University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V.

Trumbull.

Considering ourselves now beyond the
reach of pursuit, we remained at the little
town where we had halted, for several days;
there we repaired our wardrobe and the loss
of my trunk; we purchased such other articles
as were necessary, and then re-commenced
our journey.

New and interesting to me were the various
prospects which presented as we passed
through different countries. Cities bustling
with their busy throngs; hamlets scattered
with cottages; almost boundless champaigns,

spotted with dearth and verdure;
immeasurable forests, echoing to the nightly
roar of savage beasts, prowling for prey; mighty
rivers, thundering to the distant ocean; lakes
of sea-like magnitude; stupendous mountains
crowned with unmelting snows, and based in
luxuriant vegetation, their majestic summits
towering into the sky, and frowning over the
warring atmospheric tempests which convulsed
the world below; magnificent ruins,
and yawning chasms, the ravages of time,
forgotten wars, or of ancient earthquakes;
and sometimes, at immense distance, rose the
volcanic eruption, flashing tremendous through
the long vista of night.

One day, as evening was setting in, we approached
a wide desert, through which the
road lay, bordered by towering hills and lofty
precipices. We hesitated whether to pass
such a dreary region at so late an hour.
While we were considering how to act, a
woodman with an axe upon his shoulder,
emerged from the forest; we inquired of him
its extent; “Six miles,” said he, “will bring
you to a good house of entertainment.” Recollecting
the last house we had passed to be
twelve or fifteen miles distant, and as we

should have moonlight for two or three hours,
we proceeded on.

The wilderness thickened as we advanced,
its deep gloom transiently enlightened by the
faint intercepted beams of a waxing moon.
Silence was only interrupted by the plaintive
breezes as they moaned among the branches,
the sound of a torrent rushing down some remote
declivity, except, at intervals, by the
distant barking of a fox, or the long, wild,
terrific howl of the mountain-wolf.

We began to grow uneasy; instead of six,
we had travelled, as we judged, more than
twelve miles since we met the peasant at the
entrance of the wood, and yet no house of
entertainment, nor indeed any other house
appeared; on the contrary, the sullen umbrageousness
of the forest seemed to increase
at every step. Our anxiety augmented when
Bergher's repeater noted the hour of midnight,
and still no prospect of emerging from the
desert, though we must have advanced therein
upwards of twenty miles.

We at length descended into a deep valley;
the moon had sunk behind the hills, and left

us in thick darkness. Suddenly the horses
stopped; Bergher urged them forward, but
they refusing to proceed, he gave me the reins,
sprang out, and advancing towards them
saw a person holding them by the bridles;
at the same instant he was seized by three
stout fellows and hurried back to the carriage.
I uttered an involuntary shriek, bereaved of
my usual presence of mind by the suddenness
of the incident. “Villains!” exclaimed
Bergher, “release me immediately,” scarcely
knowing what he said.

“Not yet,” replied one of them; “get
thee silently into thy vehicle, and take care
of thy mate; but first reach us thy whinyard
and popguns, if thou hast any; thou wilt
now have no further use for them, as we shall
take the trouble of guarding and defending
thee.”

“Who has a right?”—demanded Bergher:
“by whose orders?”—while they secured his
sword.

“No speechifying,” interrupted the same
voice; “thou shalt know all in good time;
at present be silent and obey. Thou seest

that resistance would be vain, and complaint
useless; so climb thy cage and deliver thy
plumpers speedily, or thy tenement and appertenances
must undergo a search, which
might not be altogether agreeable.”

By this time we were surrounded by horse-men.
Bergher reseated himself in the carriage
and yielded his pistols; the fellow who
had been speaking entered also; “Please to
submit to a trifling operation,” said he, placing
masks upon our faces, which totally obstructed
our sight; after which, taking the reins and
whip, “I will do myself the honour of being
your postillion,” he continued; “but mark me,
if you make the least noise, or speak a single
word, I shall be under the necessity of decently
boring you through.” He then took his seat,
the carriage was turned about and driven back
upon the way we came, at a rapid pace, with
the guards around us, as we could perceive by
the trampling of their horses.

