University of Virginia Library

11. CHAPTER XI.

The distance between the residence of Colonel Hammond
and the Highlands, was not more than some
five-and-twenty miles, and might easily have been
compassed in a summers' day by ordinary equestrians.
But neither the colonel or his squire were in the heyday
of youth, and their steeds would never have won
a heat at the Union course. They were a pair of
sleepy animals, somewhat better fed than taught; for,
being great pets of Mingo, they had been pampered,
stuffed, and curry-combed, till they grew as fat as an
alderman, and as sleek as moles. The colonel was a
short, square-built man, so that when mounted on his
broad-backed charger, his legs were utterly incapable
of spanning the wide circumference, but, on the contrary,
projected somewhat horizontally from the seat
of gravity. Mingo was a little, squat, native African,
black and shining as anthracite coal, and at the same
time deeply pitted with the smallpox. But he had the

advantage of the colonel in one particular, his legs,
being of the extreme order of bandy, so that when he
sat his horse, they fitted the animal's sides just as well
as his own ribs, and clung as close as a circingle.
Add to this, that the day, particularly the mid-day,
was somewhat sultry, and it will readily be imagined
that the progress of our adventurers was somewhat
slow and easy.

The journey was rendered more tedious by the absence
of all conversation, the military etiquette of the
colonel not permitting Mingo to approach within a
certain distance in the rear, which the latter, from
time immemorial, had been accustomed to ascertain,
by counting the lengths, as they are called, of the rail
fences by the roadside. Mingo, by this means, managed
to preserve his distance until they came to a long
stone wall, where he was observed to waver very materially,
and severely reprimanded accordingly. It is
well known to be the instinct of all gentlemen of colour
to fall asleep when they have nothing else to do,
and Mingo, after a ride of some ten or a dozen miles,
paid a visit to the land of Nod, according to the
custom of his ancestors. Thereupon, his steed, having
been used to amble side by side with his old
comrade in harness, incontinently gathered himself
together, and fidgeted up close beside the colonel,
greeting his old messmate with a significant chuckle
of welcome.

“Thunder and Mars! you old sinner, what business
have you here?” exclaimed the indignant continental.
Mingo replied not, except by a snort; other answer
made he none, for he continued to sleep like a top.

The indignation of the colonel kindled into a flame.
He invoked all his energies, and would have raised
himself in his stirrups, had not the oblique direction of
his legs forbid, in like manner with the furious knight
of La Mancha, when preparing to annihilate the
valiant Biscayner. He grasped his cane, which he
always rode with, and permitting the squire to precede
him a single step, planted a blow with such judicious
precision on his broad shoulders, that a cloud
of dust ascended therefrom, and he awoke, as if by
miracle, rubbing his eyes and twisting his body in a
very significant manner, exclaiming at the same
time—

“Hey! what de debbil dat?”

“I'll tell you what de debbil dat, you sleepy old varmint.
What business have you to come alongside of
me in this way, as if you were my equal, hey?”

“Why, massa, we all fightin for libbety and quality,
ant we? But howsomever, you let me talk, I no
sleep. Nigger mus do sumtin keep hisself awake.”

“You old rascal, didn't I order you to keep the
length of six rails in the rear?”

“Ees, massa, but dis dam stone fence—he bodder
me. I gwine to count stones, and den, ecod, massa,
nigger go fast 'sleep—dat's all. I no do so 'gin, caze
why, my back put me in mind, I reckon.”

“Very well—fall back in the rear, and march on,
you mutinous old rascal. If you come alongside again,
Thunder and Mars! I'll pay you over that stupid
woolly head, instead of your shoulders.”

Mingo gave his shoulders a sympathetic shake, fell
in the rear, and they again proceeded forward. It

was fortunate for the colonel that the country through
which they passed, was, in a great measure, destitute
of male inhabitants, or his colonial uniform might
have cost him a shot from behind a tree or a stone
wall. Occasionally they passed a house occupied by
women and children, the father and grown up sons
having gone to the wars; and whenever this happened,
there was an alarm that the red coats were coming,
for they were ever accustomed to associate the colour
of the colonel's waistcoat and breeches with the presence
of an enemy, and the leisurely pace of the old
continental induced a belief that he was at the head
of a party in the rear. Accordingly, the whole line
along the road was in a state of alarm; mothers
sought refuge in their accustomed hiding-places; children
vanished like shadows; while the ducks, pigs,
and chickens decamped from pure instinct. Such was
the feeling of the women of this region, in these lawless
times, when the sight of man, instead of inspiring
confidence, was too often the prelude to insult, violence,
and plunder.

Our travellers, betimes, approached the pass of
Pine's bridge, where was stationed a guard of republican
soldiers. The colonel stiffened himself, assumed
the perpendicular, and giving old Ti a thwack across
the ears with his cane, which caused him to shake his
head in disgust, trotted gallantly forward towards the
bridge. His appearance at a distance had puzzled
the officer of the guard, who mistook his scarlet waistcoat
and breeches for a full British uniform, and expected
every moment to see a party of the enemy following.
He accordingly ordered his men to be called

together by beat of drum, while the old continental,
turning to Mingo, exclaimed—

“Now, Mingo, you shall see. They are preparing
to receive me with military honours.”

As he planted his first hoof on the bridge, the officer
called out in a loud voice—

“Hollo, my friend, where are you bound?” at the
same time, his men pointed their guns in a significant
manner.

