THE sun was filling the east with golden filaments, and the sparrows were making the air melodious with their songs, glad, no doubt, at the major's return, when, on the morning following the events I have recorded in the foregoing chapter, I was awakened by a voice singing sweetly under my window. I soon recognized it as the voice of Bessie, whose image rose up in my fancy as the fairest of living creatures. At first, my senses seemed seized with a pleasant delirium; but soon the strains came so sweet and tender that I lost all power over my emotions, while it seemed to me as if my fancy had winged its way to some land where love and joy rules unclouded. "O, sweet transport, whither wilt thou beguile me!" I said with a sigh, as the voice ceased its singing, and the effect was like an electric shock, consuming me with disappointment. But I heard the dulcet echoes mingling faintly with the songs of birds, as if some seraph had strung her lute to give sweet music to the winds; and I was consoled.
After a few moments' pause the voice again broke forth from the garden, and I caught the following words, which, if I can trust my treacherous memory, belong to a song written by the learned Dr. Easley when in the tutelage of his literary career, and heaven knows, (for he was then a priest of slender means,) before he ever thought of translating German or becoming the pensioned puffer of three New York booksellers: "Come, gentle stranger, haste thee hither, Tarry not, for I am lonely—Come and tell me whom thou lovest Or the throbbing mischief will my heart betray." This being a fair and honest specimen of Easley's early attempts at versification, it was said of him by those best qualified to judge, that had he but stuck to the pulpit and sonnet writing, he would in time have become an adept, for he could compose pathetically enough, and so regulate his points as to make his theology appear quite profound. But he had a weakness which ran to the getting of gold, and this betrayed him into the commerce of literature, where he had become a critic of easy virtue, and had attracted about him innumerable adorers, principally maidens of twenty, whose elegant endowments and clever novels he could not sufficiently extol. Besides being a poet and a great praiser of small books, the learned doctor had a rare talent for making ladies' slippers, which, it had been more than once hinted, was the trade of his early youth. It was now charged upon him, though I do not assert it of my own knowledge, that he had found it profitable to become the assassin of criticism and the undertaker of literature, for which offices he was amply qualified, notwithstanding the very serious writers in Putnam's Magazine thought he ought to be transported to Sandy Hook, there to do penance among the breakers a whole November. And this punishment they would no doubt have carried out, but for the two newspapers and four booksellers, who stood in so much need of his virgin goodness that they refused to part with him even for a day.
After another pause, the voice of Bessie again struck up, and this time she sung: "O, had I Ariadne's crown, At morning I would sing to thee—Would sing of dew-drops on thy ringlets, Then my Apollo thou should'st be." This, also, was by the learned Doctor Easley, and is extracted from a poem published in his native village many years ago. Having great confidence in its numerous beauties, which the villagers, being humble people, failed to discover, the doctor resolved to seek his fortune in New York, confident that first rate poetic talent never was appreciated in the country.
The sweetness of Bessie's voice (not the words) so enchanted me, that I arose, dressed myself, and hurried down stairs, and into the reading room, where the little deformed man was premeditating the ill fate of his lecture. He returned my salutation with great earnestness of manner, told me he had walked three times around the square, listening to the birds sing. And, too, he had been regarded by young Barnstable as an object of curiosity. Impatient to engage me in conversation, he drew forth his notes, which he as suddenly shut up and returned to his pocket, on seeing the clerical looking man enter the room, accompanied by his bride, her countenance the very picture of innocence betrayed.
The little deformed man had evidently taken a dislike to the gray haired and milky faced groom; for no sooner had he pocketed his notes than he set to pacing the room rapidly, frisking his fingers alternately behind and before him, and casting half angry glances over his shoulder at him. I took advantage of this display of irrascibility on the part of the lecturer, and passed into the hall, where Bessie, having ceased her singing, was busily arranging the furniture and attending to those little domestic duties which, in towns where fashion rules, are left to untutored servants. She received my salutation with a modest courtesy, but became so confused and agitated as I pressed her hand, that, unable to resist the temptation, I stole a kiss ere she was conscious of my intention. "It is not kind of you, sir," she said, in a half chiding whisper; "you must not do it again." And she set her black eye upon me, inquiringly, and artlessly raised her apron, as if to wipe away the blushes. Fain would I have pressed her to my bosom, and beseeched her to regard me as a brother. But her face suddenly became lighted up with a smile, and such was the perfection of its beauty that to me it seemed created only for an angel. I asked myself if there was on earth any thing I could aspire to with so much gallantry as her love; nor could I suppress the thought, that he who would betray it was unworthy even of the devil.
