University of Virginia Library

22. CHAPTER XXII.

A HAPPY company was assembled that evening, at the
mansion of Colonel Hendrickson, consisting of the agreeable
and interesting personages mentioned in the last
chapter, together with several young people who had
dropped in during the afternoon, and who were, of course,
expected to spend the night. For in this region of
generous living and abundant hospitality, a visit of a few
hours is a thing not to be thought of; the fashion of
making calls, which furnishes such pleasant occupation
to the city belle, is not practised; and a young lady always
carries with her, on such occasions, a wardrobe
that will serve for at least a week.

Colonel Hendrickson was comfortably seated in his
arm-chair, by the side of an immense fire-place, filled
with one of those enormous piles of wood, which the
Kentuckians build up, in the hospitable desire of giving
a warm reception to their friends; while the door was
judiciously left wide open, to admit a free circulation of
frosty air. The apartment was spacious, and the plain
old-fashioned furniture, consisting of a few articles, each

of which was particularly large and inconvenient, was
such as may be readily imagined by those of my readers
who are acquainted with the habits of the more wealthy
of the pioneers; and those who have not that advantage,
may fancy it what they please—for it has little to do
with the story. One article, however, must not be passed
over, because it is characteristic of the times and the
country—this was a bed, covered with a snow-white
counterpane, and surrounded by a fine suit of curtains;
for as cabins—by which we mean log houses—however
large, contain but few apartments, all of them are occupied
as sleeping-rooms, and the common sitting-room is
always my lady's chamber. One consequence of this
fashion is, an excessive, and even ostentatious neatness,
rendered necessary by the fact, that every apartment is
open to the inspection of visitors; and another is, that
the mistress of the mansion must be an early riser, that
her room may be put in order before breakfast, and the
visitors must retire early at night, to avoid encroaching
upon her regular hours.

There was an engraved portrait of General Washington,
hanging over the fire-place, and above it a rifle,
with a powder-horn and shot-pouch. Of the rest, it is
enough to say, that the whole interior of this primitive
dwelling, bore evidence that it was the residence of comfort
and abundance—that it was the habitation of a fine,
liberal old gentleman, and a handsome, neat, industrious,
stately, old lady. It was, as we have seen, forty years
ago, and this worthy couple were both revolutionary
patriots, who, having served their country well, in their
respective departments, were now enjoying their laurels

in content and competency. The worthy lady, who sat
in the corner opposite to her husband, diligently plying
her knitting-needles, still retained traces of great beauty,
and wore an air of demure sedateness, mingled with a
feminine, lady-like, grace, that contrasted finely with the
bold, manly, countenance of her lord. She was a dear
old lady; few of the girls were as handsome, and none
of them looked half so natural. Her soft eye beamed
with benevolence, the charities of life were in her smile,
and even her snow-white cap had a matronly and
christian-like appearance, which invited respect. Over
the back of her chair hung the almanac for the current
year, conveniently at hand for frequent reference; on
whose margin might be seen numerous marks, made
with a pencil, or still oftener with the point of a needle,
denoting certain days on which remarkable events had
happened in the family, such as the birth of a negro or
a brood of chickens, or the sale of a crop of tobacco,
and marking the times in the age of the moon, most
proper for planting particular seeds, or shearing sheep,
or weaning children.

When supper was announced, the whole party was
seated round a large table, loaded with substantials, well
cooked, and piping hot. Other people may know the
luxury of good eating, but the Kentuckians practise it.
Before the master of the house was an ample dish of
fried chickens, dressed with cream and parsley, a little
farther up were venison steaks, then fried ham; then
there was cold ham, and chipped beef, and sausages,
and, better than all, there was a fine dish of hominy, and
a noble pile of sweet-potatoes. Of the eatables composed

of bread-stuffs, served in various shapes, no one who has
had the misfortune to be raised north of Mason and
Dixon's line, can form an adequate conception. The
biscuits, white, light, spungy, and smoking hot—the
wheat bread, smoking hot—the corn bread, smoking hot
—and the cakes, almost red hot—these are luxuries
which defy the power of description, and the excellent
qualities of which can only be estimated truly by that
infallible test which the old adage supposes to be necessary
in reference to a pudding. There was no lack of
sweetmeats and pastry; but the pride of the feast were
the great pitchers of milk—sweet-milk, sour-milk, and
butter-milk; for, after all, milk is the staff of life, and
is a thousand times better than the cold water so
much lauded by modern philosophers. There were
other good things; but we shall content ourselves with
mentioning a capital cup of coffee, and leave the reader
to form his own conclusions as to the comforts of a teatable
in the backwoods.

