"Hang out our banners on the outward walls; "The cry is still, They come." Macbeth.
Lionel had walked from the dwelling of Mrs. Lechmere to the foot of Beacon-Hill, and had even toiled up some part of the steep ascent, before he recollected why he was thus wandering by himself at that unusual hour. Hearing, however, no sounds that denoted an immediate movement of the troops, he then yielded, unconsciously, to the nature of his sensations, which just at that moment rendered his feelings jealous of communication with others, and continued to ascend until he gained the summit of the eminence. From this elevated stand he paused to contemplate the scene which lay in the obscurity of night at his feet, while his thoughts returned from the flattering anticipations in which he had been indulging, to consider the more pressing business of the hour. There arose from the town itself a distant buzzing, like the hum of suppressed agitation, and lights were seen to glide along the streets, or flit across the windows, in a manner which denoted that a knowledge of the expedition had become general within its dwellings. Lionel turned his head toward the common, and listened long and anxiously, but in vain, to detect a single sound that could betray any unusual stir among the soldiery. Towards the interior, the darkness of night had fallen heavily, dimming the amphitheatre of hills that encircled the place, and enshrouding the vales and lowlands between them and the water with an impenetrable veil of gloom. There were moments, indeed, when he imagined he overheard some indications among the people of the opposite shore that they were apprised of the impending descent, but on listening more attentively, the utmost of which his ear could assure him, was the faint lowing of cattle from the meadows, or the plash of oars from a line of boats, which, by stretching far along the shores, told both the nature and the extent of the watchfulness that was deemed necessary for the occasion.
While Lionel stood thus, on the margin of the little platform of earth that had been formed by levelling the apex of the natural cone, musing on the probable results of the measure his superiors had been resolving to undertake, a dim light shed itself along the grass, and glancing upward, danced upon the beacon with strong and playful rays.
"Scoundrel!" exclaimed a man, springing from his place of concealment, at the foot of the post, and encountering him face to face, "do you dare to fire the beacon?"
"I would answer by asking how you dare to apply so rude an epithet to me, did I not see the cause of your error," said Lionel. "The light is from yonder moon, which is just emerging from the ocean."
"Ah! I see my error," returned his rough assailant— "by heavens, I would have sworn at first, 'twas the beacon."
"You must then believe in the traditional witchcraft of this country, for nothing short of necromancy could have enabled me to light those combustibles at this distance."
"I don't know; 'tis a strange people we have got amongst—they stole the cannon from the gunhouse here, a short time since, when I would have said the thing was impossible. It was before your arrival, sir; for I now believe I address myself to Major Lincoln, of the 27th."
"You are nearer the truth, this time, than in your first conjecture as to my character," said Lionel; "but have I met one of the gentlemen of our mess?"
The stranger now explained that he was a subaltern in a different regiment, but that he well knew the person of the other. He added that he had been ordered to watch on the hill to prevent any of the inhabitants lighting the beacon, or making any other signal which might convey into the country a knowledge of the contemplated inroad.
"This matter wears a more serious aspect than I had supposed," returned Lionel, when the young man had ended his apologies and explanation; "the commander-in-chief must intend more than we are aware of, by employing officers in this manner, to do the duties of privates."
"We poor subs know but little, and care less what he means," cried the ensign; "though I will acknowledge that I can see no sufficient reason why British troops should put on coats of darkness to march against a parcel of guessing, canting, countrymen, who would run at the sight of their uniforms under a bright sun. Had I my will, the tar above us, there, should blaze a mile high, to bring down the heroes from Connecticut river; the dogs would cow before two full companies of grenadiers—ha! listen, sir; there they go, now, the pride of our army! I know them by their heavy tread."