Conversant as I had been with difficulties,
dangers and disappointments, this last event
depressed my spirits beyond the prospect of
hope. The first thought that struck me, was
that we were in the power of banditti; but

had that been the ease they would have been
content with rifling, or at most with murdering
us. On reflection, it was evident to
my mind that our pursuers had discovered
and passed us while we rested at the little
town, had waylaid and surprised us, and that
we were now on our return to Vienna. To
be thus arrested, when we considered ourselves
safe, was doubly distressing. My soul
sickened at the idea, while in anticipation I
already experienced the contempt, the scoffs,
and sneers of my acquaintance; the triumphant
taunts of my stepmother, the wrath
and fury of my father, and the imprisonment
and execution of my husband, who now supported
me in his arms, as my heart palpitated
with terror and despair. Not a word was spoken;
all moved on with speed and in silence.

At length the carriage appeared to be rolling
over uneven grounds, and we could sometimes
hear the branches of trees sweeping
against it. Finally it halted, and orders
were given to alight; we obeyed, and were
led down a flight of steps, and through what
we judged to be a long winding passage, till
we were stopped by some obstruction which

we supposed to be a door. We soon heard the
tinkling of a bell, caused probably by some
one of our conductors pulling a wire; persons
apparently from within shortly removed
whatever impeded our progress, and we passed
on; our masks were then withdrawn,
when we found ourselves in a spacious apartment
illuminated by a number of glass lamps,
and decorated with furniture of various description.
There were about twenty persons
in the room, all dressed in full uniform, with
side arms. Others of the same description
were constantly entering. We were invited,
or rather ordered to take seats.

Within a few minutes a person entered
dressed in scarlet deeply laced with gold.
All heads were instantly uncovered, which
evinced him to be the chief. His appearance
was stately, his aspect naturally pleasing, but
artificially or habitually assuming fierceness;
his eye piercing and commanding. He bowed
to us politely, then continued to walk the
room with a grand and measured step. His
age we judged to be about forty. He only
was unarmed of the party.

We shortly saw our trunks brought in by
two of the gang; one, who seemed to have a
subordinate command, stepped up to us and
demanded the keys; these trunks contained
all our wealth, our money and my casket of
jewels; the keys were yielded, conscious that
remonstrance could be of no use. After examining
the trunks, “A booty by the great
Nimrod!” he exclaimed, locking them and
presenting the keys to the chieftain, who without
speaking or altering his course, deposited
them in his pocket.

The table was immediately spread, covered
with the most costly plate and the richest
dainties. We were urged to partake; Bergher
whispered me to comply, so we took our
stations among them; but I tasted of nothing.
Little was said during the repast;
once or twice some of them began to be boisterous,
but a nod from their leader instantly
silenced them.

Soon as the cloth was removed, fruit and
wine were placed upon the table; pouring out
a full glass, their chief drank, “Health to
the order of the mighty Nimrod!” They all
rose upon their feet, “And to our valiant

commander!” they cried with united voice,
filling and tossing off their glasses. Reseating
themselves they then drank as they pleased,
conversing separately with each other in low
voices.

The chief offered us each a glass, saying
to Bergher, as he presented them, “You
are travellers, I presume, Sir.”

“We were travellers, Sir,” returned
Bergher.

“True, Sir, true,” rejoined the other,
smiling; “you now consider yourselves my
prisoners, I suppose.”

“I know not what opinion to form.”

“Then believe yourself in the power of an
honourable man.”

“The event will determine that point,” replied
Bergher.

“Well, well,” said the chief, speaking
quick, “time is lost by parley. You know me
not; you know not where you are: who you

are I care not. We must use despatch; but
before we proceed to business I will give you
a slight sketch of my character. Such is my
custom when people of distinction fall into
my hands, and as you appear to be of that
class, you will hear me attentively. This I
do, not in extenuation of what by some may
be esteemed crime, but in justification, ample
justification (raising his voice) of my
own conduct.

“Know then, Sir, that I am a general, a
king, a commander in chief. Part of my
life-guard only have you seen. My troops
are scattered in various kingdoms; they are
stationed in the Tyrol, the Pyrenees, the
Alps, the Appenines; they traverse the forests
of Germany, Italy and France. I have
proclaimed war against the world for the very
defensible reason that the world first proclaimed
war against me: I fight, as every other
creature will do, for my own preservation.

“Born to a princely fortune, I was flattered
with princely expectations; the son
of a nobleman, nearly allied to a crowned

head.# My entrance upon life was brilliant;
splendid were my prospects. The fields of
fame, wealth and power, all that ambition
could wish were open before me. Beauty, too,
yes, beauty and the graces were approaching,
to soften and to crown my weightier joys—
Boy, bring more wine!” he exclaimed, pouring
out and turning off a large goblet.

