CHAPTER XIV.
"Intent to blend her with his lot, Fate formed her all that he was not; And, as by mere unlikeness thought, Associate we see, Their hearts, from very difference, caught A perfect sympathy."--PINCKNEY.
All this time I saw Ursula Malbone daily, and at all hours of the day.Inmates of the same dwelling, we met constantly, and many were theinterviews and conversations which took place between us. Had Dus beenthe most finished coquette in existence, her practised ingenuity couldnot have devised more happy expedients to awaken interest in me thanthose which were really put in use by this singular girl, without theslightest intention of bringing about any such result. Indeed, it wasthe nature, the total absence of art, that formed one of the brightestattractions of her character, and gave so keen a zest to her clevernessand beauty. In that day, females, while busied in the affairs of theirhousehold, appeared in "short gown and petticoat," as it was termed, aspecies of livery that even ladies often assumed of a morning. The_toilette_ was of far wider range in 1784 than it is now, thedistinctions between morning and evening dress being much broader thenthan at present. As soon as she was placed really at the head of herbrother's house, Ursula Malbone set about the duties of her new stationquietly and without the slightest fuss, but actively and with interest.She seemed to me to possess, in a high degree, that particular merit ofcarrying on the details of her office in a silent, unobtrusive manner,while they were performed most effectually, and entirely to the comfortof those for whose benefit her care was exercised. I am not one of thosedomestic canters who fancy a woman, in order to make a good wife, needsbe a drudge, and possess the knowledge of a cook or a laundress; but itis certainly of great importance that she have the faculty of presidingover her family with intelligence, and an attention that is suited toher means of expenditure. Most of all it is important that she know howto govern without being seen or heard.
The wife of an educated man should be an educated woman: one fit to behis associate, qualified to mingle her tastes with his own, to exchangeideas, and otherwise to be his companion, in an intellectual sense.These are the higher requisites; a gentleman accepting the minorqualifications as so many extra advantages, if kept within their properlimits; but as positive disadvantages if they interfere with, or in anymanner mar the manners, temper, or mental improvement of the woman whomhe has chosen as his wife, and not as his domestic. Some sacrifices maybe necessary in those cases in which cultivation exists without asufficiency of means; but even then, it is seldom indeed that a woman ofthe proper qualities may not be prevented from sinking to the level of amenial. As for the cant of the newspapers on such subjects, it usuallycomes from those whose homes are mere places for "board and lodging."
The address with which Dus discharged all the functions of her newstation, while she avoided those that were unseemly and out of place,charmed me almost as much as her spirit, character, and beauty. Thenegroes removed all necessity for her descending to absolute toil; andwith what pretty, feminine dexterity did she perform the duties thatproperly belonged to her station! Always cheerful, frequently singing,not in a noisy, milkmaid mood, but at those moments when she might fancyherself unheard, and in sweet, plaintive songs that seemed to recall thescenes of other days. Always cheerful, however, is saying a little toomuch; for occasionally, Dus was sad. I found her in tears three or fourtimes, but did not dare inquire into their cause. There was scarce,time, indeed; for the instant I appeared, she dried her eyes, andreceived me with smiles.
It is scarcely necessary to say that to me the time passed pleasantly,and amazingly fast. Chainbearer remained at the 'Nest by my orders, forhe would not yield to requests; and I do not remember a more delightfulmonth than that proved to be. I made a very general acquaintance with mytenants, and found many of them as straightforward, honest, hard-workingyeomen as one could wish to meet. My brother major, in particular, was ahearty old fellow, and often came to see me, living on the farm thatadjoined my own. He growled a little about the sect that had gotpossession of the "meetin'-us," but did it in a way to show there wasnot much gall in his own temperament.
"I don't rightly understand these majority matters," said the oldfellow, one day that we were talking the matter over, "though I verywell know Newcome always manages to get one, let the folks think as theywill. I've known the 'squire contrive to cut a majority out of about afourth of all present, and he does it in a way that is desp'retingen'ous, I will allow, though I'm afeard it's neither law nor gospel."
"He certainly managed, in the affair of the denomination, to make aplurality of one appear in the end to be a very handsome majority overall."
"Ay, there's twists and turns in these things that's beyond my l'arnin',though I s'pose all's right. It don't matter much in the long run, a'terall, where a man worships, provided he worships; or who preaches, sothat he listens."