Bessie quickly regained her temper, and as if suddenly recalling something to mind, began prattling to me in the most artless manner. "Just think, sir," said she, "what a disturbance there is in town this morning." And she laid her hand gently upon my arm. "That queer man they call the major, and who is thought half fool and half philosopher, has got back; and there's always such a time in town when he comes. And, don't you think, he has brought an audacious pig with him. And the pig has gone to work (they say, sir, that he is possessed of a devil) and broke into poor Elder Boomer's fowl yard, and eat up all his chickens. And the brute does such queer things! As for the poor elder, God knows he has a hard enough time to live. He only gets five hundred dollars a year, and what the sewing circle does for him. Only last week the circle gave him new dresses for all his family, and a nice three-ply carpet, which I made for him. I forgot to tell you, too, that about a month since the circle gave him a new set of dimity bed curtains, and two marseilles quilts; and now they will have to make him up the loss of his chickens. Just think of it, sir! And he's such a good old man, and preaches such good sermons. I do wish, you could hear him once, sir." Here Bessie paused to take breath. I assured her that he must be a fortunate man who had such lips to speak his praises. At which she gave me a rogueish look, blushed, and tossed her head reprovingly. Nothing, I replied, would give me so much pleasure, especially did she bear me company, as to attend the elder's church; but, however strong my inclinations, they could not now be gratified, for the imperative nature of my mission left me but one or two days to tarry in Barnstable. This caused her feelings some disquiet; but with great good sense she changed the subject of conversation, and commenced giving me a detailed account of the various kind acts performed by the sewing circle, of which she was a member, and which was chiefly made up of worthy ladies, who sought out the needy and relieved their wants, knowing that charity well bestowed is recorded in heaven.
The sewing circle exercised a sort of paternity over all cases of distress, and according to Bessie, never withheld relief, except when the object requiring it was given to strong drink. In truth, it was held that something must be done for all persons in distress; and so many were the poor foreign families moving into town, that it was seldom the circle had not its hands full. As to the provision prohibiting strong drink, it was found at times to work somewhat inconveniently, inasmuch as most of the objects of charity, (the clergy excepted,) liked a little; and being of foreign birth they could always find the means to get it, though they generally swore they had not wherewith to get a penny loaf.
"And what is worse," resumed Bessie, recurring to the mischievous pig, "as if it wasn't enough that the elder lost all his chickens, but some evil-minded people must go and get into the church, and put a coop full of poor little fowls on the pulpit. O! there's such an ado about it over town!"
It being the custom of the country to breakfast at seven o'clock, and that hour having arrived, a man in a blue smock frock issued from a side door, (Bessie vaulted up the hall as he entered,) and commenced ringing a bell in so loud a manner that I verily thought he would alarm the whole neighborhood. An opening of doors, and a general movement for the dining room, a long, simply furnished, but exquisitely clean apartment, was now made. A table covered with linen of snowy whiteness, and set out with great good taste, ranged up the center of the room; and we sat down to a breakfast of steak, and ham, and eggs, and cold chickens, and fish balls, and hot rolls, and corn cakes, and brown bread-all prepared so nice and delicately, that even the most fastidious could have found nothing to grumble at. Indeed it was said of the the landlord of the "Independent Temperance," that he spared neither pains nor expense in the management of his house, which had gained much fame over the country, though it had thrice made him a bankrupt with three score of creditors, who were always ready to say wicked things of him. Some people said if the temperance society would only let him have his way, he would pay, and no thanks to anybody.
Bessie, and two trimly dressed maidens of riper years, waited upon the guests, nor thought the occupation bemeaning. And so nimble were their movements, and so gentle the manner in which they dispensed their courtesies, that I began to regret my bachelorhood, and to wish all male attendants exiled to Nantucket, where their habitual unclean condition would find a welcome among the whalemen.
I had well nigh dispatched my breakfast, when there arose a loud noise, as of voices in dispute, in the bar-room. Bessie began to tremble from head to foot, and to turn pale. "You must give up the pig, or stand the chances-now mind that!" said a voice which I at once recognized as that of the renowned Major Potter.
"Heaven knows I am a man of peace; but you must make good the loss I have suffered. All this trouble and mischief is done by the audacious brute you have brought into the town. You go out for good, and always come home bringing the town trouble. I have warned you of the error of your ways. But since you take not heed, we shall see what virtue there is in the Squire." This was said in a more modified tone of voice. Bessie said that it was the voice of Elder Boomer.
"You needn't think you are such a treasure! The town can get along well enough without you. By my military reputation, if I don't think all this ado about the poor pig is a trick to get the advantage of a neighbor you imagine hasn't got as good a lien upon heaven as yourself. Now, good man, do you take the safest plan, give the animal up to its owner, and trust to heaven for the price of the chickens, for it is written somewhere, that peace makers, being blessed, should not be peace breakers-"
"To quarrel is not my desire," interrupted the elder; "for such would not become me, who have no experience in arms; but I enjoin you to give up the life you are living, and so turn your energies to Christ's truth, that you may become worthy of heaven."
"Heaven has nothing to do with my pig!" rejoined the major. "Nor do I think this talking of heaven, while keeping him in bondage, will amount to much. Come! turn him out, be a christian, practice what you preach, and trust to heaven for the reward, as you would have me do!" To this the elder replied somewhat testily, that he would keep the animal fast locked up until the damages were settled, notwithstanding his faith in future rewards was in nowise shaken. I entered the bar room and found the major thrusting his hands into the huge pockets of his trowsers, walking round the elder, who was a man of meek aspect, and singularly lean of figure. Then canting his head with an air of self complacency, he enjoined the elder not to separate his works from his faith.
No sooner had the major caught a glance of me, than he approached, saluted me as became his military rank, and drew me aside to show me how handsomely the Patriot had recorded his arrival. This done, he commenced recounting the causes of his dispute with the parson, who would every few minutes speak up, and dispute the truth of his assertion, which so displeased the major, that had the parson been a fighting man, he would have challenged him to mortal combat, as it is called. As it was, he contented himself with getting in a passion, and swearing to have revenge, though it cost him six years' separation from his wife, Polly Potter.
