University of Virginia Library

18. CHAPTER XVIII.
THE FIRST SHOT.

Peter Blodgit, flag-bearer from the enemy, was welcomed
at the entrance of the dwelling by Benny Bowlegs. He was
made to dismount and enter the house by the veteran negro,
much against his will. His demand was that some member of
the household should come out to him; but Benny at once repudiated
the suggestion with disgust.

“Wha' you talk 'bout, Pete Blodgit! You 'speck gemplemans
to come out yer and 'tan 'pon he legs to talk wid you, and
you poor buckrah a setting on you critter all de time? Lord
ha' massy, I tell maussa, de kurnel, sich a t'ing, he come out
wid de horsewhip. Git you down from you critter, Pete
Blodgit, and 'tretch you legs in de passage tell maussa is ready
to say — `Show de fellow in!'”

Like the servants of most of the lordly planters of that day,
Benny Bowlegs had but small esteem for the class whom he
described as “poor buckrah.” For Pete Blodgit, as a sample
of this class, in particular, his disgust and contempt was without
limit.

“Hitch you' critter to de tree, Pete Blodgit, and walk in.
Walk light, you ye'r, and not heabby, wid dem cow ledder
shoes o' yourn, for de kurnel likes a pusson to walk accordin'
to he character. Ef you walk heaby, he say — `Can't be dat
Pete Blodgit hab de imperdence to walk into my house as ef
he been somebody!'”

Pete was not the man to resent the scornful counsel thus received,
though he was not so obtuse as not to feel it. He knew
the sort of person with whom he had to deal, and his fears
served to subdue his resentment. He obeyed implicitly —
hitched his horse to the tree — the negro offering no assistance

— and, under Benny's escort, was walked into the basement
passage — not suffered to ascend into the portion of the building
which the family occupied. Here, after a few minutes' delay,
he was confronted, to his great surprise, by the major of
dragoons.

He thrust out his flag — a ragged handkerchief fastened to a
hickory rod — at the approach of Willie Sinclair, half doubting
all the while, that it would quite suffice for his protection. But
the tones of the major's voice reassured him.

“Well, Blodgit, what have you got there?”

“A flag, major. It's for my purtection, you know, as I'm a
a bearer of despatches.”

“Ah! you are rising in the world! Well, from whom do
you bear despatches?”

“From the men what's in the woods, major.”

“And who are they?”

“Well, thar's a dozen on 'em quite. You'll find their names
all to this dockyment.”

“Yes, but who do they represent? Is it a body of the military?”

“Yes, I reckon. They says so. They've got we'pons.”

“Are they British or Americans, Pete? Under which flag?”

Blodgit had not been duly tutored on this head. He was a
little disquieted by the query; but a rapid thought, which
taught him that, as Americans, the party would scarcely dare to
question Major Sinclair, instantly suggested the propriety of
reporting them on the other side.

“Well, major, I reckon they're sodgers of the king.”

“So! And you, then, have become a soldier of the king,
Pete Blodgit?”

“Lord presarve me, major, no! I ain't no sodger no how,
but a man of peace, and a lame pusson to boot. But they
forced me to come, major, when I didn't want to, and they
swore a most furrocious oath that ef I didn't they'd take my
ears off. So that's the how and the why that you sees me
hyar.”

The major readily received this statement as probable.

“Well, sir, and to whom are your despatches addressed?”

“Well, I reckon to the kurnel, sir, your father.”

“How can that be if they are soldiers of the king? My
father is a loyalist you know.”

“Ah! but they says he ain't.”

“Briefly, Pete Blodgit, these fellows are outlaws, and fight on
their own hook.”

“Well, major, I reckon that's pretty nigh the raal truth in
the matter.”

Sinclair was not the man to waste time in idle distinctions,
regarding such rapscallions as were represented by Pete Blodgit.
He knew quite as well as that worthy, the character of the sort
of people with whom he dealt; but his object in the dialogue
was to gain time. Hence his questions and remarks hitherto.
But he had another object when he asked the names and number
of the party in the woods.