“No imprudence of mine,” he continued,
“defeated my high-wrought anticipations;
the bloody quarrels of petty, avaricious tyrants;
the ravages of civil commotion, destroyed
them. [1] My family were butchered,
their wealth, their property seized, confiscated,
and I reduced to beggary. My
lovely, tender, sentimental friend, my solemnly
affianced bride, torn from my expecting
embrace, violated, and buried in a cloister.
Glory, domination, dignity, possessions, annihilated
in a moment. The blandishments of

delight, the ecstacies of love, just within the
fond pressure of my arms, ravished, snatched
from me for ever. Deserted by my friends,
those I had elevated to station and endowed
with riches now shunned me as they would
an aspic. In circles where adoration had been
rendered me, I was now received with the
upraised finger of scorn, or the cool, collected,
sneer of contempt.—Wine, ho! bring
more wine,” he cried, furiously stamping,
while lightnings flashed from his eyes.

“I know what the moralist would say on
the occasion,” he proceeded, after a short
pause; “for I was educated in the strictest
principles of morality; he would preach patience,
forbearance, honesty and virtue; but under
the then agitations and convulsions of my
mind, he might as well have preached them to
the hurricane. The world could not restore
what it had taken from me; still the world
owed me a support. From me, retributitive
justice was due to my despoilers; I took a
dreadful one! I attached to my side a few
Piedmontese, my native countrymen, who
had suffered in the same cause with me;
they were, therefore, friendless and poor, but
bold and determined: in one night we butchered

those who had butchered our friends.
We fled to the mountains, swore fealty to
each other, and instituted ourselves a fraternity
of foresters, entitled The order of Nimrod—Nimrod,
you know, was a mighty forester
and the first of our sect—I was instated
in the office of commander. Thousands
flocked to our standard, first of our own countrymen,
then of the surrounding states. Every
war, every political tumult, increases our
force. From the tyrant's sceptre, the debtor's
pursuit, from disappointment and adversity,
disgusted with the world, men fly to my
banners; by the troubled and conflicting state
of nations have I been particularly successful
in this respect, as we migrated from state to
state, and from kingdom to kingdom. Mountainous
countries and spacious forests are our
favourite resorts. We are now in a cave of the
mountain you must have seen on your right;
tomorrow night we may be fifty miles distant.
Our retreats are so constructed as to
defy search; our spies are out in every quarter;
the peasant you met on the verge of the
forest was one; to induce you to proceed he
deceived you; no sooner had you passed
than a horseman, concealed near, was des
patched to me. So you see we were prepared.
[2]

“Thus have I given you an abstract of
my history; and what think you of it? Injustice!
you will exclaim: yet are not the
measures I pursue more intrinsically, more
radically just, than those adopted by the

world? Lay aside prejudice; lay aside the
sinister, or what you would style popular, definitions
of your jurisprudence, and juridical
decisions, and judge. I levy my tax on the
rich only; you indiscriminately on rich and
poor. I fight for existence; you for honour,
profit, or fame. You esteem me a robber;
the miser who exacts usury, the dealer who
demands exorbitant profits, the sharper who
swindles you of your cash, the creditor who
under sanction of legal process seizes your
property, beggars your family, and deprives
you of liberty, are they not all robbers of a
more contemptible grade? Your laws demand
my life; they escape with impunity.

“In one point there is a similarity between
your monarchs and me: like them I make my
demands, and like them I enforce those demands
when resisted; like them I have my
battles, but unlike them I wish to prevent a
useless waste of blood, as you have experienced.
No one, unresisting, ever perished
by our hands. My orders are, not to attack,
unless attacked. Surprise is my mode. Our
prisoners are treated well and soon liberated.
We fear not discovery; such are our arrangements
that on signal we can disperse and secrete
ourselves in perfect security, yet the
sound of a horn will suddenly call thousands
to my side. To day we may be seen in
force within this forest; tomorrow not a remaining
trace or vestige of us can be perceived.
Parties have frequently been sent
in quest of us; sometimes we vanish to

our fastnesses; sometimes we meet, and vanquish
them. We neither sack, like your robbers,
nor conflagrate towns and villages; and
when we lay them under contribution we
readily compound for the money they can
raise.

“And what say you to my system? You
are silent. But you probably think I am
wasting your time and my own. Well: I
will then dismiss the subject; and now I will
show you my magnanimity; magnanimity
which you rarely experience in dealings with
your fellow-men. If by superior adroitness
they overreach you, they will not relinquish
the advantage for your benefit. I have told
you I am at war with the world, and
have briefly explained the equity of my
cause; you are therefore my adversary, because
you are a subject of the power with
whom I am in hostility. You are my prisoner;
your property, your life, are at my disposal:
still will I extend the hand of clemency.”

