 | CHAPTER V.
THE DINNER TABLE. Swallow Barn, or A sojourn in the Old Dominion |  |
5. CHAPTER V.
THE DINNER TABLE.
About half after three, Carey, with a solemn official
air that was well set off by a singularly stiff costume,—assuming
for the nonce the rank and station
of head-waiter,—announced that dinner was on the
table. The greater part of the company was collected
in the drawing-room; some two or three loitered
through the hall. At the summons, Mr. Tracy, with
that alacrious motion that sometimes belongs to old
men, sprang upon his feet and hastened to the opposite
side of the room, where my cousin Lucretia was
seated, took her hand, and, with a repetition of formal
bows after a fashion in vogue in the last century,
led her to the dining-room. Meriwether stood at
the door beckoning to one after another of his guests,
with that kind smile and unstudied grace that are
natural to a benevolent temper; his tall figure somewhat
constrained in its motion by an infusion of modesty,
which is always discernible in him when
placed in any conspicuous position. As soon as Mr.
Tracy led the way, Swansdown, with some particularity,
offered his arm to Bel: the other ladies
found an escort among the more gallant of the gentlemen;
and after them the rest of the party pressed
forward pell-mell towards the dining-room, leaving
Meriwether to bring up the rear, who, upon arriving
him in the smallest matters, placed Mr. Wart,
Mr. Chub, and one or two of his elder guests near his
own seat.
I must not forget to mention, that before we had
taken our chairs, Mistress Winkle, decked out in all
the pomp of silk and muslin, sailed, as it were, with
muffled oars into the room from a side door; and,
with a prim and stealthy motion, deposited her timeworn
person near to my cousin Lucretia. It is a
custom of affectionate courtesy in the family, to accord
to this venerable relic of the past generation the
civility of a place at table. Mr. Tracy was aware
of Meriwether's feelings towards the aged dame;
and, prompted by his overflowing zeal on the present
occasion to manifest his deference to his host, he no
sooner observed her than he broke out into a jocose
and gallant recognition:—
“Mistress Winkle! what, my old friend! It rejoices
me to see you looking so well—and so youthful!
The world goes merrily with you. Gad's-my
life! if Colonel Tarleton were only alive again to
make another visit to the James River, it would be
hard to persuade him that time had gained so small
a victory over the romping girl that he had the impertinence
to chuckle under the chin so boldly. A saucy
and stark trooper he was in those days, Mistress
Winkle! But the gout, the gout, I warrant, did his
business for him long ago! Ha, ha! You hav'nt forgot
old times, Mistress Winkle, although they have
well nigh forgotten you.”
The housekeeper, during this outbreak, courtesied,
her silken folds in her chair, with somewhat of
the motion of a motherly hen in the process of incubation.
Mr. Tracy had touched upon an incident
that, for nearly half a century, had been a theme that
warmed up all her self-complacency, and which
owed its origin to one of the English partisan's forays
upon the river side, during the Revolution, in which
he was said to have made himself very much at home
at Swallow Barn, and to have bestowed some complimental
notice upon the then buxom and blooming
dependant of the family.
The table was furnished with a profusion of the
delicacies afforded by the country; and, notwithstanding
it was much more ample than the accommodation
of the guests required, it seemed to be
stored rather with a reference to its own dimensions
than to the number or wants of those who were collected
around it. At the head, immediately under
the eye of our hostess, in the customary pride of place,
was deposited a goodly ham of bacon, rich in its own
perfections, as well as in the endemic honours that
belong to it in the Old Dominion. According to a
usage worthy of imitation, it was clothed in its own
dark skin, which the imaginative mistress of the kitchen
had embellished by carving into some fanciful
figures. The opposite end of the table smoked with a
huge roasted saddle of mutton, that seemed, from its
trim and spruce air, ready to gallop off the dish. Between
these two extremes was scattered an enticing
diversity of poultry, prepared with many savoury adjuncts,
and especially that topical luxury, which yet
sworn brother to the ham, and old Virginia's standard
dish. The intervening spaces displayed a profusion
of the products of the garden; nor were oysters and
crabs wanting where room allowed; and, where nothing
else could be deposited, as if scrupulous of
showing a bare spot of the table-cloth, the bountiful
forethought of Mistress Winkle had provided
a choice selection of pickles of every colour and
kind. From the whole array of the board it was obvious,
that abundance and variety were deemed no
less essential to the entertainment, than the excellence
of the viands.