Although famous for his disregard of truth, the major affected never to have his word disputed, and was at all times ready to draw his sword in its defence. "Heaven, as you know, knows all things, sir," said he, addressing himself to me; "and it knows me incapable of doing a dishonorable act. And therefore I say to you, for I hold it an honor and no disgrace to be a politician, that if you will hear patiently the cause of my dispute with this parson, I will accept your decision in the matter as final. But, heaven save the mark! use your judgment a little, sir, and be not like some of our judges, who seek to please those who promise most, and having little virtue, ask you to accept their good advice in excuse for their evil example." The major having said this with an air of conciliation, gave his head a significant toss, and his trowsers, which had got loose about his hips, a few twitches into place.
It now came to the parson's turn to speak. He shook his head at first, and was not a little reluctant about acceding to such terms; but on being assured of my position as a politician, who had done so much for Cape Cod, and the hard cider campaign, he resolved to accept my decision as final. Meanwhile, the major had screwed up his courage, and was making a circle round the parson, and loudly calling upon the landlord to bear witness that it had been his motto through life to wrong no man.
Numerous idlers had by this time gathered round the disputants, each giving his opinion on the merits of the question, and offering to back it up with dollars or drinks. Indeed, some of the opinions delivered by them were quite as profound as any delivered by our City Justices, and indeed discovered a superior sense of prudence. But it soon became evident that popular opinion was on the side of the major and his pig. And popular opinion was right, the major said, and ought to be respected all over the world. At this juncture of affairs, the lean figure of the nonresistant, (who was sure not to be far off when there was any chance of a disturbance,) stood in the doorway, and immediately engaged in the dispute. "I have not come (heaven knows I have not!) to give an opinion; but as I am here, it may be as well so to do, for heaven knows I am a man of peace, which it is my mission to preserve." The nonresistant was here interrupted by the major, who squared up to him with clenched fists, and bid him begone, or he would make splinters of him in a trice. The man, however, was not daunted by such threats, and getting his choler up, told the major he verily believed him to be a mixture of Jew and Celt, and as such, always more ready to talk than fight. He then told the parson, that although he held him in no very high favor, he would hint for his own sake, that he could in no way get the better of his enemy so well as by releasing the pig from custody, and delivering him into the hands of his owner, saying: "'Neighbor, prudence being the twin brother of peace, and both being acceptable to heaven, I have thought it well to restore thee thy pig, that thou mayest comfort him. He has eaten up my chickens, it is true, and he has otherwise done me grievous harm; but I freely forgive him, seeing that heaven made him a brute. Thou mayest take care of him; do for him what seemeth good; and know that as a christian I bear thee no malice. Let the good offset the evil, and I will trust in heaven to repair the loss I have suffered.'"
The nonresistant held that kindness was of itself so great a weapon, that it would incite generosity in the major-in a word, that he would give all his tin ware, with old Battle thrown in, rather than let such goodness suffer. But the major was not so easily seduced, and, calling the nonresistant a miscreant, he again bid him begone, or he would hasten his exit with the toe of his boot. On assenting to sit in judgment on the case in dispute, I took the precaution to stipulate that peace be preserved, and that the one should keep his lips sealed while the other was making his statement. But the parson commenced his statement by declaring the pig to be possessed of the devil; indeed it could not be otherwise, he said, since the strange antics it performed, and which he minutely described, betrayed a desire in him only to do evil. This the major immediately rose to dispute; and thrusting his hands into the ample pockets of his breeches, he declared with great emphasis, that he would not hear a word said against the pig's morals and sagacity, seeing that he had been reared and educated in the care of the clergy. In truth, he had given out so many proofs of rare sagacity, that the major stated it as his intention to speedily proceed with him to New York, there to have his "Life and Times" written by the erudite Easley, who was said to be strangely profound as a critic, in which capacity he wrote for three newspapers, and read for three or more publishers, all of whom where celebrated for not selling less than one hundred thousand copies of every work to which they affixed their imprint, though it was said of them that they had thrown to the public no end of literary carrion, which Easley had praised.
Order being restored, the major gave way to the parson, who closed his case by asserting that his poverty entitled him to compensation. The major now rose, and with considerable clearness, set forth the fact, that no evidence had been produced to show either that the pig was disposed to evil, or that he had devoured a single chicken. Feathers were scattered round, but feathers might have been laid there as a blind by some rascal who had divers evil designs against the hen roosts of his neighbors. Christians ought always, the major contended, to take a generous view of things before they couched the fatal spear. Again, there was neighbor Kimball's pet fox, an arrant rascal, who was known to have a strange penchant for young chickens, and had committed depredations enough to consign him to the gallows.