He then stepped to the trunks, unlocked
them, took out the money and spread it upon
the table. “Now observe my lenity and munificence,”
he resumed; “besides myself,

seventeen of my people were concerned in
your capture; yourself and lady make twenty.
The money shall be equally divided;
you shall have one tenth part, the remainder
is for me and my companions.” He then
carefully counted the money into ten equal
parts; after which, taking the casket of
jewels in his hand, “by the laws of war,” he
continued, “this valuable treasure belongs
wholly to me, but as a compliment to the lady
I present it to her. Your other articles
you will find safe; your carriage, your horses,
your weapons, shall be restored; you will be
suitably attended to the place where we found
you, and left to pursue your own course. Go
thou then back to the world, see if it will
treat thee better. Complain that thou hast
been captured, say plundered, if it please
thee, by the common enemy. Demand, as
thou hast a right to, compensation for thy
losses. If after all thou shouldst find, as I
have done, nothing but selfishness and ingratitude
in thy future connexions with man;
if, sick of thy wonted society, thou shouldst
wish to retire from it, return to me, enter my
service, and thou shalt receive the reward thy
merits may claim.”

He then took one part of the money and
the casket, deposited them in the trunks and
presented to us the keys. Immediately the
masks were replaced on our faces, we were
led out, seated in the chaise, escorted to the
place where we had been stopped, and the
masks taken off. One of the gang restored
Bergher his arms; the escort galloped away
and we resumed our route.

“Of what strange and singular materials,”
said Bergher, “is man compounded! In the
glowing vigour of youth he adventures on life,
his passions edged by the keenest ardour, his
soul strung to daring enterprize. Boundless
is the field of his contemplated achievements;
illimitable the sphere of his anticipated exertions.
But he reflects not on consequences; he
calculates not on disappointment, which, as
death, is certain. He drinks deeply of the
bitter cup, and like the infant from physic
turns with aversion from the offensive yet salutary
potion. Hence the enthusiast, the anchorite,
the misanthrope, and the marauder.
The character of the man in whose power we
have been, is an heterogeneous compound of
right and wrong, honour and dishonesty, candour
and hypocrisy. In society he was injured

by villains, and to obtain vengeance
became a villain himself; to chastise the vices
of a few he would inflict punishment on all.
The compunctions of early moral instruction
discompose him at times and then he endeavours
to palliate his crimes by sophistry his
conscience can never credit. He may with
propriety be styled a rational maniac.”

Though the loss of our property was severely
felt, yet so different was the result of
this adventure from our apprehensions,
that we bowed to an overruling Providence
in humble gratitude for our deliverance.
Even when we found ourselves among
robbers we experienced a mitigation of
our fears; it was preferable to being conducted
prisoners to Vienna. But when our
lives were preserved, and our liberties restored,
as also my casket and a small portion
of our treasure, our loss, on the general scale
of events, was at first but of minor consideration.

Day was appearing when we cleared the forest.
With mingled sensations of terror and
joy, I looked back upon the savage prospect,
where cliffs rose above cliffs, awful in dreary

splendour. From the dark bosom of the desert,
aspiring exhalations exhibited the rays of
an early sun in a thousand varying hues. We
continued our course, and without farther
disastrous accident arrived at Paris.

We took a house in a remote though populous
part of the city, furnished it decently,
and hired a man and woman servant. To accomplish
this I was obliged to part with some
of my jewels, as the little money the robbers
had left us was soon expended.

I understood the French nearly as well as
the German language; the English I had
studied as a science; Bergher was master of
all three, the latter being his national tongue.
We consulted which of these characters it
was best to assume, and finally agreed upon
the French. Bergher was therefore known to
the servants by the name of Mons. Bourgonville.

We determined to mingle as little in company
as possible, and for a season to make
few acquaintance; conscious however that
the open manners and free urbanity of the

French would not long permit us to remain
entirely secluded.

We had not long been settled when one
morning an officer of police was announced,
who being admitted, thus addressed himself:
“You will not think me officious,
Monsieur, when I inform you that our duty
compels us annually to visit each family in this
great city and report our investigation. Will
you do me the honour to give me your name?”

“Bourgonville, Monsieur,” answered
Bergher.

“But recently arrived in Paris, I presume?”

“Recently.”