A bevy of domestics, in every stage of training,
attended upon the table, presenting a lively type of
the progress of civilization, or the march of intellect;
the veteran waitingman being well contrasted with
the rude half-monkey, half-boy that seemed to have
been for the first time admitted to the parlour;
whilst, between these two, were exhibited the successive
degrees that mark the advance from the
young savage to the sedate and sophisticated image
of the old-fashioned negro nobility. It was equal to
a gallery of caricatures, a sort of scenic satire upon
man in his various stages, with his odd imitativeness
illustrated in the broadest lines. Each had added
some article of coxcombry to his dress; a pewter
buckle fastened to the shirt for a breast-pin; a dingy
parti-coloured riband, ostentatiously displayed across
the breast, with one end lodged in the waistcoat
pocket; or a preposterous cravat girding up an exorbitantly
starched shirt collar, that rivalled the driven
and fretted the lower cartilage of a pair of refractory,
raven-hued ears. One, more conceited than
the rest, had platted his wool (after a fashion common
amongst the negroes,) into five or six short cues
both before and behind; whilst the visages of the
whole group wore that grave, momentous elongation
that is peculiar to the African face, and which is
eminently adapted to express the official care and
personal importance of the wearer.
As the more immediate, and what is universally
conceded to be the more important, business of the
dinner was discussed, to wit, the process of dulling
the edge of appetite, the merriment of the company
rose in proportion to the leisure afforded to its exercise;
and the elder portion of the guests gently slid
into the vivacity of the younger. Mr. Tracy did not
lose for an instant that antiquated cavalier air which
he had assumed on entering the room. As Harvey
Riggs expressed it, “he was painfully polite and
very precisely gay.” The ladies, for a time, gave
their tone to the table; and, under this influence, we
found ourselves falling into detached circles, where
each pursued its separate theme, sometimes in loud
and rapid converse, mingled with frequent bursts of
laughter that spread an undistinguishable din through
the room; and sometimes in low and confidential
murmurings, of which it was impossible to say
whether they were grave or gay. Swansdown's
voice was poured into Bel's ear in gentle and unremitting
whispers, of which Ned Hazard alone, of all
the guests—to judge by his intense and abstracted
equally abstracted, was unnaturally merry, and
laughed much more than was necessary at Harvey's
jokes. Catharine talked with singular saga-city,
and listened, with still more singular earnestness,
to Mr. Beverley, who was instructing her, with
equal interest and eloquence, upon the wholesome
effects he had found in the abundant use of flannel
—which he described with unnecessary amplitude of
details—in repelling the assaults of an ancient enemy,
the rheumatism. Now and then a loud and
rather obstreperous laugh, not altogether suited to
the region he inhabited, and which some such consciousness
seemed abruptly to arrest, was set up by
Taliaferro Hedges. This worthy had already begun
to occupy that questionable ground which a
gentleman of loose habits and decaying reputation
is pretty sure to arrive at in his descending career.
Dissipation had lowered him somewhat in the world,
and had already introduced him to a class of associates
who had made a visible impression on his
manners, a circumstance that very few men have so
little shrewdness as not to perceive, nor so much
hardihood as not to be ashamed of. In truth, Toll
had imbibed some of the slang, and much of the boisterousness
of the bar-room; but he had not yet
given such unequivocal indications of the incurableness
of his infirmity, as to induce his acquaintances
(who for the most part upheld him on some family
consideration) to exclude him from their houses; on
the contrary, a certain strain of disorderly but generous
companionship, breaking out and shining above
him to the favour of those who were unwilling to
desert him as long as his case was not absolutely
hopeless. The course of intemperance, however,
gravitates by a fatal law downwards: it is unfortunately
of the most rare occurrence, that the mind
which has once been debauched by a habit of intoxication,
ever regains that poise of self-respect which
alone preserves the purity of the individual. It was
easy to perceive that Hedges laboured under a perpetual
struggle to constrain his deportment within even
the broader boundaries that limit the indulgence of
the class of gentlemen.
