V.
THE LEGEND OF GUERNACHE.--Chap. III.
The Legend of Guernache is continued, showing how the Fortress of the Huguenots was destroyed, and what happened thereafter to Guernache the Musician.
The fidelity which Guernache had shown in the recent difficulty withthe Indians, did not appear to lessen in any degree the unfavorableimpressions which Capt. Albert had received of that worthy fellow.Indeed, the recent and remarkable service which he had rendered, bywhich, in all probability, the whole party had been preserved frommassacre, rather increased, if any thing, the hostile temper of hissuperior. The evil spirit still raged within the bosom of Capt. Albert,utterly baffling a judgment at no period of particular excellence, andblinding every honorable sentiment which might have distinguished himunder other influences. He was now doubly mortified, that he shouldbe supposed to owe his present safety to the person he had wronged--amortification which found due increase as he remembered how much greaterhad been the respect and deference of the savages for his drummer thanfor himself. This recollection was a perpetual goad to that workingmalice in his heart, which was already busied in devising schemes ofrevenge, which were to salve his hurts of pride and vanity, by thesufferings as well as humiliation of his subordinate. It will scarcelybe believed that, when fairly out of sight of the village of Audusta, herebuked Guernache sharply, for leaving the pinnace against his orders,and even spoke of punishing him for this disobedience.[12] But themurmurs of some of his officers, and, perhaps, a little lurkingsentiment of shame in his own bosom, prevented him from attempting anysuch disgraceful proceeding. But the feeling of hostility only rankledthe more because of its suppression, and he soon contrived to showGuernache and, indeed, everybody besides, that from that hour he was hismost bitter and unforgiving enemy, with a little and malignant spirit,he employed various petty arts, which a superior of a base nature mayreadily command on all occasions, by which to make the poor fellow feelhow completely he was at his mercy; and each day exposed him tosome little snare, or some stern caprice, by which Guernache becameinvoluntarily an offender. His tyrant subjected him to duties the mosttroublesome and humiliating, while denying, or stinting him of allthose privileges which were yet commonly accorded to his comrades. Butall this would have been as nothing to Guernache, if he had not beendenied permission to visit, as before, the hamlet of Audusta, where hisprincess dwelt. On the miserable pretext that the priesthood mightrevenge upon him the misconduct of Renaud, Albert insisted upon hisabstaining wholly from the Indian territories. But this pretencedeceived nobody, and nobody less than Guernache. Little did the pettytyrant of Fort Charles imagine that the object of his malice enjoyed apeculiar source of consolation for all these privations. His comradeswere his friends. They treated him with a warmth and kindness,studiously proportioned to the ill-treatment of his superior.They assisted him in the severer tasks which were allotted him tofulfil--gave him their company whenever this was possible, while he wasengaged in the execution of his most cheerless duties, and soothed hissorrows by the expression of their almost unanimous sympathies. Nordid they always withhold their bitter denunciations of the miserabledespotism under which he suffered, and which they feared. Dark hints ofremedy were spoken, brows frowned at the mention of the wrongs of theircompanion, and the head shaken ominously, when words of threateningsignificance were uttered--appealed gratefully to certain bitter desireswhich had taken root in the mind of the victim. But these sympathies,though grateful, were of small amount in comparison with anothersource of consolation, which contributed to sustain Guernache in histribulation. This was found in the secret companionship of his young andbeautiful Indian wife. Denied to see him at the village of Audusta, thefond and fearless woman determined to seek him at all hazards in his owndomain. She stole away secretly to the fortress of the Huguenots. Longand earnest was the watch which she maintained upon its portals, fromthe thickets of the neighboring wood. Here, vigilant as the sentinelthat momently expects his foe, she harbored close, in waiting for thebeloved one. Her quick instincts had already taught her the true causeof his denial, and of her disappointment; and her Indian lessons hadmade that concealment, which she now believed to be necessary to herpurpose, a part of the habitual policy of her people. She showed herselfto none of the people of the fortress. She suspected them all; shehad no faith but in the single one. And he, at length, came forth,unaccompanied, in the prosecution of an occasional labor--that ofcutting and procuring wood. She suffered him to make his way into theforests--to lose sight of the fortress, and, with a weary spirit anda wounded soul, to begin his lonely labors with the axe. Then did shesteal behind him, and beside him; and when he moaned aloud--supposingthat he had no auditor--how startling fell upon his ear the sweet, softwhisper of that precious voice which he had so lovingly learned todistinguish from all others. He turned with a gush of rapturous delight,and, weeping, she rushed into his arms, pouring forth, in a wild cry,upon his breast, the whole full volume of her warm, devoted heart!