The above view of the case somewhat modified the parson's temper, and as he would not have those present think him less than a Christian gentleman, who would rather go supperless to bed than wrong his fellow, he, in the blandest manner, begged them not to think for a moment that he intended wrong. So, with great sanctity of countenance, he laid his hand upon his heart, called Omnipotence to witness that he bore the major no ill will, and was ready to atone for aught he had said damaging to his feelings. And this display of repentance well nigh dissolved the major into tears. The disputants now shook hands, and swore eternal friendship. The major bowed, and placed his hand to his heart; and the parson bowed, and placed his hand to his heart; and thus was I relieved from rendering a verdict, which most likely would have pleased neither. It was likewise intimated to the parson, that the sewing circle would make good his loss, with fourfold interest, which consoled him much. Together then the two friends, without further ceremony, set out to release the animal from bondage, congratulating one another that they had been wise enough to keep out of the hands of lawyers. On arriving at the parson's yard, to which they were followed by a crowd of idlers, they were not a little surprised to find that the pig had taken his departure, having first beaten the dog in a fair fight, and twice driven the kitchen maid frightened into the house. Great anxiety was now manifested to see an animal of such rare qualities; and on further search being made, he was discovered in neighbor Kimball's yard, fraternizing with his pet fox, and otherwise conducting himself so unbecomingly, as to make it evident that the friends of free love had inducted him into the mysteries of their system. In truth, he bore no small resemblance to a few of the disciples of that very accommodating system, for he was lean of figure, had a long, narrow head, and a vacant look out of the eyes.
"Duncan! my own Duncan!" ejaculated the major, his broad face flushed with joy. The animal raised his snout, gave a significant grunt, and ceasing his caressings, ran to his master, a double curl in his tail. Having got possession of his property, the major returned thanks within himself, invoked a blessing on the head of the parson, whom he cursed in his heart, and set out for home, followed by his pig and a score of mischievous boys, making the very air resound with their hootings.
WHEN Major Roger Potter reached his home, he found his wife Polly waiting with eager desire to see the animal he had so vividly described. "Pray to God, dear Polly," said he, embracing and kissing his wife, as the mischievous boys set up a loud yell, "for our pig is safe, and in him there is a fortune, which you shall share, and he comforted." And having consigned the animal to the care of his wife, who, although a strong minded woman in her way, looked at first with no little distrust on the animal, but became favorably impressed on seeing him cut certain curious capers round the room. Indeed she soon began to congratulate herself on the possession of so rare a creature, and to invoke certain ills on the head of the parson for holding him so tight in his fingers. "Peace, dear Polly," enjoined the major, "for goodness belongs to our kind. The nonresistant was right, (and right should have its right,) when he advised me to use goodness as the most effectual weapon to demolish an adversary. It becomes me, as it does all good christians, to reverence and adore the Church; but I own it is not in me to reverence those priests and deacons who affect to regale your palate with truth, while splitting God's goodness into fragments, merely to please those who have a terrible thirst to get to heaven over a road no one else travels."
"As to that, my dear husband," responded the earnest woman, "I cannot be a judge. But a major as famous as yourself, should be careful how he mixes glory with his profanity; lest the public, whose servant he is, set it down against him, and use it to his injury on election day."
"Truly, wife," rejoined the major, assuming an air of great self-complacency, "we military politicians had needs keep our wits whetted, and be careful how much honey we mix with the brimstone. But I must go look up my chickens; and if the devil, as some say, regulates the future affairs of politicians, we may safely leave our enemies to him." The good woman now brought food for the pig, when, having devoured it with a keen appetite, the major, in order to test his various talents, put him to a severe examination. It was found that he could perform with wonderful agility numerous gymnastic feats, such as jumping backward and forward, walking and vaulting upon his hinder legs, and keeping time to certain tunes. He could also distinguish between certain figures and letters of the alphabet, to the latter of which he would, when directed, point with his nose. Like some of our New York politicians, the pig was a wondrous animal in various ways. In fine, so extraordinary was his talent, that, as I have before said, the major resolved at once to proceed with him to one of our great cities, where first rate talent, whether of pigs or tragedians, was sure to find appreciation. But before this could be carried out, it was necessary that the services of Monsieur Pensin‚, who gave lessons in politeness to youths just entering society, be engaged to cultivate and so polish his manners as to render him an acceptable member of the Union Club, under the patronage of which institution, (generally supposed to have been established for the cultivation of effeminacy and other vices, common to the Dutch of New York,) he was sure to become a lion. Monsieur Pensin‚ had figured in New York; was an exile of unquestionable nobility; and if we can trust the Tribune, a journal in high favor with foreign counts, a hero of enlarged celebrity.
And now the sagacious animal, fatigued with the labors of his examination, evinced an inclination to sleep, and to that end sought a distant corner of the room. "We must treat him tenderly, dear Polly, for he has wonderful instincts," said the major, casting a look of endearing sympathy at the animal. The good woman pledged her word not to be found wanting. Indeed so well did she appreciate the instincts, and even the tastes of the animal, that, having at hand a stray copy of the New York Express, and another of a very rare but no less wonderful journal, called the Mirror, (whose editor was famous for the immense amount of light and shade he threw into his financial operations,) she spread them upon the floor for his bed. And with an evident fellow feeling for those worthy journals, the animal coiled himself down, casting an approving look at the good woman as she covered him with an aged copy of the Herald. Seeing the animal thus reconciled, the major declared, that so pure a native American as Duncan could not have selected bed more appropriate, though he was not quite sure how the Express editors would regard the matter. Indeed, he was not quite sure that they would not, feeling sorely grieved, dig up Duncan's ancestors, and thereby find a means of damaging his character.