Amidst these diversified exhibitions, Mr. Wart
ate like a man with a good appetite, and gave himself
no trouble to talk, except in the intervals of serving
his plate; for he remarked, “that he was not
accustomed to these late hours, and thought them
apt to make one surcharge his stomach;” whilst the
parson, who sate opposite to him, wore a perpetual
smile during the repast; sometimes looking as if he
intended to say something, but more generally watching
every word that fell from Mr. Wart's lips.
The courses disappeared; a rich dessert came
and went: the spirits of the company rose still higher.
The wine, iced almost to the freezing point,
moved in a busy sphere; for the intense heat of the
weather gave it an additional zest. We had made
the usual libations to the ladies, and exchanged the
frequent healths, according to the hackneyed and unmeaning
custom that prevails unquestioned, I suppose,
over Christendom, when the epoch arrived at
are expected to withdraw; that time which, if
I were a sovereign in this dinner-party realm, should
be blotted from the festive calendar. I should shame
me to acknowledge that there was any moment in
the social day when it was unseemly for the temperate
sex to look upon or listen to the lord of creation
in his pastimes; but I was neither monarch nor magician,
and so we were left alone to pursue unreproved
the frolic current upon which we had been lifted.
Before us glittered the dark sea of the table,
studded over with “carracks,” “argosies,” and
“barks” freighted with the wealth of the Azores,
Spain, Portugal and France; and with the lighters
by which these precious bulks were unladen, and
deposited in their proper receptacles. In sooth, the
wine was very good.
Almost the first words that were spoken, after we
had readjusted ourselves from the stir occasioned by
the retreat of the ladies, came from Mr. Tracy. He
had been waiting for a suitable opportunity to acquit
himself of a grave and formal duty. The occasion
of the dinner, he conceived, demanded of him a peculiar
compliment to the host. His strict and refined
sensitiveness to the requirements of gentle breeding
would have forbidden him to sleep quietly in his bed
with this task unperformed; and therefore, with a
tremulous and fluttered motion, like that of a young
orator awe-struck at the thought of making a speech,
he rose to command the attention of the table. A
faint-hearted smile sat rigidly upon his visage, “like
moonlight on a marble statue,”—his eye glassy, his
feeble counterfeit of mirth. It was evident the old
gentleman was not accustomed to public speaking:
and so he remarked, as he turned towards Meriwether,
and continued an address some what in the following
terms:—
“Since we have, my dear sir, so fortunately succeeded
in putting an end to a vexatious question,—
which, although it has resulted in throwing upon my
hands a few barren and unprofitable acres, has given
all the glory of the settlement to you;—(here his voice
quavered considerably,) for it was indubitably, my
very worthy and excellent friend, at your instance
and suggestion, that we struck out the happy thought
of leaving it to the arbitrement of our kind friends:—
and to tell the truth, (at this point the old gentleman
brightened up a little and looked jocular, although he
still had the quaver,) I don't know but I would as
lief have the lawsuit as the land,—seeing that it has
been the occasion of many merry meetings:—I will
take upon myself to propose to this good company of
neighbours and friends, that we shall drink,—ha ha!
(continued the veteran, waving his hand above his
head, and inclining towards the table with a gay
gesticulation,) that we shall drink, gentlemen, a
bumper; (here he took the decanter in his hand, and
filled his glass.) “Fill your glasses all around,—no
flinching!”
“Fill up! fill up!” cried every one, anxious to
help the old gentleman out of his difficulties, “Mr.
Tracy's toast in a bumper!”
“Here,” continued Mr. Tracy, holding his glass
host, Mister Francis Meriwether of Swallow
Barn!—a sensible and enlightened gentleman,—a
considerate landlord,—a kind neighbour, an independent,
upright, sensible,—enlightened—(here he became
sadly puzzled for a word, and paused for a full
half minute,) reasonable defender of right and justice;
a man that is not headstrong (his perplexity
still increasing) on the score of landmarks, or indeed
on any score!—I say, gentlemen, here's wishing him
success in all his aims, and long life to enjoy a great
many such joyous meetings as the present; besides
—”
“Health of our host, and many such meetings!”
exclaimed Mr. Wart, interrupting the speaker, and
thus cutting short a toast of which it was evident
Mr. Tracy could not find the end.
“Health to our host,—joyous meetings!” cried
out half a dozen voices.
And thus relieved from his floundering progress,
the old gentleman took his seat in great glee, remarking
to the person next to him, “that he was not
much practised in making dinner speeches, but that
he could get through very well when he was once
pushed to it.”