I think this liberality--if that be the proper word--in religiousmatters, is fast increasing among us; though liberality may be butanother term for indifference. As for us Episcopalians, I wonder thereare any left in the country, though we are largely on the increase.There we were, a church that insisted on Episcopal ministrations--onconfirmation in particular--left for a century without a bishop, andunable to conform to practices that it was insisted on were essential,and this solely because it did not suit the policy of the mother countryto grant us prelates of our own, or to send us, occasionally even, oneof hers! How miserable do human expedients often appear when they aretried by the tests of common sense! A church of God, insisting oncertain spiritual essentials that it denies to a portion of its people,in order to conciliate worldly interests! It is not the Church ofEngland, however, nor the Government of England, that is justlyobnoxious to such an accusation; something equally bad and just asinconsistent, attaching itself to the ecclesiastical influence of everyother system in Christendom under which the state is tied to religion bymeans of human provisions. The mistake is in connecting the things ofthe world with the things that are of God.
Alas! alas! When you sever that pernicious tie, is the matter muchbenefited? How is it among ourselves? Are not sects, and shades ofsects, springing up among us on every side, until the struggle betweenparsons is getting to be not who shall aid in making most Christians,but who shall gather into his fold most sectarians? As for the peoplethemselves, instead of regarding churches, even after they haveestablished them, and that too very much on their own authority, theyfirst consider their own tastes, enmities, and predilections, respectingthe priest far more than the altar, and set themselves up as a sort ofreligious constituencies, who are to be _represented_ directly in thegovernment of Christ's followers on earth. Half of a parish will fly offin a passion to another denomination if they happen to fall into aminority. Truly, a large portion of our people is beginning to act inthis matter as if they had a sense of "giving their support" to theDeity, patronizing him in this temple or the other, as may suit thefeeling or the interest of the moment.[12]
[Footnote 12: If Mr. Littlepage wrote thus, thirty or forty years since,how would he have written to-day, when we have had loud protestationsflourishing around us in the public journals, that this or thatsectarian polity was most in unison with a republican form ofgovernment? What renders this assumption as absurd as it is presuming,is the well-known fact that it comes from those who have ever beenloudest in their declamations of a union between church and state!]
But I am not writing homilies, and will return to the 'Nest and myfriends. A day or two after Mr. Newcome received his new lease,Chainbearer, Frank, Dus and I were in the little arbor that overlookedthe meadows, when we saw Sureflint, moving at an Indian's pace, along apath that came out of the forest, and which was known to lead towardMooseridge. The Onondago carried his rifle as usual, and bore on hisback a large bunch of something that we supposed to be game, though thedistance prevented our discerning its precise character. In half aminute he disappeared behind a projection of the cliffs, trotting towardthe buildings.
"My fr
iend the Trackless has been absent from us now a longer time thanusual," Ursula remarked, as she turned her head from following theIndian's movements, as long as he remained in sight; "but he reappearsloaded with something for our benefit."
"He has passed most of his time of late with your uncle, I believe," Ianswered, following Dus's fine eyes with my own, the pleasantest pursuitI could discover in that remote quarter of the world. "I have writtenthis to my father, who will be glad to hear tidings of his old friend."
"He is much with my uncle as you say, being greatly attached to him. Ah!here he comes, with such a load on his shoulders as an Indian does notlove to bear; though even a chief will condescend to carry game."
As Dus ceased speaking, Sureflint threw a large bunch of pigeons, sometwo or three dozen birds, at her feet, turning away quietly, like onewho had done his part of the work, and who left the remainder to bemanaged by the squaws.
"Thank you, Trackless," said the pretty housekeeper--"thank'ee kindly.Those are beautiful birds, and as fat as butter. We shall have themcleaned, and cooked in all manner of ways."
"All squab--just go to fly--take him ebbery one in nest," answered theIndian.
"Nests must be plenty, then, and I should like to visit them," I cried,remembering to have heard strange marvels of the multitudes of pigeonsthat were frequently found in their "roosts," as the encampments theymade in the woods were often termed in the parlance of the country. "Canwe not go in a body and visit this roost?"