As the precious animal calmly went to sleep, the major sallied out, having first drawn his sword to disperse the noisy boys who had gathered about his door, and who hurled no few missiles at his head before they were routed. He then set out for the church, where he had an altercation with the sexton, which had resulted in blows but for his courage giving out. Twice he lost his temper, and twice he regained it. He at length got into the church, in search of his chickens; and to his great surprise and mortification, found that some political or military enemy (he would swear it was no one else) had broken his coop, and set them loose among the pews. Indeed it was high noon when the major got possession of his fowls, which he did with the aid of the sexton and several mischievous boys. He then secured them nicely in his coop, and having shouldered it, returned to his wife, presenting her with another proof of the success of his voyage, and relating how he got the advantage of Mrs. Trotbridge in the trade of the Shanghais. After which he seated himself in a chair, and for several minutes seemed absorbed in deep study. "Now, I tell thee, my dear Polly," he suddenly broke out, "Major Potter was born for no ordinary man. My enemies can inflict no injuries that will discourage me, for I have got scars enough, heaven knows; and scars are the proofs of a brave soldier. Major Potter never ran from an enemy! And that is something for a man to say who has been in the Mexican war. It was, as you know, by the merest slip in the world that I did not succeed to fortune the two last times I was in public life. And, dear Polly, I have now a better chance than ever, having fallen in with a great politician in search of fame. By joining our fortunes I will so manage it as to get the better of my enemies; and with a little aid from my friends of the newspapers, you will yet see me in power. I am a man of valor, I mix but little honey with my brimstone; and let my enemies say what they will, take my word for it, you shall yet see yourself the wife of a foreign minister."
"As to your valor, dear husband," returned his affectionate wife, "no one ever doubted it who knew you; and though there is nothing I so much covet as to be the wife of a foreign minister, and to move among great people abroad, and talk about it when I get home, our family is growing up, and need all we can earn to get them bread. And as they might become a town tax, while you were getting the office, perhaps we had better thank heaven, and remain humble folks until we can get to be fine ones without being sneered at."
"Indeed, Polly," said the major, in reply, "if any such mishap should befall you while I am gone, you must pray heaven, and get along as well as you can until I send relief. It is noble to struggle on and wait for the reward, which always comes." The good woman heard these words with tears in her eyes, and began to tax her resolution for means to meet the emergency; for she saw clearly that the major had got a freak into his head, and was about to give up the business of peddling tin ware, at which he made an honest living, and again lead the vagabond life of a politician.
And while this colloquy was proceeding between the major and his wife, I had taken a seat in the reading-room of the "Independent Temperance," where Giles Sheridan, the little deformed man, was nervously pacing the floor, and pausing every few minutes either to give me a few random sketches of his career in the world, or to mutter his misgiving at the result of his lecture on Crabbe. In truth, he had been waited upon several times during the morning by persons regarded by the town as famous for their great learning, all of whom said, if he had chosen a subject less remote, they would have guaranteed a large house; as it was, they were not quite so sure of the result. Soon the dapper figure of Bessie appeared in the room. "Please, sir," she said, as her cheeks crimsoned with blushes, "they say you came into town with that queer man they call Major Potter?"
"And what of that, my child?" I replied, as another sentence trembled upon her lips, which were as tempting as ripe cherries.
"Why, sir," she lisped, "you must know that although he now and then talks like a sensible man, he is set down for a great fool. He affords a deal of amusement for the boys, and never comes home but what he keeps the whole town in an uproar. Being a great fool is what got him elected Major of the Invincibles. And then he fancies himself a great politician, and goes about the country delivering lectures, as he calls them, and leaves his family to starve. Proceed no farther with him; for I heard our minister say (and he never profanes his calling) that the devil had run away with his brains. He is always talking about his valor, and his military dignity; but his poor distressed wife can tell you all about that." She was proceeding to say much more, but was interrupted by the appearance of the major, who, as he said, came to say, that as his wife was sick of a fever, and the house in a somewhat disordered condition, I must excuse his not giving me an invitation to dine with him. He hoped, however, that sufficient proof had been given to convince me of the high estimation in which he was held by Barnstable in general. "Pardon what I may have said extravagant of myself, sir. The rabble, you know, are always ready to get down a man of genius, and to misconstrue his acts; but the thinking never fail, as they have done with me, to give merit its due." Having said this with refreshing self complacency, the major turned to Giles Sheridan, (Bessie had left the room,) and as if to add to his discomfiture, told him he had little to expect from his lecture on Crabbe, of whom it was said that he could not be much of a poet, since the people of Barnstable knew so little of him. Indeed he offered to wager two dozen tin pints, a Shanghai chicken, and his military honor with the little deformed man, that he would give an exhibition with his pig, whose wonderful qualifications had already got noised over town, and attract a greater audience. Indeed, as I have resolved never to swerve from the truth in this history, it must be here acknowledged that the pig had become quite as famous as his master.
The little deformed man was in nowise pleased with such a comparison of his acquirements, and answered by saying, it did not become him to hold argument with a man, however high his military position, who would place genius in the scale with brute instinct. Seeing the pain he had caused the little man, the major said he meant no offence, and was ready to get upon his knees, dissolved in tears, if that were necessary to a good and sufficient apology. In fine, it must be said of the major, that, although he was at times emphatic in his eccentric declarations, he would not knowingly wound the feelings of those who had done him no harm. And, unlike some editors of New York newspapers, he always held himself accountable according to the strictest military rules, nor was he ever known to regard the character of his fellow in arms as of so little worth, that he would daily splinter it for the amusement of the public.