Meriwether sat out this adulatory and unexpected
assault with painful emotions, sinking under the
weight of his natural diffidence. The rest of the
company awaited in silence the slow, drawling and
distinct elocution of the speaker, with an amused and
ludicrous suspense, until Mr. Wart's interruption,
which was the signal for a shout of approbation;
while Mr. Tracy chuckled at the eminent success of
his essay, and Meriwether stood bowing and blushing
with the bashfulness of a girl.
When the clamour subsided, Philly Wart remarked
in a quiet tone,—
“I think our friend Meriwether will scarcely escape
a speech in reply to this compliment. The
fashion is to return the broadside whenever it is
given.”
“I pray you,” said Meriwether, with an emotion
amounting almost to alarm, “do not ask me to say
any thing. I have an insuperable aversion to such
efforts: my nerves will not stand it. Mr. Tracy
knows how kindly I take the expression of his regard.”
Harvey Riggs, who observed Meriwether's real
embarrassment, rose to divert the attention of the
company to another quarter; and putting on an air
of great solemnity, observed that he was unwilling to
lose so favourable an opportunity of paying a tribute
to two very worthy, and on the present occasion he
might say, conspicuous persons; “I mean, gentlemen,”
said he, “Mr. Philpot Wart and Mr. Singleton
Oglethorpe Swansdown. Replenish, gentlemen!
Here's to the health of the pacificators! the men
whose judgments could not be led astray by the decisions
of courts, and whose energies could not be
subdued by the formidable difficulties of the Apple-pie!”
“Bravo!” rang from every mouth.
“A speech from Mr. Swansdown!” exclaimed
Ned Hazard.
“A speech from Mr. Swansdown!” echoed from
all quarters.
The gentleman called on rose from his chair.
Harvey Riggs rapped upon the table to command
silence; there followed a pause.
“I do not rise to make a speech,” said Swansdown
with great formality of manner.
“Hear him!” shouted Harvey.
“I do not rise, gentlemen,” said the other, “to
make a speech; but custom, in these innovating
times, almost imperatively exacts that the festive,
spontaneous and unmerited encomiums of the table,—
that, I remark, the festive, spontaneous and unmerited
encomiums of the table, generated in the heat
of convivial zeal, should meet their response in the
same hilarious spirit in which they find their origin
Gentlemen will understand me; it is not my purpose
to rebuke a custom which may, and doubtless
does, contribute to the embellishment of the social
relations. It is merely my purpose, on the present
occasion, as an humble, and, if I know myself, an
unpretending individual, to respond to the free and
unbidden expressions of the good-will of this company
to myself, and my distinguished colleague, with
whom my name has been associated. In his name
therefore, and in my own, I desire to acknowledge
the deep sense we entertain of the compliment
conveyed in the toast of our worthy fellow-guest.
(Philly Wart bowed and smiled.) It will be amongst
the proudest topics of remembrance left to me, gentlemen,
amidst the vicissitudes of a changeful life,
that the personal sacrifices I have made and the
to define and establish the complex relations and
rights of two estimable friends, have found a favourable
and flattering approval in the good sense of this
enlightened company. If it should further result,
that the great principles developed, and, to a certain
extent, promulgated in this endeavour, should hereafter
redound to the advantage of the generation
amongst which I have the honour to live, I need
not say how sincerely I shall rejoice that neither
my friend nor myself have lived in vain. I propose,
gentlemen, in return,—“The freeholders of the Old
Dominion; the prosperity of the Commonwealth reposes
securely upon their intelligence!”
“Amen!” said Hazard in an under tone, intended
only for my ear, “and may they never fail to do
honour to unpretending merit!”
“I suppose,” said Mr. Wart, speaking in an unusually
placid tone, as he rose with a face reefed into
half its ordinary length with smiles, and, at the same
time, expressing arch waggery, “I suppose it is necessary
that I also should speak to this point. There
are, if your honour pleases—Mr. President—ordinarily
two different motives for proposing the health of
an individual at table. The one is a bonâ fide purpose
to exalt and honour the person proposed, by
a public manifestation of the common feeling toward
him, by reason of some certain act or deed by
him performed, entitling him, in the estimation of
the persons proposing, to applause. In this point of
view, my worthy friend who has just spoken, seems
to have considered the case in hand. The second
be, and such I take it, a certain intent,
inter alia, to promote and encourage cheerful companionship.