[12] Charlevoix thus describes Captain Albert: "Le Commandant de Charles-Fort etoit un homme de main, et qui ne manquoit pas absolument de conduite, mais il etoit brutal jusqu'a la ferocite, et ne scavoit pas meme garder les bienseances........ Il punissoit les moindres fautes, and toujours avec exces, &c."--N. France, Liv. 1, p. 51.
That moment, in spite of all his fears, was amply compensative toGuernache for all his troubles. He forgot them all in the intensity ofhis new delights. And when Monaletta led him off from his tasks tothe umbrageous retreat in the deeper woods where her nights had beenrecently passed,--when she conducted him to the spot where her own handshad built a mystic bower for her own shelter--when she declared herpurpose still to occupy this retreat, in the solitude alone,--that shemight be ever near him, to behold him at a distance, herself unseen,when he came forth accompanied by others--to join him, to feel hisembrace, hear his words of love, and assist him in his labors when hecame forth unattended--when, speaking and promising thus, she lay uponthe poor fellow's bosom, looking up with tearful and bright eyes in hiswan and apprehensive countenance--then it was that he could forgethis tyrant--could lose his fears and sorrows in his love, and in theenjoyment of moments the most precious to his heart, forget all theaccompanying influences which might endanger his safety.
But necessity arose sternly between the two, and pointed to theexactions of duty. The tasks of Guernache were to be completed. Hisaxe was required to sound among the trees of the forest, and a certainnumber of pieces of timber were required by sunset at his hands. It wassurprising as it was sweet to behold the Indian woman as she assistedhim in his tasks. Her strength did not suffice for the severer toils ofthe wood-cutter, but she contrived a thousand modes for contributing tohis performances. Love lightens every labor, and invents a thousand artsby which to do so. Monaletta anticipated the wants of Guernache. Sheremoved the branches as he smote them, she threw the impediments fromhis way,--helped him to lift and turn the logs as each successive sidewas to be hewn. She brought him water, when he thirsted, from thespring. She spoke and sung to him in the most encouraging voice whenhe was weary. He was never weary when with her.
Guernache combatted her determination to remain in the neighborhoodof the fortress; but his objections were feebly urged, and she soonovercame them. He had not the courage to insist upon his argument, ashe had not the strength to resist the consolations which her presencebrought him. She soon succeeded in assuring him that there was little orno danger of detection by their enemy. She laughed at the idea of theFrenchmen discovering her place of concealment, surprising her in herprogress through the woods, or overtaking her in flight; and Guernacheknew enough of Indian subtlety readily to believe that the white was nomatch for the dusky race in the exercise of all those arts which aretaught by forest life. "But her loneliness and privation, exposed tothe season's changes, and growing melancholy in the absence from oldassociates?" But how could she be lonely, was her argument, when nearthe spot where he dwelt--when she could see and hear and
speak with himoccasionally? She wished no other communion. As for the exposure of herpresent abode, was it greater than that to which the wandering life ofthe red-man subjects his people at all seasons? The Indian woman isquite as much at home in the forest as the Indian warrior. She acquiresher resources of strength and dexterity in his company, and by theendurance of similar necessities and the employment of like exercises.She learns even in childhood to build her own green bower at night,to gather her own fuel, light her own fire, dress her own meat--nay,provide it; and, weaponed with bow, and javelin and arrow, bring downbuck or doe bounding at full speed through the wildest forests. Herskill and spirit are only not equal to those of the master by whomshe is taught, but she acquires his arts to a degree which makes hersometimes worthy to be lifted by the tribe from her own rank into his.Monaletta reminded Guernache of all these things. She had the mostconclusive and convincing methods of argument. She reassured him on allhis doubts, and, in truth, it was but too easy to do so. It was unhappyfor them both, as we shall see hereafter, that the selfish passion ofthe poor musician too readily reconciled him to a self-devotion on thepart of his wife, which subjected her to his own perils, and greatlytended to their increase. With the evil eye of Albert upon him, heshould have known that safety was impossible for him in the event oferror. And error was inevitable now, with the pleasant tempter so nearhis place of