The major said he had come to see if I was comfortable, and to inform me that he had thrown the editor of the Patriot a sly hint about noticing the arrival of so distinguished a person as myself. And the editor had assured him it would be properly recorded in his columns, and so embroidered as to make it pleasant to his fancy. The major now took leave of me, satisfied within himself of having convinced me that he was a man of stupendous parts. I must not forget to say that he promised to call again, and be present at the lecture in the evening, inasmuch as his absence could not fail to be seriously felt.
Night came on, and with it there gathered into the lecture room of the Orthodox Church, an audience of many bonnets and much respectability. Proverbially inquisitive, the people of the good old town of Barnstable were on tip-toe, to see the man of whose curious figure they had heard so much. And as if to gratify their curiosity, Giles Sheridan now rose, frisked the little black scroll about in his fingers, wiped the sweat nervously from his brow, and, in a faltering voice, gave an interesting sketch of the early life of his darling poet. This he continued for more than an hour, now warming into eloquence, now subsiding into a low, desponding voice. But his hearers sat unmoved, nor was one hand of applause raised to cheer his too misgiving heart. They wondered, and listened, and looked at one another, as was the custom of the country. The little deformed man, however, took it as a proof that he had failed to interest them; and this sorely taxed his sensitive nature. I ought also not to forget to mention that the speaker was twice interrupted by the major, who begged that he would state the exact quality of poetry written by his friend, the poet. The audience took this interruption very good naturedly, while the speaker gratified the major's curiosity by reciting a number of verses written by him. The major then said he was fully satisfied that this Mr. Crabbe must have been a great poet; but he thought if the speaker had known one Sergeant Milton, who wrote poetry in honor of the regiment he was major of during the Mexican war, he would not have set Mr. Crabbe on so high a horse. Indeed, according to what the major said, this Sergeant Milton was the most wonderful poet that ever sung of the Mexican War; and in addition to the gift of being a versifier, he was celebrated for brewing an excellent whiskey punch, without which no poet could hope for prosperity in New York, where punch begat poetry, and foul linen seemed inseparable from poets.
The speaker smiled at the major's quaint remarks concerning his friend, Sergeant Milton. But such was the failure he fancied himself making, that he would gladly have given the fifteen dollars he was to receive in pay for his lectures, and said not a word about the victuals, to have got quietly out of town. But in truth he had not a shilling in his pocket, and the money he was to receive of the committee constituted the forlorn hope of his future fortunes. So, with a heart overburdened with despondency, and an eye made liquid with anxiety, he concluded in a faltering voice, and heaved a sigh. And as no one came forward to congratulate him, and the very atmosphere seemed to partake of the frigidity of the audience, he watched his hearers disperse in silence, frisking his fingers, and wondering if he had made them any wiser on the life of one Crabbe.
But a silent tongue is no proof of what the heart feels; nor does the outward demonstration carry with it the stronger appreciation of merit. And so it proved in this instance. It being the custom of the country not to applaud on such occasions, the audience went home to unbosom its approval, which was of the heartiest kind. On his way home, the little man was joined by an elder of the church, who, seeing his despondency, said unto him: "Permit me to congratulate you, sir, for never was audience more interested in a lecture. You did nobly, sir." The little man's heart was touched. He grasped the speaker by the hand firmly, and as his enthusiasm broke its bounds, he poured forth his gratitude in a rhapsody of thanks. Indeed, so quickly did the word of consolation reinstate his confidence, that he became like an overjoyed child, and in the innocence of his heart invited the elder home with him, that they might enjoy a punch together. In short, he not only convinced Barnstable that Mr. Crabbe was a great poet, but so enlisted sympathy for himself, that the benevolent ladies of the sewing circle, seeing the dilapidated state of his raiment, made him up a purse, and presented it with an intimation that Warren, the tailor, lived at the corner. I should not forget to mention, that his second and third lectures proved more successful than the first, and that Major Roger Potter looked in at the "Independent Temperance" to compliment the little deformed man on the very learned character of his lecture, much of which (so he said) had so deeply interested him, that he had resolved to incorporate it into his next political speech, which he intended soon to make in opposition to that arch agitator, Thomas Benton, Esq., and which the state of the nation demanded should be done at no very distant day. Having said this, he called me aside, and enjoining me to keep what he said a profound secret, whispered what will be related in the next chapter, and took his departure.
"You will see, sir," whispered the major, putting the fore finger of his right hand to his lips, "that my inclination never runs to small things. It quite confounded my wife, Polly, when I revealed to her my intention of complying with your request, and of our setting out together in search of fame and fortune. But as I have the power of persuasion pretty largely developed, and am in all quite a philosopher, I overcame her objections by telling her you were a sprightly young gentleman, whose political fame and great learning was coupled with the most kind and affectionate disposition. 'Honor, husband,' says she, 'to whom honor is due. I know you have deserved, if you have not yet achieved. But let not your success in office carry away your modesty and humility. And above all, remember to think of us at home, for I have heard it said that politicians let their loves run too free when away from their wives.' Having assured her that I would not forget her admonition, and be careful upon what damsel I let a double look fall, she consented that I might depart a third time, and see what could be done. And I made a vow never to forget her while the sun of prosperity shone upon me. Now, if you will just fix the time of our departure, you will find me ready. Major Potter, as you have seen, is no small man in Barnstable. Major Potter never comes and goes without being noticed. And if you havn't had proof enough of my popularity, you'll see what an ado there will be made when I leave. Honor, as my wife Polly says, always awaits them who merit it; and though a man's modesty will not let him be for ever speaking of himself, I may say it to you, seeing that we are about to join our fortunes, that the people never see me go without a regret. As to my children, I shall give each an admonition before I leave; and as I hope one day to see them enjoying the admiration, as well as the distinction my military reputation will confer upon them, it will be safe to leave the rest to heaven." The major conveyed this information in so quaint a manner that I could not suppress a smile, though it disclosed a resolution I by no means welcomed. In truth, I had already seen so much of his eccentricities, that I was hoping our acquaintance would cease in Barnstable. But it now became apparent that he regarded himself not only a necessary item in my welfare, but as being most essential to the achievement of my designs. So, charging me to think no more of Bessie, whom he hinted was as coy a little witch as ever waited on the table of a country tavern, and ready at all times to make love with every dashing young fellow who chanced that way, he took his departure, promising to call at noon on the next day.