With whatever gravity the res gesta
may be conducted, I hold that it is to be looked upon
diverso intuitu, according to the temper and condition
of the company for the time being.
Now, sir, I will not venture to say that my learned
friend has not wisely considered the toast in the
present instance, as intended and made in all gravity
of purpose; but, seeing that this company did
certainly manifest some levity on the occasion, I
choose, sir, to stand on the sunny side of the question,
as the safest, in the present emergency. Vere
sapit, sir, qui alieno periculo sapit: I, therefore, sir,
go for the joke. I have sometimes seen an old hound
tongue upon a false scent; but then there is music
made, and, I believe, that is pretty much all that is
wanting on the present occasion.
“When a man is praised to his face, gentlemen of
the jury,” he continued, rising into an energetic key,
and mistaking the tribunal he was addressing,—“I
beg pardon, gentlemen, you see the ermine and the
woolsack will stick to my tongue: Omnibus hoc
vitium cantoribus, as an ancient author (I forget
his name) very appropriately remarks. What is
bred in the bone,—you know the proverb. But when
a man is praised to his face,”—here the speaker
stretched out his arm, and stood silent for a moment,
as if endeavouring to recollect what he intended to
say,—for he had lost the thread of his speech,—and
during this pause his countenance grew so irresistibly
the first been collecting a storm of laughter, now
broke out with concentrated violence.
“Poh, Ned Hazard! you put every thing I had to
say out of my head with that horse-laugh,” continued
the orator, looking at Ned, who had thrown himself
back in his chair, giving full vent to his merriment.
Philly patiently awaited the blowing over of this
whirlwind, with an increased drollery of look; and
then, as it subsided, he made a bow with his glass in
his hand, saying, in an emphatic way, “your healths,
gentlemen!” swallowed his wine, and took his seat,
amidst renewed peals of mirth. At the same moment,
from the depths of this tumult, was distinctly heard
the voice of Mr. Chub, who cried out, with his eyes
brimful of tears, and a half suffocated voice,—“A
prodigious queer man, that Mister Philly Wart!”
Segars were now introduced, the decanters were
filled for the second time, and the flush of social enjoyment
reddened into a deeper hue. Some one or
two additional guests had just arrived, and taken
their seats at the table, a full octave lower in tone
than their excited comrades of the board: it was like
the mingling of a few flats too many in a lively overture;
but the custom of the soil sanctions and invites
these irregularities, and it was not long before this
rear-guard hastened on to the van. The scene presented
a fine picture of careless, unmethodized and unenthralled
hospitality, where the guests enjoyed themselves
according to their varying impulses, whether
in grave argumentation or toppling merriment. Now
and then, a song,—none of the best in execution,—
trolled, with some decisive thumpings on the table, by
way of marking time, in which it might be perceived
that even old Mr. Tracy was infected with the prevailing
glee, for his eyes sparkled, and his head shook
to the music, and his fist was brandished with a
downward swing, almost in the style of a professed
royster. In the intervals of the singing a story was
told. Sometimes the conversation almost sank into
a murmur; sometimes it mounted to a gale, its billow
rolling in with a deep-toned, heavy, swelling
roar, until it was spent in a general explosion. Not
unfrequently, a collapse of the din would surprise
some single speaker in the high road of his narrative,
and thus detect him recounting, in an upper key,
some incident which he had perhaps addressed to
one auditor, and which, not a little to his disconcertment,
he would find himself compelled to communicate
to the whole circle. It was in such an interval
as this, that Hedges was left struggling through the
following colloquy with Ralph Tracy:—
“I made a narrow escape.”
“How was that?” asked Ralph.
“Oh, a very serious accident, I assure you! I came
within an ace of getting yoked that trip; married, sir,
by all that's lovely!”
“No!” exclaimed Ralph, “you did'nt, sure enough
Toll?”
“If I didn't,” replied Toll, “I wish I may be —
(here he slipped out a round, full and expressive malediction.)