After supper, when the company were again ranged
about the fire, the conversation took a lively turn; hunting,
war, and love, naturally became the leading
subjects. The old, when they are benevolent, love the
conversation of the young. Genuine simplicity of character
is always shown, in a relish for hearing the sentiments,
and witnessing the joys, of youth. Persons
of the strongest minds, often read children's books
with interest, and mingle with delight in their sports.
Colonel Hendrickson was one of those. Although dignified
in his manners, and even austere in his appearance,
he could unbend, and win the eager attention of a youthful

circle, by his cheerful sallies. On this evening he
was in high spirits, and joined freely in the mirth of his
guests.

“I will tell you,” said he, “a very singular hunting
adventure, which happened when Mrs. Hendrickson and
I were both young people—”

“Mr. Hendrickson,” interposed the venerable lady
mildly, but with a little spice of one having authority,
“I would not tell that story now.”

“Why not, my dear? It is a good story.”

“But you have told it so often, Mr. Hendrickson.”

“No matter for that, my dear; our guests have never
heard it.”

“You must know,” said he, while the young folks all
assumed the attitude of eager listeners, “that my father
was a wealthy farmer, in the western part of Virginia.
We lived near the mountain, and I learned to hunt when
I was a mere boy. We had plenty of servants, and I
had little else to do than to follow my own inclination.
At fourteen I used to break my father's colts, and had
gained the reputation of a daring rider; at the same age,
I could track a deer as successfully as the most experienced
hunter; and before I was grown, I had been a
volunteer among the Indians. At sixteen, I began to get
fond of going to see the young ladies; so that between
my gun, my father's colts, and the girls, I was in a fair
way of growing up a spoiled boy. Things went on in
this way until I was twenty-one; then the Revolution
came on, and saved me. War is a good thing in some
respects. It furnishes employment for idle young men.
It brings out the talents, and strengthens the character, of

those who are good for anything; and disposes of many
who would otherwise hang upon society, and be in the
way of better folks. I joined a company that was raised
in the neighborhood, and was made an officer; and off I
went, in a gay suit of regimentals, mounted on a fine
horse, with a capital rifle in my hand, and a heart full
of patriotism, and courage, and love. Perhaps you all
want to know who I was in love with?”

Here the old lady began to fidget in her chair, and
threw a deprecating look at her spouse, who nevertheless
proceeded:

“I was just of age, and my old dame there was seventeen,
when the war broke out. Our fathers' estates
joined, and we had known each other, intimately, from
childhood. She was generally allowed by every body—”

“Mr. Hendrickson,” exclaimed Mrs. H., “I would
leave that out.”

“To be remarkably handsome,” continued the Colonel,
“and what every body says, must be true. She was,
really, although I say it myself, a very great beauty.”

“Well, I declare—you ought to be ashamed, Mr.
Hendrickson!” interrupted the lady; but the husband,
who was used to these scattering shots, very composedly
continued his story.

“She was a regular toast at the barbacues, and General
Washington, then a Colonel, once drank her health
at a county meeting.”

This reminiscence was better received by the worthy
matron, who took a pinch of snuff, and then left the
room; not without throwing a look of pride and affection
at her good man, as she passed; but as the tale was

becoming rather personal, as respected herself, she remained
absent until near the close of it.”

“I cannot say that we ever fell in love with each
other; for our mutual affection commenced with childhood,
grew with our growth, and filled our hearts so
gradually, that it may be said to have formed a part of
our natures. As for courtship, there was none; I rode
to meeting with Caroline every Sunday, went with her
to the races and barbacues, danced with her at every
ball, and spent half of my time at her father's house.
When returning home late in the evening, after an
absence of several days, I used to stop at her father's,
or at my own, just as happened to be most convenient,
and felt myself as welcome at the one as at the other.
But no explanation had taken place. When equipped
for service, the last thing I did, before we marched away,
was to go there in my new regimentals, to take leave.
She wept, but my mother and sisters did the same, and
I thought nothing of it at the time.

“I was gone more than a year, was in several engagements,
and went through a great variety of hardship
and suffering. We were poorly paid, badly fed, and
terribly thrashed by the regulars, while learning the discipline
which enabled us to beat them in return. At
length our company was completely destroyed; some
were killed, some taken prisoners, some got sick, and a
few grew tired of being patriots. The remainder were
discharged, or transferred into other companies; and I
obtained leave of absence. I had lost my horse, spent
all my money, worn out my clothes, and had no means
of travelling, except on foot. Patriotism, young gentlemen,

was a poor business then, and is not much better
now. Like Falstaff's honor, it will not set a limb; and I
found to my sorrow, that it would not keep out cold, or
furnish a barefoot soldier with a pair of shoes. But it
warmed the hearts, and opened the doors of all true
whigs, and I generally procured a meal and a night's
lodging, at the close of each day's travel, under the roof
of some friend to the cause of liberty.

