, like that of Archimedes, only wants a stand for its
fulcrum, to move the world. The American “folks say”
has a certain omnipotence, so long as it lasts, which arises
from, not the spirit, but the character of the institutions,
themselves. In a country in which the people rule, `folks'
are resolved that their `say' shall not pass for nothing. So
few doubt the justice of the popular decision, that holy writ,
itself, has not, in practical effect, one-half the power that
really belongs to one of these reports, so long as it suits the
common mind to entertain it. Few dare resist it; fewer
still call in question its accuracy; though, in sober truth, it
is hardly ever right. It makes and unmakes reputation, for
the time being bien entendy; it even makes and unmakes
patriots, themselves. In short, though never quite truth,
and not often very much like the truth, paradoxical as it
may appear, it is truth, and nothing but the truth, pro hac
vice. Everybody knows, nevertheless, that there is no permanency
to what “folks say” about anything; and that
`folks' frequently, nay, almost invariably, “unsay” what
has been said six months before; yet, all submit to the authority
of its dicta, so long as `folks' choose to `say.' The
only exception to this rule, and it merely proves it, is in the
case of political parties, when there are always two “folks
there are half-a-dozen, no two of which are ever precisely
alike!
There I sat, as I afterwards learned, “the observed of
all observers,” merely because it suited the purposes of those
who wished to get away my estate to raise various reports to
my prejudice,—not one of which, I am happy to have it in
my power to say, was in any manner true. The first good
look that I took at the congregation satisfied me that very
much the larger part of it consisted of those who did not
belong to St. Andrew's church. Curiosity, or some worse
feeling, had trebled the number of Mr. Warren's hearers
that day,—or, it might be more correct to say, of my observers.
There was no other interruption to the services than that
which was produced by the awkwardness of so many who
were strangers to the ritual. The habitual respect paid to
religious rites kept every one in order; and, in the midst of
a feeling that was as malignant and selfish as well could
exist under circumstances of so little provocation, I was safe
from violence, and even from insult. As for myself, little
was or could be known of my character and propensities at
Ravensnest. School, college, and travelling, with winter
residences in town, had made me a sort of stranger in my
own domain, and I was regarded through the covenants of
my leases, rather than through any known facts. The
same was true, though in a less degree, with my uncle, who
had lived so much abroad as to be considered a sort of half
foreigner, and one who preferred other countries to his own.
This is an offence that is rarely forgiven by the masses in
America, though it is probably the most venial sin that one
who has had the opportunities of comparing can commit. Old
nations offer so many more inducements than young nations
to tempt men of leisure and cultivation to reside in them,
that it is not surprising the travelled American should prefer
Europe to his own quarter of the world; but the jealousy
of a provincial people is not apt to forgive this preference.
For myself, I have heard it said, and I believe it to be true,
to a certain extent, that countries on the decline, supposing
them to have been once at the summit of civilization, make
pleasanter abodes for the idler than nations on the advance.
visiters than England, though climate must pass for something
in such a comparison. But these long absences, and
supposed preferences for foreign life, had made my uncle
Ro, in one sense, unpopular with the mass, which has been
taught to believe, by means of interested and fulsome eulogies
on their own state of society, that it implies something
more than a want of taste, almost a want of principle, to
prefer any other. This want of popularity, however, was
a good deal relieved by a wide and deep conviction of my
uncle's probity, as well as of his liberality, his purse having
no more string to it than General Harrison's door was
thought to have of a latch. But the case was very different
with my grandmother. The early part of her life had been
spent at the Nest, and it was impossible so excellent a woman
could be anything but respected. She had, in truth,
been a sore impediment with the anti-renters; more especially
in carrying out that part of their schemes which is
connected with traduction, and its legitimate offspring, prejudice.
It would hardly do to traduce this noble-minded,
charitable, spirited, and just woman; yet, hazardous as the
experiment must and did seem, it was attempted, and not
altogether without success. She was accused of an aristocratic
preference of her own family to the families of other
people. Patt and I, it was urged, were only her grandchildren,
and had ample provision made for us in other
estates besides this,—and a woman of Mrs. Littlepage's
time of life, it was said, who had one foot in the grave,
ought to have too much general philanthropy to give a preference
to the interests of mere grandchildren, over the interests
of the children of men who had paid her husband and
sons rent, now, for quite sixty years. This attack had
come from the pulpit, too, or the top of a molasses hogshead,
which was made a substitute for a pulpit, by an itinerant
preacher, who had taken a bit of job-work, in which
the promulgation of the tenets of the gospel and those of
anti-rentism was the great end in view.