“Sing out, massa, or, ecod, dey shoot you,” said
Mingo.

“To head-quarters,” answered the colonel.

“Do you come with a flag?”

“No.”

“Have you a pass?”

“Thunder and Mars! don't you know my uniform?”

“Not I, faith. What corps do you belong to?”

“To the New York regiment of continentals, that
served in the old French war. My name is Hammond—Colonel
Hammond.”

“I don't know any such regiment, nor any such uniform.”

“Thunder and Mars! did you never hear of old
Ti?”

“Old Ti? Not I.”

“Why, where in the name of old Harry were you
born, and where have you lived?”

“No matter. What is your business at head-quarters?”

“None of your business, sir!”

“That won't do, old gentleman. You are without

a pass. Your uniform is half British, half American,
and you refuse to give any account of yourself. You
are my prisoner, sir, and I shall send you under a
guard to head-quarters. You may be a spy, for aught
I know.”

“A spy! Thunder and Mars!—a spy! I'll teach
you to insult as good a whig as the mother that bore
you, or any of your generation. Mingo, follow me!”

The old continental thereupon drew forth his trusty
and rusty sword, and pricking forward old Ti, while
he flourished his weapon, gallantly passed the officer,
who, seeing what an original he had to deal with, suffered
him to take his way while he stood shaking with
laughter. The guard, in like manner, at a signal from
the officer, respectfully opened for the colonel to pass,
so that, as he long afterwards was accustomed to
boast, he fairly carried the bridge sword in hand.

The officer, who had followed close in the rear, now
courteously addressed him, stating that his rank and
achievements forbade that he should be permitted to
travel with a single attendant through a district where
he was exposed to such unpleasant interruptions. He
therefore respectfully proffered the attendance of three
of his men, as a guard of honour, to head-quarters.
This he conceived to be the most peaceable mode of
disposing of one, whose appearance, conduct, and discourse,
buffled all his sagacity. Whether a humourist,
a madman, or a consummate deceiver, he could not
decide, and therefore adopted that mode of disposing
of his conqueror.

Thus honoured, the old continental pursued his journey
without further adventures, entertaining his escort

with his exploits at old Ti, occasionally regretting
that, like most of his compeers in arms, he was
now past serving his country, and lamenting, with
perfect simplicity, how unfortunate it was there were
so few good officers in the present continental army.
In the midst of these sage discourses, they arrived at
Peekskill, in the dusk of the evening, where the colonel
requested they might halt for the night, as he felt
somewhat fatigued with his exploit at the bridge, and
his pursy steeds could now scarcely put one foot before
the other. His wish was complied with, and, as
a special mark of honour, a sentinel kept guard all
night at the door of his chamber.

“You see, you old snow-ball,” said the colonel,
proudly, “you see I am somebody among soldiers,
though nobody at home. Thunder and Mars! a prophet
has no honour in his own country.”

Mingo grinned enormously at this sally, having sufficient
shrewdness to see through the whole affair;
but he held his tongue for fear of another application
to his shoulders. Early in the morning, they entered
the pass of the Highlands, and the colonel was conducted
by his guard of honour to the quarters of the
commander-in-chief.

Far be from us the presumption of attempting to
portray or caricature the face, person, and deportment
of the illustrious man, to whose presence the
colonel was now, at his earnest request, conducted.
The severe simplicity of his character—the natural,
unaffected dignity of his deportment—the beautiful
symmetry which blended all his great qualities and
virtues in one harmonious whole—while it constitutes

the perfection of our nature, will forever defy the presumption
of those who attempt to portray either his
person or his character. Washington was no hero of
romance, and his name associates but illy with fiction.
It is too sacred for such profanation; and he, of all the
great characters on record, least requires the aid of
the imagination to do justice to his fame. There is
scarcely a house in the land, where his picture is not
hung up to the contemplation of our children; there
is not a heart in the land that does not throb with
gratitude at the recollection of his name; and there
is not a page in the history of independent America,
written, or to be written, that will not in some way
or other, bear testimony to the benefits derived from
his services and his example. Let not the mists of
fiction gather around him, and change a consummate
man into a misshapen monster. Let him be enshrined
in the pure white mantle of truth, for truth alone can
do him justice.

Suffice it to say, the mission of the colonel ended
perfectly to his satisfaction. Under a pledge of profound
secrecy, the reason for which our readers will
readily comprehend, the object of our hero's disguise,
and the cause of his disappearance, were fully explained.
The colonel further learned that John was
now a prisoner, but where, and under what circumstances,
remained unknown, as since his capture, and
that of the person who met him at Spuyten Duyvel,
the difficulty of obtaining information from New York
had greatly increased. The general did full justice
to his ardour, intelligence, courage, and patriotism;
and the old continental, after dining at head-quarters,

and talking about Braddock's war, was dismissed under
a firm conviction that the goddess Rumour was no
better than an almanac.

He returned home without the necessity of again
carrying Pine's bridge sword in hand; astounded Jane
with the relation of that famous exploit, which he insisted
on before he would say a word of John; and
finally, gladdened her inmost soul by detailing the testimony
of the general. She acquiesced with lowly
humility in his imprisonment, for that might have an
end; but the brand of a traitor could never be effaced,
and though he might die under its stigma, he could
never live for her. For a time, her smiles and cheerfulness
returned; and when, on the return of spring,
the birds sung, the flowers bloomed, and the zephyrs
whispered among the green leaves, she could sympathise
in the joyousness of nature.