“I had lately thought a great deal about Caroline. It
was not until I parted from her that I knew how necessary
she was to my happiness. I now recollected her
remarks, and recalled with delight the amusements in
which we had participated together. When lying upon
the ground in my cheerless tent, or keeping guard at
some solitary outpost, I amused the weary hours in forming
plans for the future, in which she was always one
of the dramatis personæ. When anything agreeable
occurred, I longed to tell it to her; and when in trouble,
I could always fancy how entirely she would enter into
my feelings, and how tender would be her sympathy,
could she be at my side. I had no doubt that her sentiments
were similar to my own; yet, when I recollected
that no disclosure had been made, or pledge given, on
either side, and that she was not even bound to know of
my attachment, I condemned myself for having taken
no precaution to secure a treasure, without which the
laurels I had won would be valueless, and life itself a
burthen.

“In order to get home, I had to pass the door of
Caroline's father; and I determined to stop there first,
curious to know whether I should be recognized in my

wretched garb, and how I should be received. I was as
ragged a rebel as ever fought against his unlawful king.
I had no shoes on my feet, my clothes were faded, torn,
and dirty, my long hair hung tangled over my face, I
had been without a razor for some time, and this scar
which you see on my cheek, was then a green wound,
covered with a black patch. Altogether, I looked more
like a deserter, or a fugitive from a prison-ship, than a
young officer. The dogs growled at me as I approached
the house, the little negroes ran away, and the children
of the family hid behind the door. No one recognized
me, and I stood in the hall where most of the
family were assembled, like some being dropped from
another world. They were engaged in various employments;
as for Miss Caroline, she was spinning upon a
large wheel, in the farther end of the room; for young
ladies then, however wealthy their parents, were all
taught to be useful. She looked at me attentively as I
entered, but continued her work; and I never felt so happy
in my life, as when I saw her graceful form, and her
light step, while she moved forward and backward,
extending her handsome arm, and displaying her pretty
fingers, as she drew her cotton rolls into a fine thread.
The ingenuity of woman never invented a more graceful
exercise for showing off a beautiful figure, than
spinning cotton on a large wheel.

“I thought she looked pensive; but her cheek was as
blooming as ever, and her pretty round form, instead of
being emaciated with grief, had increased in stature
and maturity. I felt vexed to think that she was not
wretched, that her eyes were not red with watching, nor

her cheeks furrowed by tears. I endeavored to speak
in a feigned voice, but no sooner did the tones meet her
ear, than she sprang up, eagerly repeated my name, and
rushing towards me, clasped both my hands in hers,
with a warmth and frankness of affection, which admitted
no concealment, and left no room for doubt. The
whole family gathered round me, and it was with some
difficulty that I tore myself away.

“When my good mother had caused me to be trimmed,
and scrubbed, and brushed, I felt once more the
luxury of looking and feeling like a gentleman. I passed
a happy evening under my native roof; and the next
morning, early, shouldered my rifle, for a hunting excursion.
My friends thought it strange, that after the hardships
I had so recently undergone, I should so soon
evince a desire to engage in this fatiguing sport. But I
had different game in view from any that they dreamed
of. I took a by-path which led to the residence of a
certain young lady, approaching it through a strip of
forest, which extended nearly to the garden. Caroline
was in the garden. I thought she was dressed with
more than usual taste, and she certainly tripped along
with a livelier step than common. I leaped the fence,
and in a moment was at her side. I shall not tell what
passed, nor how long we stood concealed behind a tall
clump of rose-bushes—nor how much longer we might
have continued the tête-à-tête, if the approach of some
one had not caused Caroline to dart away, like a frighted
deer, while I retreated to the woods, the happiest fellow
in existence.