As I have said, my good grandmother suffered somewhat,
in public estimation, in consequence of this assault. It is
true, had any one openly charged the circulators of this silly
calumny with their offence, they would have stoutly denied
a hundred others, varying from it only in degree, and not
at all in character, was industriously circulated in order
to render the Littlepages unpopular; unpopularity being
among us the sin that is apt to entail all the evil consequences
of every other offence.
The reader who is not acquainted with the interior of our
social habits, must not suppose that I am colouring for effect.
So far from this, I am quite conscious of having kept the
tone of the picture down, it being an undeniable truth that
nothing of much interest, now-a-days, is left to the simple
decision of principles and laws, in this part of the country at
least. The supremacy of numbers is so great, that scarce
a private suit of magnitude is committed to a jury without
attempts, more or less direct, to influence the common mind
in favour of one side or the other, in the hope that the jurors
will be induced to think as the majority thinks. In Europe,
it is known that judges were, nay, are, visited and solicited
by the parties; but, here, it is the public that must be treated
in the same way. I am far from wishing to blazon the defects
of my own country, and I know from observation, that
corresponding evils, differing only in their exterior aspects,
and in their mode of acting, exist elsewhere; but these are
the forms in which some of our defects present themselves,
and he is neither a friend to his country, nor an honest man,
who wishes them to be bundled up and cloaked, instead of
being exposed, understood, and corrected. This notion of
`nil nisi bene' has done an infinite degree of harm to the
country; and, through the country, to freedom.
I do not think the worship of the temple amounted to any
great matter that day in St. Andrew's Church, Ravensnest.
Quite half the congregation was blundering through the
liturgy, and every man who lost his place in the prayerbook,
or who could not find it at all, seemed to fancy it was
quite sufficient for the ritual of us semi-papists if he kept his
eye on me and my canopied pew. How many pharisees
were present, who actually believed that I had caused my
own barn to be burned, in order to throw opprobrium on the
`virtuous,' `honest,' and `hard-working' tenants, and who
gave credit to the stories affecting my title, and all the rest
country, I have no way of knowing; but subsequent circumstances
have given me reason to suppose they were not a
few. A great many men left the House of God that morning,
I make no doubt, whose whole souls were wrapped up
in effecting an act of the grossest injustice, professing to
themselves to thank God that they were not as wicked as
the being whom they desired to injure.
I stopped to say a word to Mr. Warren, in the vestryroom,
after the people were dismissed, for he had not passed
the night with us at the Nest, though his daughter had.
After we had said a word about the occurrence of the morning,
the good rector, having heard a rumour of the arrest of
certain incendiaries, without knowing who they were, I
made a more general remark or two previously to quitting
the place.
“Your congregation was unusually large this morning,
sir,” I said, smiling, “though not altogether as attentive as
it might have been.”
“I owe it to your return, Mr. Littlepage, aided by the
events of the past day or two. At one moment I was afraid
that some secret project was on foot, and that the day and
place might be desecrated by some scene of disgraceful violence.
All has gone off well in that respect, however, and
I trust that no harm will come of this crowd. We Americans
have a respect for sacred things which will ordinarily
protect the temple.”
“Did you, then, think St. Andrew's ran any risk to-day,
sir?”
Mr. Warren coloured a little, and he hesitated an instant
before he answered.
“You doubtless know, young sir,” he said, “the nature
of the feeling that is now abroad in the country. With a
view to obtain its ends, anti-rentism drags every auxiliary
it can find into its ranks, and, among other things, it has
assailed your canopied pew. I own, that, at first, I apprehended
some assault might be contemplated on that.”
“Let it come, sir; the pew shall be altered on a general
and right principle, but not until it is let alone by envy,
malice, and covetousness. It would be worse to make a concession
With these words in my mouth, I took my leave, hastening
on to overtake the girls in the fields.
| CHAPTER IX. The redskins, or, Indian and Injin | |