Having passed the night in refreshing sleep, I was up with the sun on the following morning, and before noon had received the calls of several distinguished citizens, two or three of whom requested that I "remain over," and deliver an address on the state of the nation. Offering my inability as an apology for not complying with their request, I was surprised that so obscure a person should receive such homage. The mystery, however, was very soon explained. The major, adopting the method in fashion with some of our modern politicians, had been actively noising it about, that no greater politician than myself ever lived; and that, being on my way to Washington in search of a foreign mission, I had generously invited him to accompany me. The major was indeed building up my reputation with a view to the consolidation of his own. He had also deluded the editor of the Patriot, (who was a man much given to good jokes,) into writing several long articles in compliment of my political achievements, and which were of so serious a style, that the distant reader, unaccustomed to the tricks of editors, must have been grievously misled. And indeed such was the fact, for the political excitement makers of New York had no sooner seen the article copied into their newspapers, than they set about contriving a plan by which to rob the city treasury of some thousands of dollars, under the pretext of giving me a public reception worthy of the city and so great a man.
Toward evening, the major made his appearance in the "Independent Temperance," and handing me a copy of the New York Herald, pointed to a letter in its columns, written by one Don Fernando, who it was said hoped soon to be mayor of the city, which office many persons seriously believed had been created for the accommodation of men happily endowed with a fondness for showing their greatness, which was the case with the aspiring Don Fernando, whose light was no taper burning in a small space. The letter set forth, with many flourishes, the necessity for showing proper respect to one so distinguished in the political world. And this the major held to be a significant token of the success that awaited us. He further hinted that the next thing we should see would be a resolution introduced at the Board of Common Council, (provided a member could be found sober enough to do it,) to vote a sum of money adequate to the occasion, with an additional clause, that a committee be appointed to carry out the arrangements. But why should not a worthy servant of the people be thus honored? There were those of the honorable council who held it no harm to be liberal in the treatment of distinguished strangers, seeing that it cost them nothing, and might, by some bare possibility, afford them an opportunity of making a speech, as well as indulging a natural passion for free drinks. The major was in ecstasies with the prospect, and now disclosed to me the fact, that he had sold out his stock of tin ware for two hundred dollars, his Shanghai chickens for fifty, and his wagon for ninety, making in all three hundred and forty dollars, two hundred of which he had set apart as peace and comfort money for his wife, Polly, and the balance he had resolved to tuck nicely away in his wallet, to serve in case of emergency. We must take Duncan with us, he said, for he was a pig of wonderful parts, and deformed monstrosities being much in favor in New York, we could make a good thing of exhibiting him, which would save us against the rubs of ill fortune. As to old Battle, he had been his companion in so many wars and tin ware campaigns, that he had resolved also to take him along, though it cost a new pair of saddle-bags. And as the New York politicians were bent on doing him great honor, he would no doubt be invited to review the troops, (perhaps be escorted by the Seventh Regiment,) when, as a matter of economy, the animal would serve an excellent purpose; and, being quite as high in metal as he was in bone, he would no doubt astonish the bystanders with his proud demeanor.
There was lying in the harbor of Barnstable, bound for New York, a great, broad sterned sloop, called "The Two Marys," commanded by one Luke Snider, who was an old pilot along the coast, and as burly an old sea-dog as ever navigated the Sound. Luke's wife, a lusty wench of some forty summers, accompanied him, as mate and could steer as good a trick as any Tom Marlin that ever stood at a tiller. Indeed, Luke manned the "Two Marys" with his own family, for his two sons, who made up the crew, "went hands before the mast," while the good wife added to the office of mate that of cook. The "Two Marys" was, in addition to her other distinguishing qualities, dignified with the title of "New York Packet," and when in port always kept a sign in her rigging denoting that fact. Indeed, Captain Luke Snider was regarded an extremely sharp fellow by all who knew him, and in addition to having carried on a large trade in onions and watermelons, was a salt water politician of great influence, and could so direct the votes of his fellow craftsmen as to make him in high favor with all candidates for public office. And the major, who had an eye to the future, never let an opportunity to conciliate Luke's friendship slip, and would at times swear by him. And to further demonstrate his friendship for the versatile skipper, he now proposed that we take passage on the "Two Marys," as well for the purpose of disarming our political enemies, who might charge us with presumption did we take a more fashionable conveyance, as to carry out a genuine stroke of political economy. Feeling that objection would be useless, I consented to leave the matter entirely with him, being satisfied that so great a politician and military hero was a safe person to trust with such arrangements.