“I strolled through the forest, thinking of the pleasant

interview, recalling the soft pressure of the hand that
had trembled in mine, the exquisite tones of the voice
that still murmured in my ear, and the artless confessions
that remained deeply imprinted on my heart. It
was some hours before I recollected, that in order to
save appearances, I must kill some game to carry home.
How many fat bucks had crossed my path while I was
musing upon this precious little love-scene, I know not;
I had wandered several miles from my father's house,
and it was now past noon. Throwing off my abstraction
of mind, I turned my attention, in earnest, to the
matter in hand, and, after a diligent search, espied a deer,
quietly grazing in an open spot in full view. I took aim,
touched the hair-trigger, and my gun snapped. The
deer, alarmed, bounded away; and not being very eager,
I renewed the priming, and strolled on. Another opportunity
soon occurred, when my unlucky piece again
made default,—the priming flashed in the pan, but no
report followed. As I always kept my rifle in good
order, I was not a little surprised that two such accidents
should follow in quick succession—and I began to consider,
seriously, whether it might not be an omen that
my courtship would end in a mere flash. Again and
again, I made the same attempt, and with a similar
result. I was now far from home, and night was closing
around me; I could not see to hunt any longer, nor was
I willing to return home without having killed anything.
To sleep in the woods was no hardship, for I had long
been accustomed to lodging upon the hard ground, in
the open air; indeed, I had been kept awake most of the
preceding night, by the novel luxury of a feather-bed.
Accordingly, I kindled a fire, and threw myself on the
ground. I never was superstitious; but my mind was
at that time in a state of peculiar sensitiveness. My
return home, the sudden relief from privation and suffering,
the meeting with my family, and the interview with
Caroline, had all concurred to bewilder and intoxicate
my brain; and as I lay in the dark shade of the forest,
gazing at the few stars that twinkled through the intervals
of the foliage, some of the wild traditions of the
hunters occurred to my memory, and I persuaded myself
that a spell had been placed upon my gun. When
I fell asleep, I dreamed of being in battle unarmed, of
hunting without ammunition, and being married without
getting a wife:—the upshot of the whole matter was,
that I slept without being refreshed.

“I rose, and was proceeding towards a neighboring
spring, when a strain of singular music burst upon my
ear. It was so wild, solemn, and incoherent, that I
could make nothing of it, and became more and more
convinced that I certainly was bewitched; but, determined
to see the end of this mysterious adventure, I hastened
towards the spot from which the sounds proceeded. As
I approached, the tones became familiar, and I recognized
a voice which I had known from childhood. I had
rested near the foot of a mountainous ridge, at a spot
where a pile of rocky masses rose in tall cliffs abruptly
from the plain. Against the bald sides of these precipices,
the rising sun now shone, lighting them up with unusual
splendor. On a platform of rock, overhung by jutting
points, from which the sound of the voice was returned
by numerous echoes, knelt a superannuated negro,

whom I had known from my infancy. From my earliest
recollection, he had been a kind of privileged character,
wandering about the country, and filling the various
offices of fiddler, conjurer, and preacher. Latterly, he
had quit fiddling, and taken to philosophy, most probably
because ambition, the last infirmity of noble minds, had
induced him to seek higher honors than those achieved
by the triumphs of the violin. The old man was
engaged in his morning devotions, and was chanting a
hymn, at the top of his voice, with great apparent fervor
and sincerity. I made up my mind, in a moment, that
he was the very conjurer who had placed a spell upon
my gun, and, perhaps, upon my courtship; for he had
long served as a kind of lay-brother at the altar of
Hymen, and was famous for his skill in delivering billet-doux,
and finding out young ladies' secrets. Moreover,
his name was Cupid. As soon as his devotions were
concluded, I approached, and disclosed, with perhaps
more seriousness of manner than I felt, and, certainly,
with more than I would have acknowledged, the mysterious
conduct of my gun, which was as good a rifle as
ever a man put to his shoulder, and my suspicions that
some necromancy had been practised. The old man
was overjoyed to see me, for I had danced to his violin
many a long night; he uttered some very profound and
philosophic moral reflections, upon the rapidity with which
little boys grow up into big men—complimented me
upon my improved appearance, and safe return from the
wars, and assured me that I looked “mighty sogerfied.”
Then proceeding to inspect my unlucky weapon, he first
examined the lock, then drew the ramrod, and having
searched the barrel, handed it back, exclaiming, with a
most sarcastic grin,

`Please goodness! massa Charley, how you speck
your gun go off, 'out no powder?'

“The truth broke upon my mind with the suddenness
of an explosion. I stood with my finger in my mouth,
like a boy caught in a forbidden orchard, a lover
detected in the act of swearing allegiance upon his
knees, or an author whose wit has flashed in the pan.
The simple fact was, that in the pleasure of courting, and
the delight of winning my old dame there, who, plain as
you see her now, was, as I said before, in her young days,
allowed to be a great beauty, I had totally forgot to load
my gun! But old Cupid kept my secret—I kept my own
counsel—Caroline kept her word, and I have always had
reason to consider that as the best hunt I ever made.”