"It might pe tone," answered the Chainbearer; "it might pe tone, and itis time we wast moving in t'eir tirection, if more lant is to pesurveyet, ant t'ese pirts came from t'e hill I suppose t'ey do.Mooseridge promiset to have plenty of pigeons t'is season."
"Just so," answered Sureflint. "Million, t'ousan', hundred--more too.Nebber see more; nebber see so many. Great Spirit don't forget poorInjin; sometime give him deer--sometime salmon--sometime pigeon--plentyfor ebberybody; only t'ink so."
"Ay, Sureflint; only t'ink so, inteet, and t'ere is enough for us all,and plenty to spare. Got is pountiful to us, put we ton't often know howto use his pounty," answered Chainbearer, who had been examining thebirds. "Finer squaps arn't often met wit'; and I too shoult likeamazingly to see one more roost pefore I go to roost myself."
"As for the visit to the roost," cried I, "that is settled forto-morrow. But a man who has just come out of a war like the last, intopeaceable times, has no occasion to speak of his end, Chainbearer. Yourare old in years, but young in mind, as well as body."
"Bot' nearly wore out--bot' nearly wore out! It is well to tell an oltfool t'e contrary, put I know petter. T'ree-score and ten is man's time,and I haf fillet up t'e numper of my tays. Got knows pest, when it wiltpe his own pleasure to call me away; put, let it come when it will, Ishall now tie happy, comparet wit' what I shoult haf tone a mont' ago."
"You surprise me, my dear friend! What has happened to make thisdifference in your feelings? It cannot be that you are changed in anyessential."
"T'e tifference is in Dus's prospects. Now Frank has a goot place, mygal will not pe forsaken."
"Forsaken! Dus--Ursula--Miss Malbone forsaken! _That_ could neverhappen, Andries, Frank or no Frank."
"I hope not--I hope not, lat--put t'e gal pegins to weep, and we'll talkno more apout it. Harkee, Susquesus; my olt frient, can you guite us tot'is roost?"
"Why no do it, eh? Path wide--open whole way. Plain as river."
"Well, t'en, we wilt all pe off for t'e place in t'e morning. My newassistant is near, and it is high time Frank and I hat gone into t'ewoots ag'in."
I heard this arrangement made, though my eyes were following Dus, whohad started from her seat, and rushed into the house, endeavoring tohide emotions that were not to be hushed. A minute later I saw her atthe window of her own room, smiling, though the cloud had not yetentirely dispersed.
Next morning early our whole party left the 'Nest for the hut atMooseride, and the pigeon-roosts. Dus and the black female servanttravelled on horseback, there being no want of cattle at the 'Nest,where, as I now learned, my grandfather had left a quarter of a centurybefore, among a variety of other articles, several side-saddles. Therest of us proceeded on foot, though we had no less than three sumpterbeasts to carry our food, instruments, clothes, etc. Each man was armed,almost as a matter of course in that day, though I carried adouble-barrelled fowling-piece, instead of a rifle. Susquesus acted asour guide.
We were quite an hour before we reached the limits of the settled farmson my own property; after which, we entered the virgin forest. Inconsequence of the late war, which had brought everything like thesettlement of the country to a dead stand, a new district had thenlittle of the straggling, suburb-like clearings, which are apt now toencircle the older portions of a region that is in the state oftransition. On the contrary, the last well-fenced and reasonablywell-cultivated farm passed, we plunged into the boundless woods, andtook a complete leave of nearly every vestige of civilized life, as oneenters the fields on quitting a town in France. There was a path, it istrue, following the line of blazed trees; but it was scarcely beaten,and was almost as illegible as a bad hand. Still, one accustomed to theforest had little difficulty in following it; and Susquesus would havehad none in finding his way, had there been no path at all. As for theChainbearer, he moved forward too, with the utmost precision andconfidence, the habit of running straight lines amid trees having givenhis eye an accuracy that almost equalled the species of instinct thatwas manifested by the Trackless himself, on such subjects.
This was a pleasant little journey, the depths of the forest renderingthe heats of the season as agreeable as was possible. We were four hoursin reaching the foot of the little mountain on which the birds had builttheir nests, where we halted to take some refreshments.