coventry. We must not wonder to discover now that Guernacheseldom sleeps within the limits of the fortress. At midnight, when allis dark and quiet, he leaps over the walls, those nights excepted whenit is his turn of duty to watch within. His secret is known to some ofhis comrades; but they are too entirely his friends to betray him to adespot who had, by this time, outraged the feelings of most of those whoremained under his command. Guernache was now enabled to bear up morefirmly than ever against the tyranny of Albert. His, indeed, werenights of happiness. How sweetly sped the weeks, in which, despite hispersecutions, he felt that he enjoyed a life of luxurious pleasures,such as few enjoy in any situation. His were the honest excitementsof a genuine passion, which, nourished by privation and solitude, andindulged in secresy, was of an intensity corresponding with the apparentdenial, and the real embarrassments of such a condition. His pleasureswere at once stolen and legitimate; the apprehension which attends theirpursuit giving a wild zest to their enjoyment; though, in the case ofGuernache, unlike that of most of those who indulge in stolen joys,they were honest, and left no cruel memories behind them.
It was the subject of a curious study and surprise to Captain Albert,that our musician was enabled to bear up against his tyranny with somuch equal firmness and forbearance. He watched the countenance ofGuernache, whenever they met, with a curious interest. By what secretresource of fortitude and hope was it that he could command so muchelasticity, exhibit so much cheerfulness, bear with so much meekness,and utter no complaint. He wondered that the irksome duties which hestudiously thrust upon him, and the frequently brutal language withwhich his performances were acknowledged, seemed to produce none of thecruel effects which he desired. His victim grew neither sad nor sullen.His violin still was heard resounding merrily at the instance of hiscomrades; and still his hearty, whole-souled laughter rang over theencampment, smiting ungraciously upon the senses of his basely-mindedchief. In vain did this despot study how to increase and frame newannoyances for his subordinate. His tyranny contrived daily some newmethod to make the poor fellow unhappy. But, consoled by the peculiarsecret which he possessed, of sympathy and comfort, the worthy drummerbore up cheerfully under his afflictions. He was resolved to waitpatiently the return of Ribault with the promised supplies for thecolony, and meanwhile to submit to his evil destiny without a murmur. Itwas always with a secret sense of triumph that he reminded himself ofthe near neighborhood of his joys, and he exulted in the success withwhich he could baffle nightly the malice of his superior. But, howeverdocile, the patience and forbearance of Guernache availed him little.They did not tend to mitigate the annoyances which he was constantlycompelled to endure. We are now to recall a portion of the precedingnarrative, and to remind our reader of the visit which Captain Albertpaid to the territories of Ouade, and the generous hospitalities of theKing thereof. Guernache had been one of the party, and the absenceof several days had been a serious loss to him in the delightfulintercourse with his dusky bride. He might naturally hope, after hisreturn from a journey so fatiguing, to be permitted a brief respite fromhis regular duties. But this was not according to the policy of hismalignant superior. Some hours were consumed after arriving at the fort,in disposing of the provisions which had been obtained. In this laborGuernache had been compelled to partake with others of his companions.Whether it was that he betrayed an unusual degree of eagerness ingetting through his task--showing an impatience to escape which hisenemy detected and resolved to baffle, cannot now be said; but to hisgreat annoyance and indignation, he was burdened with a portion of thewatch for the night--a duty which was clearly incumbent only upon thosewho had not shared in the fatigues of the expedition. But to expostulateor repine was alike useless, and Guernache submitted to his destiny withthe best possible grace. The provisions were stored, the gates closed,the watches set, and the garrison sunk to sleep, leaving our unhappymusician to pace, for several hours, the weary watch along the ramparts.How he looked forth into the dense forests which harbored his Monaletta!How he thought of the weary watch she kept! What were her fears, heranxieties? Did she know of his return? Did she look for his coming?The garrison slept--the woods were mysteriously silent! How delightfulit would be to surprise her in the midst of her dreams, and answerto her murmurs of reproach--uttered in the sweetest fragmentaryGallic--"Monaletta! I am here! Here is your own Guernache!"
