Hansford: A Tale of Bacon's Rebellion Part 11

"Long-knives strike only when dey hate; Pamunkey fight from duty. If Manteo drop de tomahawk because he love, he is squaw, not a brave."

"But this Hansford," said Bernard, "is in arms against your people, whom the government would protect."

"Ugh!" grunted the young warrior. "Pamunkey want not long-knives'

protect. De grand werowance of long-knives has cut down de peace tree and broke de pipe, and de tomahawk is now dug up. De grand werowance protect red man like eagle protect young hare."

"Nay, but we would be friends with the Indians," urged Bernard. "We would share this great country with them, and Berkeley would be the great father of the Pamunkeys."

The Indian looked with ineffable disdain on his companion, and then turning towards the river, he pointed to a large fish-hawk, who, with a rapid swoop, had caught in his talons a fish that had just bubbled above the water for breath, and borne him far away in the air.

"See dere," said Manteo; "water belong to fish-hawk is fish's friend."

Bernard saw that he had entirely mistaken the character of his companion. The vengeance of the Indians being once aroused, they failed to discriminate between the authors of the injuries which they had received, and those who sought to protect them; and they attributed to the great werowance of the long-knives (for so they styled the Governor of Virginia) all the blame of the attack and slaughter of the unoffending Susquehannahs. But the wily Bernard was not cast down by his ill success, in attempting to arouse the vengeance of Manteo against his rival.

"Your sister is at the hall often, is she not?" he asked, after a brief pause.

"Ugh," said the Indian, relapsing into this affirmative grunt.

"So is Hansford-your sister knows him."

"What of dat?"

"Excuse me, my poor friend," said Bernard, "but I came to warn you that your sister knows him as she should not."

The forest echoed with the wild yell that burst from the lips of Manteo at this cruel fabrication-so loud, so wild, so fearful, that the ducks which had been quietly basking in the sun, and admiring their graceful shadows in the water, were startled, and with an alarmed cry flew far away down the river.

The Indian character, although still barbarous, had been much improved by a.s.sociation with the English. Respect for the female s.e.x, and a scrupulous regard for female purity, which are ever the first results of dawning civilization, had already taken possession of the benighted souls of the Indians of Virginia. More especially was this so with the young Manteo, whose a.s.sociation with the whites, notwithstanding his strong devotion to his own race, had imparted more refinement and purity to his nature than was enjoyed by most of his tribe. Mamalis, the pure, the spotless Mamalis-she, whom from his earliest boyhood he had hoped to bestow on some young brave, who, foremost in the chase, or most successful in the ambuscade, could tell the story of his achievements among the chieftains at the council-fire-it was too much; the stern heart of the young Indian, though "trained from his tree-rocked cradle the fierce extremes of good and ill to bear," burst forth in a gush of agony, as he thus heard the fatal knell of all his pride and all his hope.

Bernard was at first startled by the shriek, but soon regained his composure, and calm and composed regarded his victim. When at length the first violence of grief had subsided, he said, with a soft, mild voice, which fell fresh as dew upon the withered heart of the poor Indian,

"I am sorry for you, my friend, but it is too true. And now, Manteo, what can be your only consolation?"

"Revenge is de wighsacan[24] to cure dis wound," said the poor savage.

"Right. This is the only food for brave and injured men. Well, we understand each other now-don't we?"

"Ugh," grunted Manteo, with a look of satisfaction.

"Very well," returned Bernard, "is your tomahawk sharp?"

"It won't cut deep as dis wound, but I will sharpen it on my broken heart," replied Manteo, with a heavy sigh.

"Right bravely said. And now farewell; I will help you as I can," said Alfred Bernard, as he turned and rode away, while the poor Indian sank down again upon his rude log seat, his head resting on his hands.

"And this the world calls villainy!" mused Bernard, as he rode along.

"But it is the weapon with which nature has armed the weak, that he may battle with the strong. For what purpose was the faculty of intrigue bestowed upon man, if it were not to be exercised? and, if exercised at all, why surely it can never be directed to a purer object than the accomplishment of good. Thus, then, what the croaking moralist calls evil, may always be committed if good be the result; and what higher good can be attained in life than happiness, and what purer happiness can there be than revenge? No man shall ever cross my path but once with safety, and this young Virginia rebel has already done so. He has shown his superior skill and courage with the sword, and has made me ask my life at his hands. Let him look to it that he may not have to plead for his own life in vain. This young Indian's thirst will not be quenched but with blood. By the way, a lucky hit was that. His infernal yell is sounding in my ears yet. But Hansford stands in my way besides. This fair young maiden, with her beauty, her intellect, and her land, may make my fortune yet; and who can blame the poor, friendless orphan, if he carve his way to honour and independence even through the blood of a rival. The poor, duped savage whom I just left, said that he was his own worst enemy; I am wiser in being my own best friend. Tell me not of the world-it is mine oyster, which I will open by my wits as well as by my sword. Prate not of morality and philanthropy. Man is a microcosm, a world within himself, and he only is a wise one who uses the world without for the success of the world within. Once supplant this Hansford in the love of his betrothed bride, and I succeed to the broad acres of Windsor Hall. Old Berkeley shall be the scaffolding by which I will rise to power and position, and when he rots down, the building I erect will be but the fairer for the riddance. Who recks the path which he has trod, when home and happiness are in view? What general thinks of the blood he has shed, when the shout of victory rings in his ears? Be true to yourself, Alfred Bernard, though false to all the world beside! At last, good father Bellini, thou hast taught me true wisdom-'Success sanctifies sin.'"