Little time is lost at meals in the forest, and we were soon ready toascend the hill. The horses were left with the blacks, Dus accompanyingus on foot. As we left the spring where we had halted, I offered her anarm to aid in the ascent; but she declined it, apparently much amusedthat it should have been offered.
"What I, a chainbearess!" she cried, laughing--"I, who have fairlywearied out Frank, and even made my uncle _feel_ tired, though he wouldnever _own_ it--I accept an arm to help me up a hill! You forget, MajorLittlepage, that the first ten years of my life were passed in a forest,and that a year's practice has brought back all my old habits, and mademe a girl of the woods again."
"I scarce know what to make of you, for you seem fitted for anysituation in which you may happen to be thrown." I answered, profitingby the circumstance that we were out of the hearing of our companions,who had all moved ahead, to utter more than I otherwise might venture tosay--"at one time I fancy you the daughter of one of my own tenants, atanother, the heiress of some ancient patroon."
Dus laughed again; then she blushed; and for the remainder of the shortascent, she remained silent. Short the ascent was, and we were soon onthe summit of the hill. So far from needing my assistance, Dus actuallyleft me behind, exerting herself in a way that brought her up at theside of the Trackless, who led our van. Whether this was done in orderto prove how completely she was a forest girl, or whether my words hadaroused those feelings that are apt to render a female impulsive, ismore than I can say even now; though I suspected at the time that thelatter sensations had quite as much to do with this extraordinaryactivity as the former. I was not far behind, however, and when ourparty came fairly upon the roost, the Trackless, Dus, and myself wereall close together.
I scarce know how to describe that remarkable scene. As we drew near tothe summit of the hill, pigeons began to be seen fluttering among thebranches over our heads, as individuals are met along the roads thatlead into the suburbs of a large town. We had probably seen a thousandbirds glancing around among the trees, before we came in view of theroost itself. The numbers increased as we drew nearer, and presently theforest was alive with them. The fluttering was incessant, and oftenstartling as we passed ahead, our march producing a m
ovement in theliving crowd that really became confounding. Every tree was literallycovered with nests, many having at least a thousand of these frailtenements on their branches, and shaded by the leaves. They oftentouched each other, a wonderful degree of order prevailing among thehundreds of thousands of families that were here assembled. The placehad the odor of a fowl-house, and squabs just fledged sufficiently totrust themselves in short flights, were fluttering around us in alldirections in tens of thousands. To these were to be added the parentsof the young race endeavoring to protect them, and guide them in a wayto escape harm. Although the birds rose as we approached, and the woodsjust around us seemed fairly alive with pigeons, our presence producedno general commotion; every one of the feathered throng appearing to beso much occupied with its own concerns, as to take little heed of thevisit of a party of strangers, though of a race usually so formidable totheir own. The masses moved before us precisely as a crowd of humanbeings yields to a pressure or a danger on any given point; the vacuumcreated by its passage filling in its rear, as the water of the oceanflows into the track of the keel.
The effect on most of us was confounding, and I can only compare thesensation produced on myself by the extraordinary tumult to that a manexperiences at finding himself suddenly placed in the midst of anexcited throng of human beings. The unnatural disregard of our personsmanifested by the birds greatly heightened the effect, and caused me tofeel as if some unearthly influence reigned in the place. It wasstrange, indeed, to be in a mob of the feathered race that scarceexhibited a consciousness of one's presence. The pigeons seemed a worldof themselves, and too much occupied with their own concerns to takeheed of matters that lay beyond them.
Not one of our party spoke for several minutes. Astonishment seemed tohold us all tongue-tied, and we moved slowly forward into the flutteringthrong, silent, absorbed, and full of admiration of the works of theCreator. It was not easy to hear each others' voices when we did speak,the incessant fluttering of wings filling the air. Nor were the birdssilent in other respects. The pigeon is not a noisy creature, but amillion crowded together on the summit of one hill, occupying a space ofless than a mile square, did not leave the forest in its ordinaryimpressive stillness. As we advanced, I offered my arm, almostunconsciously, again to Dus, and she took it with the same abstractedmanner as that in which it had been held forth for her acceptance. Inthis relation to each other we continued to follow the grave-lookingOnondago as he moved, still deeper and deeper, into the midst of thefluttering tumult.