And now the morning of our departure having arrived, the bright aurora was filling the balconies of heaven with golden clouds, and all nature seemed putting on her gayest attire. Then the sun rose in all its splendor, and not a cock in town but gave out a crow, nor a dog that was a dog that did not send up a bark, nor a sparrow that didn't get into a tree top and mingle his sweet notes in the curious medley, which the major held to be in honor of his departure, the elements always being on the side of greatness.
At ten o'clock I took leave of Bessie, having sealed my affections for her with a kiss, and wiped away the tear that hung so touchingly in her eye, as she said in a subdued voice, "Perhaps we shall never, never meet again. But if you will not forget me, I will not forget you." To which I replied that death only would make me forget her, since there was written in her face loveliness so perfect, that time could only brighten it in my memory. Again she blushed, and cast upon me such a bewitching look that it almost made me falter in my resolution to leave her behind. And my faltering increased as her warm hand pressed mine, and the words, "Will you write to me, and give relief to one whose thoughts will follow you?" hung tremblingly upon her lips. But just then I saw what a great soul she had within her, and how when moved she would tread upon that dangerous brink, from which so many launch into a world of woe. I pressed her hand in return, and bade her adieu; promising never to forget her, nor allow another to beguile my fancies, but to be unto her as I felt she would be unto me-the angel of my dreams.
Hastening on board of the "Two Marys," I was received with great consideration by Captain Luke Snider, who said he was delighted at the prospect of having so distinguished a passenger, and with no little ceremony introduced me to his wife. A gentle wind blew fair, the peak of the "Two Marys'" mainsail hung in lazy folds, and the great jib, partly set, flapped every few minutes, as if eager for the great event of the major's arrival, which was waited by an anxious crowd of idlers, who had gathered on the wharf, and who were diverting themselves with divers jeers at Captain Snider, of whom it seemed they had no very high opinion. Suddenly a great noise was heard in the distance, and the rotund figure of the major, mounted upon old Battle, and dressed in a slouchy suit of Uxbridge satinet, made his appearance, followed by a mob of boys, hooting and shouting at the very top of their voices. The animal, not at all disturbed by the singular character of the ovation, moved forward at a methodical pace, whilst the major, judging from his extreme good humor, was not a little delighted at the honors he imagined were being showered upon him. No sooner did the crowd on the wharf get news of the major's approach, than they sent up a deafening shout, and hastened to meet him with so much determination to do him homage, that even old Battle began to prick up his ears. Two mischievous urchins now tied a small air balloon to old Battle's tail, while another would every few minutes switch his gambrels with a twig of thorn, and so make him jerk his hinder legs as nearly to throw the indomitable major over his head. Duncan, the pig, was led by a boy at some distance, and performed his part in the comical programme by keeping up a medley of discordant squeals. And what with the barking of dogs, who seemed to claim a right to take part in the proceedings, and the squealing of pigs, and the loud acclamations of the grotesque throng, one might have set it down as a fact that Little Barnstable was out on a frolic. As to the figure cut by the major, that may be safely left to the reader's fancy. His short legs scarce reached below old Battle's saddle girth; and, in addition to the slouchy suit of Uxbridge satinet, he wore a shabby white hat, very like that worn by Philosopher Greeley on election days. Never was departure of foreign ambassador attended with such demonstrations, all of which the major viewed as highly complimentary to him as a military politician. Having reached the end of the wharf amidst cheers and bravos, the crowd would not permit him to dismount until he had addressed them on the state of the nation. Saying it always gave him great pleasure to gratify the wishes of the people, he faced half round in his saddle, and bowed with an air of great self complacency. Then his broad, red face crimsoned, and his thoughts seemed in his beard, for after stroking and fretting it for some seconds, he spoke as follows: "Fellow-citizens: I am sure I have not merited the great homage bestowed upon me to-day. But that is neither here nor there. Let me enjoin you all to live patriots, avoiding ceremonies and performing sacrifices for your country. And above all, live as good christians, and not as fluttering butterflies, who attract only with the gay color of their plumage while they live and die soon to be forgotten. And as to the nation itself, why, may the devil get me, (and I'm no friend of his,) if I don't think all that is needed to render it safe, is just to let it alone. Nor would it be much lost if some kindly disposed gentleman would kill off a few score of our Union savers, who, like quack doctors, go about with their pockets full of plasters, and are for ever hunting for the crack in the nation's skull. And I would advise all politicians to spin less patriotic yarns, to be more modest, to learn wisdom, to drink less whiskey; in truth, to think more of God and their country, and to get them honest godfathers, who will teach them what a sad thing it is to think so much of the nation's gold." Having said this, the major stopped suddenly, and turning in his saddle, caught a glimpse of the air balloon attached to old Battle's tail, which was making curious gyrations in the air; and seeing the ludicrous figure he was cutting, he called upon all present to aid him in punishing the miscreant who dared to offer such an insult to his dignity. But the crowd only answered with jeers and acclamations, which so increased his anger that he dismounted, and, giving his pig in charge of Captain Snider, led old Battle hurriedly on board, cursed them for an unthinking set, and set sail amidst the loud acclamations of the crowd. As the "Two Marys" sped seaward, Polly Potter and her three children were seen waving their adieus from a neighboring height.