I'll tell you how it was. Up at the
Sweet Springs I got acquainted with a preposterously
his wife and daughter with him, and a whole squad
of servants. Forty thousand dollars a year! and the
daughter as frenchified as a sunflower: not so particularly
young neither, but looking as innocent as if
she wa'nt worth one copper. I went for grace, and
began to show out a few of my ineffable pulchritudes,—and
what do you think?—she was most horribly
struck. I put her into an ecstasy with one of
my pigeon-wings. She wanted to find out my name.”
“Well, and what came of it?”
“Thar were only three things,” said Toll, “in the
way. If it had not been for them, I should have been
planting sugar this day. First, the old one didn't
take to if very kindly; and then, the mother began
to rear a little at me too; but I shouldn't have considered
that of much account, only the daughter herself
seemed as much as to insinuate that the thing
wouldn't do.”
“Did you carry it so far as to put the question to
her?”
“Not exactly so far as that. No, no, I was not
such a fool as to come to the ore tenus; I went on
the non-committal principle. She as much as signified
to a friend of mine, that she didn't wish to make
my acquaintance: and so, I took the hint and was
off:—wa'nt that close grazing, Ralph?”
This concluding interrogatory was followed up by
one of Toll's loud cachinnations, that might have
been heard a hundred paces from the house, and
which was, as usual, chopped short by his perceiving
that it did not take effect so decidedly as he expected
rather silent for the next half hour.
The dining-room had for some time past been
gradually assuming that soft, mellow, foggy tint
which is said by the painters to spread such a charm
over an Indian-summer landscape. The volumes of
smoke rolled majestically across the table, and then
rose into the upper air, where they spread themselves
out into a rich, dun mass that flung a certain hazy
witchery over the scene. The busy riot of revelry
seemed to echo through another Cimmerium, and
the figures of the guests were clad in even a spectral
obscurity. Motionless, exact and sombre as an
Egyptian obelisk, old Carey's form was dimly seen
relieved against the light of a window, near one end
of the table; all the other domestics had fled, and
the veteran body-guard alone remained on duty.
The wine went round with the regularity of a city
milk-cart, stopping at every door. A mine of wit
was continually pouring out its recondite treasures:
the guests were every moment growing less fastidious;
and the banquet had already reached that
stage when second-rate wit is as good as the best, if
not better. The good humour of our friend Wart
had attracted the waggery of Riggs and Hazard,
and they were artfully soliciting and provoking him
to a more conspicuous part in the farce of the evening.
Like Munchausen's frozen horn, the counsellor
was rapidly melting into a noisy temperature. He
had volunteered some two or three stories, of which
he seemed, some how or other, to have lost the pith.
In short, it was supposed, from some droll expression
Mr. Wart was growing gay.
Harvey Riggs, when matters were precisely in this
condition, contrived, by signs and secret messages,
to concentrate the attention of the company upon
the old lawyer, just as he was setting out with the
history of a famous campaign.
“You all remember the late war,” said Philly,
looking around, and finding the eyes of every one
upon him.
This announcement was followed by a laugh of
applause, indicating the interest that all took in the
commencement of the narrative.
“There is certainly nothing particularly calculated
to excite your risible faculties in that!” said he, as
much amused as his auditory.—“I was honoured by
his Excellency the Governor of Virginia with a
commission as captain of a troop of horse, having
been previously elected to that station by a unanimous
vote at a meeting of the corps.”
“Explain the name of the troop,” said Ned Hazard.
“The Invincible Blues,” replied the other; “the
uniform being a blue bobtail, and the corps having
resolved that they would never be vanquished.”
“I am told,” interrupted Harvey Riggs, “that you
furnished yourself with a new pair of yellow buckskin
small-clothes on the occasion; and that with
them and your blue bobtail you produced a sensation
through the whole country.”
“Faith!” said Mr. Chub, speaking across the table,
“Mr. Riggs, I can assure you I don't think a
“I took prodigious pains,” continued Philly, not
heeding the interruption, “to infuse into my men the
highest military discipline. There wasn't a man in
the corps that couldn't carry his nag over any worm
fence in the county,—throwing off the rider—”
“The rider of the fence, you mean,” said Hazard,
drily.
“To be sure I do!” replied Philly, with briskness,
“you don't suppose I meant to say that my men
were ex equis dejecti—exephippiated, if I may be allowed
to coin a word? No, sir, while the horse kept
his legs, every man was like a horse-fly.”
“What system of discipline did you introduce?”
inquired Harvey.
“The system of foxhunting,” answered Mr.