At this instant there occurred an interruption that, I am ready enoughto confess, caused the blood to rush toward my own heart in a flood. Asfor Dus, she clung to me, as woman will cling to man, when he possessesher confidence, and she feels that she is insufficient for her ownsupport. Both hands were on my arm, and I felt that, unconsciously, herform was pressing closer to mine, in a manner she would have carefullyavoided in a moment of perfect self-possession. Nevertheless, I cannotsay that Dus was afraid. Her color was heightened, her charming eyeswere filled with a wonder that was not unmixed with curiosity, but herair was spirited in spite of a scene that might try the nerves of theboldest man. Sureflint and Chainbearer were alone totally unmoved; forthey had been at pigeons' roosts before, and knew what to expect. Tothem the wonders of the woods were no longer novel. Each stood leaningon his rifle and smiling at our evident astonishment. I am wrong; theIndian did not even smile: for that would have been an unusualindication of feeling for him to manifest; but he _did_ betray a sort ofcovert consciousness that the scene must be astounding to us. But I willendeavor to explain what it was that so largely increased the firsteffect of our visit.
While standing wondering at the extraordinary scene around us, a noisewas heard rising above that of the incessant fluttering, which I canonly liken to that of the trampling of thousands of horses on a beatenroad. This noise at first sounded distant, but it increased rapidly inproximity and power, until it came rolling in upon us, among thetree-tops, like a crash of thunder. The air was suddenly darkened, andthe place where we stood as sombre as a dusky twilight. At the sameinstant, all the pigeons near us, that had been on their nests, appearedto fall out of them, and the space immediately above our heads was atonce filled with birds. Chaos itself could hardly have representedgreater confusion, or a greater uproar. As for the birds, they nowseemed to disregard our presence entirely; possibly they could not seeus on account of their own numbers; for they fluttered in between Dusand myself, hitting us with their wings, and at times appearing as ifabout to bury us in avalanches of pigeons. Each of us caught one atleast in our hands, while Chainbearer and the Indian took them in somenumbers, letting one prisoner go as another was taken. In a word, weseemed to be in a world of pigeons. This part of the scene may havelasted a minute, when the space around us was suddenly cleared, thebirds glancing upward among the branches of the trees, disappearingamong the foliage. All this was the effect produced by the return of thefemale birds, which had been off at a distance, some twenty miles atleast, to feed on beechnuts, and which now assumed the places of themales on the nests; the latter taking a flight to get their meal intheir turn.
I have since had the curiosity to make a sort of an estimate of thenumber of the birds that must have come in upon the roost, in that, tous, memorable minute. Such a calculation, as a matter of course, must bevery vague, though one may get certain principles by estimating the sizeof a flock by the known rapidity of the flight, and other similar means;and I remember that Frank Malbone and myself supposed that a million ofbirds must have come in on that return, and as many departed! As thepigeon is a very voracious bird, the question is apt to present itself,where food is obtained for so many mouths; but, when we remember thevast extent of the American forests, this difficulty is at once met.Admitting that the colony we visited contained many millions of birds,and, counting old and young, I have no doubt it did, there was probablya fruit-bearing tree for each, within an hour's flight from that veryspot!
Such is the scale on which nature labors in the wilderness! I have seeninsects fluttering in the air at particular seasons, and at particularplaces, until they formed little clouds; a sight every one must havewitnessed on many occasions; and as those insects appear, on theirdiminished scale, so did the pigeons appear to us at the roost ofMooseridge. We passed an hour in the town of birds, finding our tonguesand our other faculties, as we became accustomed to our situation. In ashort time, even Dus grew as composed as at all comported with theexcitement natural to one in such a place; and we studied the habits ofthe pretty animals with a zest that I found so much the greater forstudying them in her company. At the end of the hour we left the hill,our departure producing no more sensation in that countless tribe ofpigeons than our arrival.
"It is a proof that numbers can change our natures," said Dus, as wedescended the little mountain. "Here have we been almost in contact withpigeons which would not have suffered us to come within a hundred feetof them, had they been in ordinary flocks, or as single birds. Is itthat numbers give them courage?"
"Confidence, rather. It is just so with men; who will exhibit anindifference in crowds that they rarely possess when alone. The sights,interruptions, and even dangers that will draw all our attention whenwith a few, often seem indifferent to us when in the tumult of a throngof fellow-creatures."