The temptation was perilously sweet! The suggestion was irresistible;and, in a moment of excited fancy and passion, Guernache laid down hispiece, and leaped the walls of the fortress. He committed an unhappyerror to enjoy a great happiness, for which the penalties were not slowto come. In the dead of midnight, the garrison, still in a deep sleep,they were suddenly aroused in terror by the appalling cry of "fire!" Thefort, the tenements in which they slept, the granary, which had justbeen stored with their provisions, were all ablaze, and our Frenchmenwoke in confusion and terror, unknowing where to turn, how to work, orwhat to apprehend. Their military stores were saved--their powder andmunitions of war--but the "mils and beanes," so recently acquired fromthe granaries of King Ouade, with the building that contained them, wereswept in ashes to the ground.
This disaster, full of evil in itself, was productive of others, as itled to the partial discovery of the secret of our drummer. Guernache wasnot within the fort when the alarm was given. It is not improbable that,had he not left his post, the conflagration would have been arrested intime to save the fort and its provisions. His absence was noted, and hewas discovered, approaching from the forests, by those who bore forththe goods as they were rescued from the flames. These were mostlyfriends of Guernache, who would have maintained a generous silence; but,unhappily, Pierre Renaud was also one of the discoverers. This personnot only bore him no good will,--though gratitude for the servicerendered him at the feast of Toya should have bound him forever to thecause of Guernache,--but he was one who had become a gross sycophant andthe mere creature of the governor. He knew the hatred which the latterbore to Guernache, and a sympathizing nature led him promptly to divinethe cause. Overjoyed with the discovery which he had made, the basefellow immediately carried the secret to his master, and when the firstconfusion was over, which followed the disaster, Guernache was takeninto custody, and a day assigned for his trial as a criminal. To him wasascribed the fire as well as desertion from his post. The latter factwas unquestionable--the former was inferred. It might naturally beassumed, indeed, that, if the watch had not been abandoned, the flamescould not have made such fearful headway. It was fortunate for ourFrenchmen that the intercourse maintained with the Indians had been ofsuch friendly character. With the first intimation of their misfortune,the kings, Aud
usta and Maccou, bringing with them a numerous train offollowers, came to assist them in the labor of restoration and repair."They uttered unto their subjects the speedy diligence which they wereto use in building another house, showing unto them that the Frenchmenwere their loving friends and that they had made it evident unto themby the gifts and presents which they had received;--protesting that hewhosoever put not his helping hand to the worke with all his might,should be esteemed as unprofitable." The entreaties and commands of thetwo kings were irresistible. But for this, our Huguenots, "being farrefrom all succours, and in such extremitie," would have been, in thelanguage of their own chronicler, "quite and cleane out of all hope."The Indians went with such hearty good will to the work, and in suchnumbers, that, in less than twelve hours, the losses of the colonistswere nearly all repaired. New houses were built; new granaries erected;and, among the fabrics of this busy period, it was not forgotten toconstruct a keep--a close, dark, heavy den of logs, designed as aprison, into which, as soon as his Indian friends had departed, ourpoor fiddler, Guernache, was thrust, neck and heels! The former wererewarded and went away well satisfied with what they had seen and done.They little conjectured the troubles which awaited their favorite. Hewas soon brought to trial under a number of charges--disobedience oforders, neglect of duty, desertion of his post, and treason! To all ofthese, the poor fellow pleaded "_not guilty_;" and, with one exception,with a good conscience. But he had not the courage to confess the truth,and to declare where he had been, and on what mission, when he left thefort, on the night of the fire. He had committed a great fault, theconsequences of which were serious, and might have been still moreso; and the pleas of invariable good conduct, in his behalf, and theassertion of his innocence of all evil intention, did not avail. Hisjudges were not his friends; he was found guilty and remanded to hisdungeon, to await the farther caprices and the judgment of his enemy.