FOOTNOTES:

[21] The name of the village at the confluence of Pamunkey and Mattapony, now called West Point.

[22] Grand Council of the Indians.

[23] A woman.

[24] A root used by the Indians successfully in the cure of all wounds.

CHAPTER XIII.

"Is this your joyous city, whose antiquity is of ancient days?"

_Isaiah._

"One mouldering tower, o'ergrown with ivy, shows Where first Virginia's capital arose, And to the tourist's vision far withdrawn Stands like a sentry at the gates of dawn.

The church has perished-faint the lines and dim Of those whose voices raised the choral hymn, Go read the record on the mossy stone, 'Tis brief and sad-oblivion claims its own!"

_Thompson's Virginia._

The traveller, as he is borne on the bosom of the n.o.ble James, on the wheezing, grunting steamboat, may still see upon the bank of the river, a lonely ruin, which is all that now remains of the old church at Jamestown. Despite its loneliness and desolation, that old church has its memories, which hallow it in the heart of every Virginian. From its ruined chancel that "singular excellent" Christian and man, good Master Hunt, was once wont, in far gone times, to preach the gospel of peace to those stern old colonists, who in full armour, and ever prepared for Indian interruptions, listened with devout attention. There in the front pew, which stood nearest the chancel, had sat John Smith, whose st.u.r.dy nature and strong practical sense were alone sufficient to repel the invasion of heathen savages, and provide for the wants of a famis.h.i.+ng colony. Yet, with all the sternness and rigour of his character, his heart was subdued by the power of religion, as he bowed in meek submission to its precepts, and relied with humble confidence upon its promises. The pure light of Heaven was reflected even from that strong iron heart. At that altar had once knelt a dusky but graceful form, the queenly daughter of a n.o.ble king; and, her savage nature enlightened by the rays of the Sun of righteousness, she had there received upon her royal brow the sacred sign of her Redeemer's cross. And many a dark eye was bedewed with tears, and many a strong heart was bowed in prayer, as the stout old colonists stood around, and saw the baptismal rite which sealed the profession and the faith of the brave, the beautiful, the generous Pocahontas.

But while this old ruin thus suggests many an a.s.sociation with the olden time, there is nothing left to tell the antiquary of the condition and appearance of Jamestown, the first capital of Virginia. The island, as the narrow neck of land on which the town was built is still erroneously called, may yet be seen; but not a vestige of the simple splendour, with which colonial pride delighted to adorn it, remains to tell the story of its glory or destruction. And yet, to the eye and the heart of the colonist, this little town was a delight: for here were a.s.sembled the Governor and his council, who, with mimic pride, emulated the grandeur and the pageant of Whitehall. Here, too, were the burgesses congregated at the call of the Governor, who, with their stately wives and blooming daughters, contributed to the delight of the metropolitan society. Here, too, was the princ.i.p.al mart, where the planters s.h.i.+pped their tobacco for the English market, and received from home those articles of manufacture and those rarer delicacies which the colony was as yet unable to supply. And here, too, they received news from Europe, which served the old planters and prurient young statesmen with topics of conversation until the next arrival; while the young folks gazed with wonder and delight at the s.h.i.+p, its crew and pa.s.sengers, who had actually been in that great old England of which they had heard their fathers talk so much.

The town, like an old-fas.h.i.+oned sermon, was naturally divided into two parts. The first, which lay along the river, was chiefly devoted to commercial purposes-the princ.i.p.al resort of drunken seamen, and those land harpies who prey upon them for their own subsistence. Here were located those miserable tippling-houses, which the a.s.sembly had so long and so vainly attempted to suppress. Here were the busy forwarding houses, with their dark counting-rooms, their sallow clerks, and their bills of lading. Here the shrewd merchant and the bluff sea-captain talked loudly and learnedly of the laws of trade, the restrictive policy of the navigation laws, and the growing importance of the commercial interests of the colony. And here was the immense warehouse, under the especial control of the government, with its hundreds of hogsheads of tobacco, all waiting patiently their turn for inspection; and the sweating negroes, tearing off the staves of the hogsheads to display the leaf to view, and then noisily hammering them together again, while the impatient inspector himself went the rounds and examined the wide spread plant, and adjudged its quality; proving at the same time his capacity as a connoisseur, by the enormous quid which he rolled pleasantly in his mouth.