"What is meant by a panic in an army, then?"
"It is following the same law, making man subject to the impulses ofthose around him. If the impulse be onward, onward we go; if forretreat, we run like sheep. If occupied with ourselves as a body, wedisregard trifling interruptions, as these pigeons have just done in ourown case. Large bodies of animals, whether human or not, seem to becomesubject to certain general laws that increase the power of the wholeover the acts and feelings of any one or any few of their number."
"According to that rule, our new republican form of government ought tobe a very strong one; though I have heard many express their fears itwill be no government at all."
"Unles
s a miracle be wrought in our behalf, it will be the strongestgovernment in the world for certain purposes, and the weakest forothers. It professes a principle of self-preservation that is notenjoyed by other systems, since the people must revolt againstthemselves to overturn it; but, on the other hand, it will want theactive living principle of steady, consistent justice, since there willbe no independent power whose duty and whose interest it will be to seeit administered. The wisest man I ever knew has prophesied to me thatthis is the point on which our system will break down; rendering thecharacter, the person, and the property of the citizen insecure, andconsequently the institutions odious to those who once have loved them."
"I trust there is no danger of that!" said Dus, quickly.
"There is danger from everything that man controls. We have those amongus who preach the possible perfection of the human race, maintaining thegross delusion that men are what they are known to be, merely becausethey have been ill-governed; and a more dangerous theory, in my poorjudgment, cannot be broached."
"You think, then, that the theory is false?"
"Beyond a question; governments are oftener spoiled by men, than men bygovernments; though the last certainly have a marked influence oncharacter. The best government of which we know anything is that of theuniverse; and it is so, merely because it proceeds from a single will,that will being without blemish."
"Your despotic governments are said to be the very worst in the world."
"They are good or bad as they happen to be administered. The necessityof maintaining such governments by force renders them often oppressive;but a government of numbers may become more despotic than that of anindividual; since the people will, in some mode or other, always sustainthe oppressed as against the despot, but rarely, or never, as againstthemselves. You saw that those pigeons lost their instinct, under theimpulse given them by numbers. God forever protect me against thetyranny of numbers."
"But everybody says our system is admirable, and the best in the world;and even a despot's government is the government of a man."
"It is one of the effects of numbers that men shrink from speaking thetruth, when they find themselves opposed to large majorities. Asrespects self-rule, the colonies were ever freer than the mothercountry; and we are, as yet, merely pursuing our ancient practices,substituting allegiance to the confederation for allegiance to the king.The difference is not sufficiently material to produce early changes. Weare to wait until that which there is of new principles in our presentsystem shall have time to work radical changes, when we shall begin toascertain how much better we really are than our neighbors."[13]
[Footnote 13: At the time of which Mr. Mordaunt Littlepage is herespeaking, it was far less the fashion to extol the institutions than itis to-day. Men then openly wrote and spoke against them, while few dare,at the present time, point out faults that every person of intelligenceknows and feels to be defects. A few years since, when Jackson wasplaced in the White House, it was the fashion of Europe to predict thatwe had elevated a soldier to power, and that the government of thebayonet was at hand. This every intelligent American knew to be ranknonsense. The approach of the government of the bayonet among us, if itis ever to come, may be foreseen by the magnitude of popular abuses,against which force is the only remedy. Every well-wisher of the freedomthis country has hitherto enjoyed, should now look upon the populartendencies with distrust, as, whenever it is taken away, it will go astheir direct consequence; it being an inherent principle in the corruptnature of man to misuse all his privileges; even those connected withreligion itself. If history proves anything, it proves this.--EDITOR.]
Dus and I continued to converse on this subject until she got again intothe saddle. I was delighted with her good sense and intelligence, whichwere made apparent more in the pertinacity of her questions than by anypositive knowledge she had on such subjects, which usually have very fewattractions for young women. Nevertheless, Dus had an activity of mindand a readiness of perception that supplied many of the deficiencies ofeducation on these points; and I do not remember to have ever beenengaged in a political discussion from which I derived so muchsatisfaction. I must own, however, it is possible that the golden hairflying about a face that was just as ruddy as comported with thedelicacy of the sex, the rich mouth, the brilliant teeth, and thespirited and yet tender blue eyes, may have increased a wisdom that Ifound so remarkable.