Wart; “the very best that ever was used for cavalry.”
“Go on,” said Harvey.
“We received intelligence, somewhere in the
summer of eighteen hundred and thirteen, that old
Admiral Warren was beginning to squint somewhat
awfully at Norfolk, and rather taking liberties in
Hampton Roads. Ratione cujus, as we lawyers
say, it was thought prudent to call into immediate
service some of the most efficient of the military force
of the country; and, accordingly, up came an order
addressed to me, commanding me to repair with my
men, as speedily as possible, to the neighbourhood of
Craney Island. This summons operated like an
electric shock. It was the first real flavour of gun-powder
men behave better. It became my duty to take instant
measures to meet the emergency. In the first
place, I ordered a meeting of the troop at the Court
House;—for I was resolved to do things coolly.”
“You are mistaken, Mr. Wart,” said Harvey,
“in the order of your movements; the first thing
that you did was to put on your new buckskin
breeches.”
“Nonsense!” said the counsellor; “I called the
meeting at the Court House, directing every man to
be there in full equipment.”
“And you sent forthwith to Richmond,” interrupted
Hazard, “for a white plume three feet long.”
“Now, gentlemen!” said Philly, imploringly, “one
at a time! if you wish to hear me out, let me go on.
Well, sir, the men met in complete order. Harry
Davenport, (you remember him, Mr. Meriwether, a
levil-may-care sort of a fellow, a perfect walking
nuisance in time of peace, an indictable offence going
at large!) he was my orderly, and the very best,
I suppose, in Virginia. I furnished Harry (it was
entirely a thought of my own) with a halbert, the
shaft twelve feet long, and pointed with a foot of polished
iron. As soon as I put this into his hands, the
fellow set up one of his horse-laughs, and galloped
about the square like a wild Cossack.”
“I should think,” said Meriwether, “that one of
our countrymen would scarcely know what to do
with a pole twelve feet long, after he had got into
his saddle: however, I take it for granted you had
good reason for what you did.”
“The Polish lancers,” replied Philly, “produced
a terrible impression with a weapon somewhat similar.”
“No matter,” said Ned, “about the Polish lancers;
let us get upon our campaign.”
“Well,” continued Mr. Wart, “I thought it
would not be amiss, before we started, to animate
and encourage my fellows with a speech. So, I
drew them up in a hollow square, and gave them a
flourish that set them half crazy.”
“That was just the way with Tyrtæus before
Ithome!” exclaimed Mr. Chub, with great exultation,
from the opposite side of the table. “I should
like to have heard Mr. Wart exhorting his men!”
“I will tell you exactly what he said, for I was
there at the time,” said Ned Hazard; “Follow me,
my brave boys! the eyes of the world are upon you;
keep yours upon my white plume, and let that be
your rallying point!”
“Pish!” cried Philly, turning round and showing
his black teeth with a good-natured, half-tipsy grin,
“I said no such thing. I told them, what it was
my duty to tell them, that we had joined issue with
the British Government, and had come to the ultima
ratio; and that we must now make up our minds to
die on the field of our country's honour, rather than
see her soil polluted with the footsteps of an invader;
that an enemy was at our door, threatening
our firesides.”
“You told them,” interrupted Hazard again,
“that the next morning's sun might find them stark
and stiff and gory, on the dew-besprinkled sod. I can
yesterday.”
“I might have said something like that,” replied
Philly, “by way of encouragement to the men.
However, this you recollect well enough, Ned,
that there was not a man in the corps whose mind
was not as perfectly made up to die as to eat his
dinner.”
“All, except old Shakebag the tavernkeeper,”
said Ned, “and he was short-winded and pursy,
and might be excused for preferring his dinner.”
“I except him,” replied Mr. Wart, and then proceeded
with his narrative. “As soon as I had finished
my address, I dissolved the square, and instantly took
up the line of march.”
“You should say rather that you took up the
charge,” said Ned, “for you went out of the village
in line, at full speed, with swords brandishing above
your heads. You led the way, with Harry Davenport
close at your heels, thrusting his long lance
right at the seat of your yellow buckskins, and shouting
like a savage.”
“What was that for?” I asked with some astonishment.