“I reckon, major, there's nigh on to thirteen persons on
horseback.”

“Not counting yourself?”

“Oh! Lord, yes, sir. I aint to be counted at all. They
makes me do what I'm a-doing.”

“I can well believe it, my poor Pete. And now, my good
fellow, for their names.”

“Oh! I don't know 'em all, only some, but you'll read their
names on the dockyment.”

“Ah! did they all sign?”

“Yes, they did.”

“Let me see the paper.”

The bearer of despatches produced a dirty half sheet of that
brown wiry paper, which, in sheets of enormous size, was of
most common use in those periods, and the major read as
follows:—

Major Sinclair smiled quietly as he read the precious epistle.

“And you say, Blodgit, that there are thirteen of these rascals
in the woods?”

“Thar's the names.”

“Scoundrel! Do you dare to lie to me, when I know that
there are but seven of them — all told.”

“Lord bless you, major, but thar's thirteen as I'm a mortal
sinner.”

“Didn't you tell me that all signed. Here are only seven
names.”

“All that could sign, major. Some kaint write.”

The lie was prompt enough; but Sinclair knew that all such
would have surely made their marks, the object of the writers
being to impress the garrison with their strength and numbers.

“Back to your fellows, and tell them, from me, that we are
ready for them were they twice their number; and do you,
Blodgit, thank your stars that I do not have you hung up to a
swinging limb for bringing me such an impertinent paper.”

“Lord, major, I couldn't help myself.”

“I believe that; and did I not so believe — did I think you
came willingly, I should hang you up in five minutes. Be off
now while your skin is whole.”

“But, major, they're most mighty detarminate persons — all on
'em — mighty furrocious, and they've got rifles and muskets,
and three mighty furrocious dogs — you kaint stand up agin'
'em, with only one poor rifle and double barrel, and they'll not
let you git to close quarters.”

Sinclair was pleased that Blodgit noted his armory. The
weapons had been studiously put in sight — all, at least, that

our major desired he should see. He smiled at the speech of
the other — smiled scornfully — and extending his arm, he
said:—

“Be off, Master Blodgit; and if you'll take my counsel you'll
take the back track as soon as these rascals shall come on. You
have no taste for fighting, I know, and there are too many of
them to suffer you to share any of the plunder should they succeed.
Your share of the game will be its dangers only. Do not
suffer me to draw bead or blade upon you — off, and say to those
who sent you, that we shall welcome them with wagon-whips if
they venture within these grounds.”

Blodgit, with a cringing humility bowed himself out, and
under Benny's escort mounted his nag and departed, the speed
of his horse being accelerated by a smart application of a
hickory, which Benny Bowlegs carried in his hand, very much
as a field-marshal carries baton or truncheon.

“De mean son ob a skunk! And wha' is we for do now,
Mass Major.”

“Hither, Benny! Have you got the boys below?”

“All dere, sir, in de berry room wha' Debbil Dick leff.
Dere's Bull-Head Daby, and Slick Sam, and Snub-Nose Martin,
and Cæsar Fogle, and Barney de fiddler, and two, tree more.”

“Will they fight, Benny?”

“Ef you only le' 'em see you and yer you, jest when de time
come for knock about, den he'll fight.”

“We'll keep them then, for close quarters! We have one
gun, at least, for each quarter of the house, and pistols for half-a-dozen
men. Let us now to our preparations, Benny. Call
up Little Peter.”