“From whence, may I inquire?”

“From the frontiers.”

“I shall be proud of your acquaintance,
Monsieur Bourgonville,” said the officer; “I
will do myself the honour of sending you my

card of address.” He then politely withdrew.

This visit appeared singular; it might
however be a custom in Paris; still it gave
us some anxiety; but we were not long left
in suspense.

The same day just in the dusk of the
evening Bergher's man who had been out
returned and gave him a letter which he said
was handed to him by a person in the street,
with orders to deliver it immediately to
his master. It was directed “To Mons.
Bourgonville.” Supposing it must have come
from the police officer, he broke the seal and
read as follows:

“WILLIAM DRISCOL.”

Judge of our terror and surprise on reading
this note! No time was admitted for reflection
or hesitation. We called our servants,
told them we were going out and should
not return before eleven o'clock. We then
tied up a change of clothes in handkerchiefs,
took the money and jewels we had left and
departed a back way. Entering a narrow
street, we perceived several armed men advancing
towards us; we stepped into an
alley, they passed us and turned towards the
house; we doubted not but these were some
of the party, destined to arrest us, now proceeding
to their stations. The mail-coach
for Calais we knew departed at eight o'clock
that evening, which hour had nearly arrived.
We repaired to the stage-house, took seats in
the coach, and were soon rapidly receding
from the capital of France. When we reached
Calais the packet-boat for Dover was
about to sail; we took passage therein, entered
on board, and were shortly on our way
to England. The wind was high and the sea
rough; but the bellowing of the waves, the
roaring of the gale, and the tumultuous clamours
of the seamen, were music to my oppressed
soul, because they evinced that we
were now beyond the reach of our persecutors.

The scene to me was new, as I had never
before been at sea. The rolling and tumbling
of the vessel made me excessively sick. A
terrible tempest tossed us about through the
night, but in the morning we landed at Dover
without accident; from thence we journeyed
to London, determining to bury ourselves
beyond the reach of scrutiny in that
populous city.

We took a furnished room on a second
floor, in a by-street, and hired a servant.
The remainder of my jewels were turned into
money for present support or future emergency.
Economy was now our object, consequently
it became necessary that to preserve
our limited funds business must be sought.

In pursuit of this object Bergher applied
to a counting-house for a clerkship, which he
obtained at a weekly stipend. I undertook to
teach a few young misses drawing and embroidery.
By diligent attention we thus obtained
ample means for our subsistence, without
diminishing our slender funds. Bergher
now took his original family name of Barker.

Once more we were beginning to experience,
as we thought, an exemption from
present danger, and to enjoy common happiness
and contentment; when one evening as
Bergher was returning home from the duties of
his office, he saw a number of bills posted up at
the corners of streets and the public squares.
The agitations of his mind could be but feebly
portrayed when stepping up to one of them
he found the following to be its contents:

“1000 Guineas Reward,
“Will be given for the apprehension of
HERMAN BERGHER, late a colonel in the
Austrian service. From Vienna he was traced
to Paris, whence it is supposed he escaped to
England. Information will be received by the
Austrian Ambassador. Orders are issued by
this government that foreigners and strangers
of every description send their names and places
of residence to their respective legations within
ten days.” The advertisement concluded
with a very accurate description of the person
of Bergher.

Paralyzed for the moment by this sudden
and unexpected incident, we were at a loss
how to act. It was evident we were no longer

safe in England, probably not in Europe.
Ere the next sun arose, possibly before one
hour elapsed, we might be seized by the
agents of our adversaries. Bergher, skilful
in expedient and prompt in decision, proposed
our embarking for some distant country by
the first opportunity. The plan was no sooner
adopted than he went out, traversed the
quays, and found a ship which was to sail for
America the succeeding day. Once more,
therefore, we prepared to follow our adverse
fortunes; took passage, entered on board, and
by a short and pleasant voyage arrived at
Boston.

Our first consideration was to what we
should turn our attention. Our money was
principally wasted, and unless we could devise
some means to increase, or at least not
to draw upon our little remaining stock, it
would soon be all exhausted. We believed
ourselves now so far removed from the knowledge
of all former acquaintance as to be
completely out of the reach of danger from
that quarter.