But it is the more fas.h.i.+onable part of the town, with which our story has to do; and here, indeed, even at this early day, wealth and taste had done much to adorn the place, and to add to the comfort of the inhabitants. At one end of the long avenue, which was known as Stuart street, in compliment to the royal family, was situated the palace of Sir William Berkeley. Out of his private means and the immense salary of his office, the governor had done much to beautify and adorn his grounds. A lawn, with its well shaven turf, stretched in front of the house for more than a hundred yards, traversed in various directions with white gravelled walks, laid out with much taste, and interspersed with large elms and poplars. In the centre of the lawn was a beautiful summer-house, over which the white jessamine and the honeysuckle, planted by Lady Frances' own hand, clambered in rich profusion. The house, itself, though if it still remained, it would seem rather quaint and old-fas.h.i.+oned, was still very creditable as a work of architecture.

A long porch, or gallery, supported by simple Doric pillars, stretched from one end of it to the other, and gave an air of finish and beauty to the building. The house was built of brick, brought all the way from England, for although the colonists had engaged in the manufacture of brick to a certain extent, yet for many years after the time of which we write, they persisted in this extraordinary expense, in supplying the materials for their better cla.s.s of buildings.

At the other end of Stuart street was the state-house, erected in pursuance of an act, the preamble of which recites the disgrace of having laws enacted and judicial proceedings conducted in an ale-house.

This building, like the palace, was surrounded by a green lawn, ornamented with trees and shrubbery, and enclosed by a handsome pale-midway the gate and the portico, on either side of the broad gravel walk, were two handsome houses, one of which was the residence of Sir Henry Chicherley, Vice-President of the Council, and afterwards deputy-governor upon the death of Governor Jeffreys. The other house was the residence of Thomas Ludwell, Secretary to the colony, and brother to Colonel Philip Ludwell, whose st.u.r.dy and unflinching loyalty during the rebellion, has preserved his name to our own times.

The state-house, itself, was a large brick building, with two wings, the one occupied by the governor and his council, the other by the general court, composed indeed of the same persons as the council, but acting in a judicial capacity. The centre building was devoted to the House Burgesses exclusively, containing their hall, library, and apartments for different offices. The whole structure was surmounted by a queer looking steeple, resembling most one of those high, peaked hats, which Hogarth has placed on the head of Hudibras and his puritan compeers.

Between the palace and the state-house, as we have said before, ran Stuart street, the thoroughfare of the little metropolis, well built up on either side with stores and the residences of the prominent citizens of the town. There was one peculiarity in the proprietors of these houses, which will sound strangely in the ears of their descendants.

Accustomed to the generous hospitality of the present day, the reader may be surprised to learn that most of the citizens of old Jamestown entertained their guests from the country for a reasonable compensation; and so, when the gay cavalier from Stafford or Gloucester had pa.s.sed a week among the gaieties or business of the metropolis,

He called for his horse and he asked for his way, While the jolly old landlord cried "_Something_ to pay."

But when we reflect that Jamestown was the general resort of persons from all sections of the colony, and that the tavern accommodations were but small, we need not be surprised at a state of things so different from the glad and gratuitous welcome of our own day.

Such, briefly and imperfectly described, was old Jamestown, the first capital of Virginia, as it appeared in 1676, to the little party of travellers, whose fortunes we have been following, as they rode into Stuart street, late in the evening of the day on which they left Windsor Hall. The arrival, as is usual in little villages, caused quite a sensation. The little knot of idlers that gathered about the porch of the only regular inn, desisted from whittling the store box, in the demolis.h.i.+ng of which they had been busily engaged-and looked up with an impertinent stare at the new comers. Mine host bustled about as the carriage drove up before the door, and his jolly red face grew redder by his vociferous calls for servants. In obedience to his high behest, the servants came-the hostler, an imported c.o.c.kney, to examine the points of the horses committed to his care, and to measure his provender by their real worth; the pretty Scotch chambermaid to conduct the ladies to their respective rooms, and a brisk and dapper little French barber to attack the colonel vehemently with a clothes-brush, as though he had hostile designs upon the good man's coat.

Bernard, in the meantime, having promised to come for Virginia, and escort her to the famous birth-night ball, rode slowly towards the palace; now and then casting a haughty glance around him on those worthy gossips, who followed his fine form with their admiring eyes, and whispered among themselves that "Some folks was certainly born to luck; for look ye, Gaffer, there is a young fribble, come from the Lord knows where, and brought into the colony to be put over the heads of many worthier; and for all he holds his head so high, and sneers so mighty handsome with his lip, who knows what the lad may be. The great folk aye make a warm nest for their own b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, and smooth the outside of the blanket as softly as the in, while honester folks must e'en rough it in frieze and Duffield. But na'theless, I say nothing, neighbor."