Benny disappeared, and Willie Sinclair, muttering as he
went:—

“We must seem to consult the old man, at all events,” took
his way toward the apartment where the veteran was keeping
watch at the window he had undertaken to defend. Here, a
brief conference ensued between the two, in which the son made
a full report of what had taken place between himself and Blodgit,
showed the insolent despatch which he had brought, listened
patiently to the fierce outbreak of the old aristocrat as he read
the document, and then patiently brought him back to the subject

of the proposed defence. In doing this, our young major,
whom the war had made a politician as well as partisan, adroitly
insinuated into the old man's mind all the plans which he had
himself formed, for the encounter with the marauders. The
veteran was easily imposed upon, and the son left him at his
post while he arranged the defence of the house. The negroes
were each planted at his post, arms assigned them for close
quarters where they were not known to be good shots — and
few negroes are good shots — and this done, and Benny Bowlegs
and Little Peter, and another fellow, being armed with fowling
pieces or rifles, Willie Sinclair hurried up to the chamber for a
conference with his sisters.

The upper rooms of the house commanded an extensive view of
the whole scene of operations, broken only by occasional clumps
of wood, and masses of forest. Before it stretched the avenue,
a noble colonnade of oaks and cedars — on the right an open
field which had been planted in wheat, but which was now bare,
with here and there a pine sapling growing, three or four years
old. On the left of the avenue was the wood through which
“Debbil Dick” had already made his way, seeking a surer
cover in the thickets on the opposite side of the public road.
Immediately around the dwelling there was an open area of
less than twenty acres, the space only interrupted by kitchen
and out-houses. Below, and between the house and the woods
where the outlaws were now harbored, was the garden containing
some three acres, and near this, in fact adjoining, was the
poultry region — a spot which, at another time, might have
been sufficiently attractive to our outlaws. But for the ambitious
ideas of Dick of Tophet, the outlaws would probably have
been quite content with a general cleaning of the hen-roosts.

But to note all these parts of the enclosure required that the
four rooms of the upper story should all be occupied with vigilant
watchers. In each, accordingly, a negro or two, male or female,
was assigned a station. To these, no arms were given. The
weapons, whether at close quarters or long shot, being more
available from below, in the second story. The hand to hand
conflict could only take place below, in or around the basement,
or upon the outer steps of the dwelling. The doors opening
upon them were now closed, and a couple of sturdy negroes assigned

to each. For a close struggle the weapons were ample
against so small a force as threatened. In addition to swords
and pistols, there were knives — every negro carries his own,
adequate to slaughtering a steer or hog, or slitting the weasand
of a buck; — there were hatchets and clubs of hickory, and
even tongs and poker were put in convenient places, ready for
the hand-to-hand conflict.

“I have no notion that these things will be required, Carrie,”
said Willie Sinclair, “for I hardly think that these ruffians will
be bold enough to make an assault now that they know I am
here. Still, they are desperate men, and the thing is possible
— particularly if they have been drinking. As yet, too, their
chief leader, Devil Dick, has not appeared among them, and the
belief that he is still here and in custody, may work them up
to some audacious attempts. But I rather think that they will
confine themselves to long shots, and all of them, it is probable,
carry rifles. This requires that you should keep yourself and
Lottie away from the windows. The negroes can not be easily
seen, their black faces offering no such conspicuous contrast to the
darkened rooms, as yours and Lottie's would. Only see you that
the negroes do not neglect the watch. They can see an object
if moving, at thrice a rifle distance, and that will suffice to give
us time to guard against all approaches. Only do not be agitated
or alarmed. There is no great danger — none to you, my
dear, so long as Willie Sinclair can strike a stroke, or lift
an arm at all for your protection.”

“Do I not know it, Willie? As for the danger — look at
me, Willie. Do I show fear?”

“You are a brave girl — worthy to be a soldier's wife!
and — if you hear a trumpet, you may look boldly up the
avenue; for Peyre St. Julien will certainly be here before sundown.”

Then it was that the lips of the young girl trembled, and she
said, putting her hand on her brother's wrist: —

“But will he have his troop with him, Willie? Will the
outlaws not intercept him, and with their rifles, from under
cover—”

“Never fear! The sound of his bugle will be sufficient to
disperse them. Where's Lottie?”

“In the blue chamber.”

“Let us go to her. You must keep her with you all the
while. She may be tempted to show herself at the windows.
Lottie!”

The child came.