Finally we hired a small house and shop in
one of the streets recommended for the purpose,

and commenced the business of purchasing
and retailing goods. But totally unacquainted
with trade and the habits of the
people, we obtained little custom. And
whether owing to the violent exertions of
body and keen distress of mind we had experienced,
to change of climate, or to other
causes, we both soon fell sick, first Bergher
and then myself: our business was consequently
suspended, and when we recovered,
after long and dangerous illness, the bills of
physicians and attendants, with a portion of
our rents which had become due, swept away
what little we had remaining; to add to the
dreariness of our situation, an uncommonly
severe winter was then setting in, with all its
connected horrors.

Now for the first time did we experience,
and bitterly too, the worth and the want of
property. The sums which in better days we
had squandered in trifles; the pittance we
had bestowed on mendicants; nay even the
fragments of my father's table, that which the
servants cast daily to the dogs, could they
have been permanently secured to us, we
should have esteemed competency if not affluence.

Still, strange as it may seem, we
were not unhappy.

I had a few valuable trinkets yet left, which
were the gift of my honoured mother; with
these I parted. Bergher also sold his gold
repeating watch, a pair of diamond shoe and
knee-buckles, and a set of gold buttons which
he cut from a dress-coat, replacing them with
others of little value. From these we raised
money sufficient to sustain us through the winter.
Of all the rich jewels my casket contained
when I left Vienna, I retained only a ring given
me by my mother on her death-bed, and this
I hope not to part with while I have life.

Spring with its reanimating influences arrived
at last, and the harbour of Boston was
soon crowded with merchant-ships from different
parts of the world. We contemplated
removing to some less expensive quarter of
the town, and to set up an inn or common
boarding-house. We had been one day to
examine a tenement which was offered us
for that purpose, when passing near the port
on our return, we lingered to observe the passengers
landing from a large ship which had,
just arrived. Among those who came on

shore our attention was fixed by one whose
dress and appearance evinced him to be of
superior rank. He was attended by servants
in livery, to whom he seemed giving some
directions; then turning, walked along the
street towards us. Approaching near, he suddenly
stopped and gazed at us with apparent
surprise. The astonishment was mutual; in
the stranger we immediately discovered the
brother of Count Hubert, he whom the Count
had selected as his second in the contemplated
interview with my brother, as previously
mentioned. Instantly we hurried from the
spot; he followed us slowly; we turned into
the first alley that presented and lost sight of
him.

We doubted not that he had come commissioned
and properly attended to arrest us.
That on seeing, he recognized us, his conduct
clearly evinced. Knowing therefore we were
in the town, his search would be scrutinizing
and persevering; consequently we could not
long remain undiscovered. Bergher, since
his arrival in this country, had reassumed his
proper name, and though his acquaintance in
town were few, yet in the street where we resided
he was known by the name of Bergher.

Little time was admitted for deliberation.
We must leave the place; but whither should
we go? What unknown part of the world
could conceal us? Would misfortune and calamity
never cease to afflict us, the evil genius
of adversity to haunt our steps? Were
our adversaries endowed with supernatural
powers? Could we evade their pursuit only
in the grave? Again must we fly from impending
danger, adventure on untried scenes,
desolate, friendless and poor, without even
object or aim except escape from implacable
and perilous destiny.

The period for which we hired the premises
we occupied had nearly expired. Mr.
Hammond, our landlord, was an auctioneer;
to him Bergher offered the sale of our household
furniture, which he agreed to purchase.
We reserved only a few articles. From the
avails, after deducting the rent due, he supplied
us with a small, light, single waggon
and a horse; the trifling balance remaining he
paid us in cash. Into this waggon we flung a
bed and a few utensils for cooking, then, with
an infant in my arms, we seated ourselves
therein and took our leave of Boston in the
dusk of the evening, journeying westward.

We travelled for several days, stopping only
for rest and refreshment. At a tavern on the
road we overtook a family removing, as they
said, into the new countries. This family
consisted of six persons, the parents and four
children; the man's name was Millard. He
had purchased a large tract of wild, but excellent
land, part of which he had cleared,
sowed several acres with wheat, built a log
house and barn, and was now going to settle
thereon.

