Chapter XV
On the succeeding evening Herbert proceeded to read to the assembled listeners the continuation of the reminiscences of the times of the American Revolution.
While the heart of many a patriotic American was throbbing with indignation and anxiety, and the countenances of many a mother, wife, daughter or sister was pale with watching and tears, the face of nature was delightful and undisturbed. The soft breezes were rich with the perfume of flowers and shrubs, the verdant fields glittered with the dew, the sweet melody of birds and hum of insects enlivened the scene, while the cattle, with measured steps, were pacing the accustomed path, toward their green pasture. With the early dawn the old marketman had returned, and brought stirring news. The roads, he said, were filled with soldiers, and tents were pitched in every convenient place; they would permit no provisions to be carried into Boston, and had even succeeded in carrying off the cattle which were pastured on the islands in the harbor, so that it was supposed that the British troops were likely to have much difficulty in procuring food. “Our troops are ready and brave enough,” said he, “if they be not trained for service, and, what if their muskets be of all sizes and shapes, the main thing is to know how to use them, which, I’ll warrant they do.” They had proceeded without any interruption, he said, until they had crossed Malden Bridge, when they were stopped by a small party of soldiers, who, after some questions, permitted him to go on, but refused to let the gentleman pass until they received further orders from their commander; that he had waited until they applied to him, who “luckily,” said the old man, “proved to be General Knox, and you may be sure that he would see that any friend of Captain B.’s had his rights, so, after some talk apart, he not only allowed him to proceed, but sent a man with him, that he might not be again stopped, and I saw him depart, after he had shaken hands with me, and left this piece of money with me, like a gentleman as he is.” He proceeded to say, that as it was late before he concluded his business, he had stopped at the house of an old acquaintance, near the Bridge. Thus relieved of their anxiety, they could now listen with interest, to the details of old Sam. “The regulars will be starved out, by and by,” said he, “if they don’t get scared to death first. They say that three of their generals, as they were walking down Beacon Hill, the other night, heard strange noisesover their heads, which they supposed to be some kind of airguns, fired at them by the Yankee rebels, as they called them, and took to their heels with such expedition that they nearly fell headlong; but, after all,” said he, with an explosion of great glee, “it was only the humming of beetles, and if they run for such imaginations, what will they do when they stand, face to face, with our brave boys? And, there is a plan afoot, which will soon settle the business; it is to erect works on the hill in Charlestown, which overlooks Boston, so that our men can fire in among them.” He then proceeded to say that the British would not permit the inhabitants of Boston to leave the town, or hold any communication with their friends; that it was said reinforcements from England were daily expected, and that the Americans were anxious to strike some bold stroke, before their arrival. More than all, he reported, that George Washington, of Virginia, was appointed Commander in Chief of the American Armies, “and a noble commander it is said he will make, being an old soldier, and, that it will not be long before he will be before Boston.” The heart of the affectionate mother throbbed with anxiety at these tidings. Situated as they were, in the very seat of contention, what would be the result if the enemy were victorious, and succeeded in dispersing her countrymen, and what would become of her, and her helpless little family? Anticipating such an emergency, her husband, in his last letter, had directed her to leave their home, and, with her little girls, retire to her native place, which was about forty miles in the interior, there to await his return, or the indications of Providence. With a heavy heart, after taking the advice of the good Prudy, who, with disinterested affection, offered to stay at the mansion as long as it was safe, she determined that the crisis which her husband had foreseen, had now arrived, and that she would follow his directions. “If,” said her faithful domestic, “it comes to the worst, Sam and I can shut up the house, turn out the cattle, and retire over the hill to his sister’s, where we shall be safe, but, it would not do for you, with these little ones, to run such a risk. You can now go with safety in the old chaise; which is roomy enough to hold considerable, and, you will not be afraid to drive the horse, who, tho’ not swift, is sure.”
Having come to this resolution, no time was to be lost, and they immediately commenced preparations for the journey.
The morning arrived when she must bid farewell to the scene of so much peace and quiet domestic joy, perhaps never again to see it, for she could not conceal from herself that fire and sword were the accompaniments of modern warfare; but her children, delighted at the journey, would not suffer a shade to linger upon her brow, and Prudy, amidst smiles and tears, uttered her affectionateadieu, echoed by Sam. The day was beautiful, and the wild enthusiasm of her companions prevented her indulgence in melancholy reflections, while the road led them away from the scenes of tumult and confusion, and she trusted they might escape observation. She was not disappointed; night brought them to the home of her youth, where a joyous welcome awaited them, and until better times, a peaceful retreat.
“And now,” said Mrs. Wilson, “I must leave my farther tale untold. Perhaps at some future time I may continue it, and I think it will interest you, as the incidents are connected with your family.” “I had hoped, mother,” said Charles, that you would tell us about Bunker Hill.” “I should not be a good historian, my son, in tales of war and bloodshed. Charlestown was burned by the British, as you know, but their devastations stopped there, at that time, and our old mansion was left unharmed and safe, till such time as its owners could return to its peaceful shades.” “And did the Tory uncle never return to America?” “He did not; he reached England in safety, but did not live long after that event. I will relate one little circumstance, Charles, which happened at this time. There was a poor widow, who occupied a small house in Charlestown, which was destroyed during the conflagration, and which comprised the whole of her fortune. She had contrived to support herself and two children by her daily exertions, but was now left destitute indeed. With the hope of assistance from some friends, in an adjoining town, she took her departure from the scene of destruction, carrying one child in her arms, while the other, an active little boy of four years, closely followed her footsteps. As he trudged along and employed the little staff with which his mother had provided him, in tracing lines in the road, he struck something which, by its brightness, attracted his attention. Picking it up and delighted with his prize, he soon overtook his mother and showed her a ring, the value of which was evident by its costly diamond, and the initials and cypher upon the inside. The good woman, rather perplexed than pleased with this circumstance, and tired with her walk, sat down with her children upon some timber to deliberate upon what she should do with her acquisition. Two gentlemen, whose dress announced them to be British officers, were walking slowly by, and as they passed, she heard one say, ‘It must have been near this spot. It was a last memento, and the loss is to me irreparable.” Thinking it possible this observation might refer to the ring, she immediately addressed them, and related the circumstance of her son’s finding it. It was directly identified, and claimed by the officer, who had made the remark which had attracted her attention. He had discovered his loss, and was then retracing his steps,though almost hopeless of recovering his treasure. He was a nobleman of high rank in the army, and, after a few words of inquiry, she received not only present assistance, but assurance that her son should never want a friend. The promise was faithfully fulfilled, and through the assistance of their kind benefactor, he received an education, which has enabled him to take a high stand in his profession, which was that of a clergyman, and he is now a much respected minister in this vicinity.”