“Lie down here, Lottie. Cover up. Keep close, and don't
get up till sissy tells you. Will you lie down now for Brother
Willie, and cover up, and keep close, and don't show yourself
at the windows?”

“But Willie, I don't want to lie down. I don't want to sleep.
I want to hear. I won't go to the windows. I will sit down
with sissy. I know what you mean. There's going to be fighting
among the soldiers; and I can't lie down in the bed, Willie,
I can't, when there's to be fighting. I must sit up and hear;
but I promise you, dear bubber Willie, that I won't go nigh the
windows.”

“Let her sit with me, Willie. I'll answer for her. She shall
keep away from the windows. She has promised you.”

“To be sure, Willie — when I promise, you know.”

He kissed the child; Carrie threw her arms round his neck;
then released him, and he hurried below; and, passing from
room to room, he made all his preparations, and encouraged, by
his frequent presence, his motley forces.

One of these, our old acquaintance, Ben Bowlegs, he drew
aside from the rest.

“Ben,” said be, “I am going to put you in position elsewhere.
Take a pair of these pistols, and the short double-barelled
gun. Our true danger is from the kitchen. If these out-laws
make a rush and get behind it, they will cover any window
on this side of the house. You must get to the kitchen and
hide yourself in the loft. There are two little windows in the
back of it which will enable you to prevent them from taking
shelter in that quarter. You must steal out and make your
way thither at once, with the weapons I have mentioned. The
post is so important that I would go there myself, but that I
must not leave the house. I must see that the people do their
duty here.”

“Dat's sartinly de way, Major Willie. I bin t'ink 'bout de
kitchen, mese'f.”

“Quickly then, to your post, and before these fellows begin
to attack.”

“I gone, Major Willie! I gone!”

And, snatching up gun and pistols, Benny Bowlegs rapidly
darted across the space of thirty yards, which separated the
kitchen from the dwelling. Thus, with all his precautions
taken, our major of dragoons ascended to the place where the
veteran was keeping watch, seated comfortably in his arm-chair,
his game leg upon its cushions, and two great horseman's pistols
in his clutches, with both muzzles ready to give tongues at the
half-opened window. His position also enabled him to command
one of the doors opening upon the central passage.

“I am not sure, sir,” said the major, “that I have had quite
as much dinner as I desired.”

“Not the worse for it, Willie, if your man Porgy be right in
his philosophy. But the things are unremoved. Fall to, if you
think proper.”

“No! I find it not so easy to eat now. Still that mutton
was very fine.”

“Yes, but there is a proverb against cold mutton. Hack away
at that tongue, which I can warrant. It is home cured.”

“Ay, and of a quality to cure a man of absenteeism.”

“Would it could cure you, Willie!”

“It will not just now, sir. By the way, sir, my friend Porgy
insists that the English proverb against cold mutton is all a
mistake of taste; that mutton is really more preferable cold
than warm.”

“Egad, I should have ventured the opinion long ago myself,
but that I never take ground against a proverb. I shall certainly
be pleased to know this Porgy. Can he fight as well as
philosophize?”

“That is the most remarkable of his characteristics — somewhat
in the teeth of a proverb also. He fights like a bull-dog,
and in action almost seems to lap blood. But he always professes
a reluctance to go into action, and insists that nothing but
training has kept him all his life from showing a white feather.
Come, sir, let me fill you a glass of this Madeira.”

“Why not, Willie? I confess to relishing my wine more to-day,
than I have done any day within the last six months.”

“What! including the time of my Lord Rawdon's visit?”

“Ah!” with a deep sigh — “ah! no! That was an exception.
I confess, Willie, that on that occasion I distinctly saw the
`Bottle Reel.'”

“That was a serious error, my dear father,” said the son,
with a grave shake of the head, “in the case of so steady a
loyalist.”

“Get out, you varlet. Ha! — we are to have it.”

A wild scream from the woods, a shot, and the rattling of
glass in the upper windows, silenced the conversation, and our
major of dragoons was instantly upon the alert.