“Perhaps,” said Millard to Bergher, “you
are a new settler also;” and our appearance
would well warrant the conjecture; “perhaps
you are new settlers: If so, and you
have not already made a purchase, I know
of no better part of the country than that
to which I am bound. Wild lands may
there be bought for half a dollar an acre, and
a long credit obtained for most part of the
purchase money. All you have to do is to
clear a few acres, build a log hut, get in a
crop of wheat, and if you can subsist the first
year you soon begin to thrive, and with prudence
cannot fail in time to become rich.
Every surplus bushel of wheat will purchase
an acre of land or its equivalent; by this

means you increase or stock your farm, or
pay labourers for clearing and improving it.
Soon by diligence and attention your own possessions
furnish you with all the necessaries
of life, some of its superfluities, and the means
of obtaining others; and besides, your lands
are every year rising in value. The new
country is the poor man's Canaan; to him it
is a land flowing with milk and honey. He
there finds not only a plentiful supply for
himself, but independence and affluence for
his children. The forest affords abundant
provender for his cattle, and in no small degree
comforts for his family; it abounds with
a variety of fruits, nuts, herbs and roots,
some of which possess in an eminent degree
a nutricious, others a medicinal quality;
acorns which fall from the oak in autumn
completely fatten his swine, and they require
no other feeding; then the maple is in itself
a treasure; from its trunk you extract a liquid
which by various process is transformed
into spirituous or fermented liquor, vinegar,
molasses, and the richest of sugars. The
birch tree affords a similar fluid, though much
inferior in quality.[3] In clearing the land we
obtain materials for building, firewood for
the winter, and even the ashes produced by
burning the useless wood and timber on the
grounds, are valuable for the potash-works.
The earth being fertile needs little tillage and
yields copiously. Indeed, the man whose
industry would scarcely procure him bread in
a cultivated country, soon acquires opulence
in a new settlement.”

Millard's glowing though plain description
of the new countries, induced Bergher to follow
his advice. With him therefore we travelled
till we came to this place, which ended
our journey.

It was then indeed a new country; a few
log cottages with a cleared field to each, were
the only marks of improvement; all the rest
was wilderness for many miles around.

We took up our abode with Millard for a
few days, who was agent for the land-holders
in these parts; of him Bergher purchased a
lot of one hundred acres of wild land. The
neighbouring farmers assisted in erecting a
log hut, into which we removed the third
week after our arrival.

Our first object was to clear a spot for a
garden, then a few acres for wheat. In this
also the neighbours generously lent their aid.[4]
The additional purchase of a single cow, a
team, farming utensils, necessary furniture,
and other indispensible articles, completely
exhausted our remaining funds, so that for
the ensuing year our crop of wheat was our
sole dependence; this proving bounteous,
enabled us merely to subsist, but for some
years we could do little more.

We were compelled to observe a course of
the strictest prudence and of the most arduous
industry. The necessaries of life are few
compared with its superfluities; to the former
we limited ourselves; nor were, even
they, at times, obtainable, in proportion to
our wants; frequently have we gone supperless
to bed, that our children might partake
of a scanty meal, consisting of wild fruits and
milk, or sometimes, only of boiled or roasted
potatoes. But our circumstances soon

grew better; our garden supplied us with
sauce; Indian corn, both in its green and
ripe state, afforded a healthy and agreeable
food, its meal excellent bread, which enabled
us to dispose of our wheat at market. The
rivers abounded with fish, the forests with
game, which, at certain seasons of the year,
plentifully furnished our tables. Vegetables
of various kinds were collected from the
spontaneous production of the fields. The
trunks of hollow trees, where bees had taken
up their residence, often gave us large quantities
of honey. But the maple yielded us not
only the delicacies of the Indies, but was also
a source of real profit, as scarcely a year
passed, but, from its sap, we manufactured a
considerable surplus quantity of sugar, which
always found a ready market at the adjacent
towns.[5]

Once in each winter we generally experienced
the novel sight of Indians, from the
different tribes in the west, passing through
our settlement, with furs and peltry, to the
seaport towns, for the purposes of trade:
And sometimes strolling parties of them
would take their residence and erect wigwams
in our neighbourhood, till they could
manufacture a number of splint brooms and

baskets, which they exchanged with the inhabitants
for provisions.

Economy, prudence, and industry, so necessasy
in commencing business with small
capitals, can nowhere be practised to greater
advantage than among the farmers of new
countries. The clearing of wild lands is an
arduous task, but the wood taken therefrom
may with care be made to pay nearly the expense.
That which will not answer for fencing

and other timber, is turned into coal for
the smiths, or reduced to ashes and manufactured
into potash. Even the smallest faggots
and brush-wood are thus of some consideration.
But no small source of profit consists
in what the farmers of this country call lumber,
such as staves, shingles, boards, &c.
which are purchased by shippers at the seaports,
from whence they are exported to the
different countries of Europe, and to the
Indies.