“Ned puts a colouring on it,” replied the counsellor;
“I did go out from the court house at a charge,
but there was no brandishing of swords; we carry
our swords, Mr. Littleton, in the charge, at arm's
length, the blade being extended horizontally exactly
parallel with the line of the eyes. I did this to
give the men courage.”
“How near was the enemy at this time?” I inquired.
“They had not landed,” answered Ned gravely,
“but were expected to land at Craney Island, about
one hundred miles off.”
Here was a shout of applause from the table.
“I can tell you what,” said Mr. Wart, for he
was too much flustered to take any thing in joke that
passed, “there is no time so important in a campaign
as when an army first breaks ground. If you
can keep your men in heart at the starting point,
you may make them do what you please afterwards.”
“That's true!” said Mr. Chub, who had evinced
great interest in Philly's narrative from the beginning,
and was even more impervious than the lawyer
himself to the waggery of the table. “Cyrus
would never have persuaded the Greeks to march
with him to Babylon, if he had not made them believe
that they were going only against the Pisidians.
Such stratagems are considered lawful in war. It
was a masterly thing in my opinion, this device of
Mr. Wart's.”
“Had you severe service?” asked Meriwether.
“Tolerably severe,” replied Philly, “while it lasted.
It rained upon us nearly the whole way from
here to Norfolk, and there was a good deal of ague
and fever in the country at that time, which we ran
great risk of taking, because we were obliged to
keep up a guard night and day.”
“You had an engagement I think I have heard?”
said I.
“Pretty nearly the same thing,” answered Mr.
Wart. “The enemy never landed whilst I remained,
except, I believe, to get some pigs and fowls
on Craney Island: but we had frequent alarms,
and several times were drawn up in line of battle,
which is more trying to men, Mr. Littleton, than actual
fighting. It gave me a good opportunity to see
what my fellows were made of. Harry Davenport
was a perfect powder-magazine. The rascal wanted
us one night to swim our horses over to the Island.
Gad, I believe he would have gone by himself if I
hadn't forbidden him!”
“Your campaign lasted some time?” said I.
“About a week,” replied Philly. “No, I am mistaken,
it was rather more, for it took us three days
to return home: And such a set of madcaps as we
had all the way back to the court house! Nothing
but scrub races the whole distance!”
“Now,” said Harvey Riggs, looking at Mr. Wart
with a face of sly raillery, “now that you have got
through this celebrated campaign, tell us how many
men you had.”
“Seven rank and file,” said Ned, answering for
him.
“Fiddle-de-dee!” exclaimed Mr. Wart. “I had
twenty!”
“On your honour, as a trooper?” cried Ned.
“On my voir dire,” said Philly, hesitating.—“I
had nine in uniform, and I forget how many
were not in uniform,—because I didn't allow these
fellows to go with us; but they had very good
horseback, strung out in Indian file, make a very
formidable display!”
“Well, it was a very gallant thing, take it altogether,”
said Harvey. “So, gentlemen, fill your
glasses. Here's to Captain Wart of the Invincible
Blues, the genuine representative of the chivalry of
the Old Dominion!”
As the feast drew to a close, the graver members
of the party stole off to the drawing-room, leaving
behind them that happy remnant which may be
called the sifted wheat of the stack. There sat Harvey
Riggs, with his broad, laughing face mellowed
by wine and good cheer, and with an eye rendered
kindly by long shining on merry meetings, lolling
with the heel of his boot across the corner of the table,
whilst he urged the potations like a seasoned
man, and a thirsty. And there sat Meriwether, abstemious
but mirthful, with a face and heart brimful
of benevolence; beside him, the inimitable original
Philly Wart. And there, too, was seen the jolly
parson, priestlike even over his cups, filled with wonder
and joy to see the tide of mirth run so in the
flood; ever and anon turning, with bewildered
eagerness, from one to another of his compotators,
in doubt as to which pleased him most. And there,
too, above all, was Ned Hazard, an imp of laughter,
with his left arm dangling over the back of his chair,
and his right lifting up his replenished glass on high,
to catch its sparkling beams in the light; his head
tossed negligently back upon his shoulder; and
puff, that richer essence than incense of Araby:
His dog Wilful, too, privileged as himself, with
his faithful face recumbent between his master's
knees.
Such are the images that still gladden the old-fashioned
wassail of Virginia.
| CHAPTER V.
THE DINNER TABLE. Swallow Barn, or A sojourn in the Old Dominion | |