It was at the time, Miss Bloomfield, when
the experience of favours could not have been
more appropriate, that we became acquainted
with and were laid under obligations by your
family. Your worthy grandfather was then
a large holder of new and of some improved
lands in these parts, which he rented to us on
easy terms. He also assisted Bergher with
money to purchase Millard's estate, who removed
to another part of the country. After
the death of your grandfather some of
these lands devolved upon your aunt, who
continued the rent to Bergher, and finally appointed
him her agent and manager.

The preceding narrative, which contains a
brief sketch of the principal incidents hitherto
attendant on a variegated life, I had at different
times committed to paper, intending to
preserve it for the use and instruction of my
children after my decease. The arrival of
my brother, whom I really supposed dead,
enables me now to explain and elucidate some
incidents connected with the foregoing relation,
and thus to complete the history.

“A famous brigand, called Saint Rochetto, has lately
been arrested at Piedmont. He has been the chief and
creator of 16 bands of barbarians, or robbers, in the
Alps, of whom 306 have been executed. He never
had any fixed house, but he knew perfectly well the
Alps and all retreats in these mountains, and wherever
he went he had the talents to form new bands
and to inspire his fellows with the most violent hatred
against the French, of whom he acknowledged to
have killed with his own hands 120, and that his
comrades, during the last year, have by ambuscades
which he prepared, destroyed upwards of 1500 republicans.
The jealousy of one of his mistresses delivered
him up to St. Benigno. Memorials concerning
many of his transactions were found upon him, and
receipts from different priests and friars for 2,560,000
livres, which he had given to the churches and convents,
to have masses and prayers said for obtaining
the assistance of the Virgin Mary in his undertakings.
He had, besides, a list upon him of thirty persons
whom he intended to despatch this year, as soon as
possible, among whom were two Buonapartes, Vice-President
Melz, Generals Menou, Murat, St. Cyr,
&c. On his way to Turin he knocked out the brains of
a gens d' armes with his handcuffs, and bit off the
nose of another who attempted to tie his hands on his
back. He is a very strong man and his body is covered
over with hair, like a goat.”

The arrestation and execution of this chief did not
however disperse the gang. They raised up another
leader who assumed the name and title of General
Diable. Determining to avenge the death of Rochetto,
he attacked different parties of the French, and
often successfully, murdering all that fell into his
hands. Gen. Devil was at length slain, fighting at
the head of his band; the robbers were dispersed,
driven to the mountains, and finally hunted down, individually
and collectively. What few remained fled
to distant countries.

The method of preparing or manufacturing sugar
from the maple, is as follows: in the months of February
and March, when the weather is such as to
freeze in the night and thaw in the day, when the vital
juice of plants begins to circulate, and before the buds
swell, the trees are tapped, by boring several holes
diagonally into their trunks, about one fourth of an inch
diameter, three or four inches deep, from eighteen
to twenty inches apart, and from two to five feet from
the root; tubes, composed of wood or hollow weeds
are inserted in these holes, which serve to conduct
the sap into troughs prepared to receive it; nothing
more is necessary, but to strain and boil the sap to the
consistence of sugar, taking off the scum as the liquor
heats, before it boils, and carefully stirring it as it
grows thick to prevent it from burning. Brass boilers
or kettles make the best coloured sugar. The trees
will bear tapping every other year, and frequently every
year, if large and thrifty; they will yield from thirty
to one hundred gallons of sap, each, in a season; every
gallon of sap will make about four ounces of sugar.

In the spring of 1808, a farmer in the back settlements
of Massachusetts inserted twenty taps into one
tree on his own farm, by means of which he extracted
twenty-three gallons and three quarts of sap in one day,
which produced seven pounds and four ounces of sugar.
The whole quantity of sugar made from the same
tree that season, was thirty-three pounds, which according
to the above proportion, must have required
upwards of one hundred and eight gallons of sap.

The sap as drawn from the tree is an agreeable and
cooling beverage; by a fermentative process it makes a
very pleasant beer, which becoming stale produces vinegar;
boiled to a certain consistence it is excellent
molasses, which submitted to distillation, yields ardent
spirits of a rich taste and fine flavour; and when manufactured
with care, the sugar is inferior to none that we
import, and will bear refining as well. The writer
has seen Maple-Sugar which in texture, colour, and
taste, was equal to any he had ever met with manufactured
from the Cane.

During the American revolution, molasses, spirits,
and sugar, were made from the stalks of Indian corn,
by a process similar to that adopted with the Cane.—
Sugar has also been extracted from carrots, beets, and
some other roots and vegetables, but much inferior in
quality to that manufactured from the maple.