Lionel did listen attentively, and plainly distinguished the measured step of a body of disciplined men, moving rapidly across the common, as if marching towards the water-side. Hastily bidding his companion good-night, he threw himself over the brow of the hill, and taking the direction of the sounds, he arrived at the shore at the same instant with the troops. Two dark masses of human bodies were halted in order, and as Lionel skirted the columns, his experienced eye judged that the force collected before him, could be but little short of a thousand men. A group of officers was clustered on the beach, and he approached it, rightly supposing that it was gathered about the leader of the party. This officer proved to be the Lieutenant-Colonel of the 10th, who was in close conversation with the old Major of Marines, alluded to by the sentinel who stood before the gates of Province-house. To the former of these the young soldier addressed himself, demanding leave to accompany the detachment as a volunteer. After a few words of explanation, his request was granted, though each forbore to touch in the slightest manner on the secret objects of the expedition.
Lionel now found his groom, who had followed the troops with his master's horses, and after giving his orders to the man, he proceeded in quest of his friend Polwarth, who he soon discovered, posted in all the stiffness of military exactness, at the head of the leading platoon of the column of light-infantry. As it was apparent, both from the position they occupied, as well as by the boats that had been collected at the point, that the detachment was not to leave the peninsula by its ordinary channel of communication with the country, there remained no alternative but to await patiently the order to embark. The delay was but short, and, as the most perfect order was observed, the troops were soon seated, and the boats pulled heavily from the land, just as the rays of the moon, which had been sometime playing among the hills, and gilding the spires of the town, diffused themselves softly over the bay, and lighted the busy scene, with an effect not unlike the sudden rising of the curtain at the opening of some interesting drama. Polwarth had established himself by the side of Lionel, much to the ease of his limbs, and as they moved slowly into the light, all those misgivings which had so naturally accompanied his musings on the difficulties of a partisan irruption, vanished before the loveliness of the time, and possibly before the quietude of the action.
"There are moments when I could fancy the life of a sailor," he said, leaning indolently back, and playing with one hand in the water—"this pulling about in boats is easy work, and must be capital assistance for a heavy digestion, inasmuch as it furnishes air with as little violent exercise as may-be—your marine should lead a merry life of it!"
"They are said to murmur at the clashing of their duties with those of the sea-officers," said Lionel; "and I have often heard them complain of a want of room to make use of their legs."
"Humph!" ejaculated Polwarth; "the leg is a part of a man for which I see less actual necessity than for any other portion of his frame. I often think there has been a sad mistake in the formation of the animal; as, for instance, one can be a very good waterman, as you see, without legs—a good fiddler, a first-rate tailor, a lawyer, a doctor, a parson, a very tolerable cook, and in short, any thing but a dancing master. I see no use in a leg unless it be to have the gout—at any rate, a leg of twelve inches is as good as one a mile long, and the saving might be appropriated to the nobler parts of the animal; such as the brain and the stomach."
"You forget the officer of light-infantry," said Lionel, laughing.
"You might give him a couple of inches more; though, as every thing in this wicked world, is excellent only by comparison, it would amount to the same thing, and on my system a man would be just as fit for the light-infantry without, as with legs; and he would get rid of a good deal of troublesome manoeuvring, especially of this new exercise. It would then become a delightful service, Leo; for it may be said to monopolize all the poetry of military life, as you may see. Neither the imagination nor the body can require more than we enjoy at this moment, and of what use, I would ask, are our legs? if any thing, they are incumbrances in this boat. Here we have a soft moon, and softer seats—smooth water, and a stimulating air—on one side a fine country, which, though but faintly seen, is known to be fertile, and rich to abundance; and on the other a picturesque town, stored with the condiments of every climate—even those rascally privates look mellowed by the moon-beams, with their scarlet coats and glittering arms! Did you meet Miss Danforth in your visit to Tremont-street, Major Lincoln?"
"That pleasure was not denied me."
"Knew she of these martial proceedings?"
"There was something exceedingly belligerent in her humour."
"Spoke she of the light-infantry, or of any who serve in the light corps?"
"Your name was certainly mentioned," returned Lionel, a little dryly—"she intimated that the hen-roosts were in danger."
"Ah! she is a girl of a million! her very acids are sweet! the spices were not forgotten when the dough of her composition was mixed; would that she were here—five minutes of moon-shine to a man in love is worth a whole summer of a broiling sun—'twould be a master-stroke to entice her into one of our picturesque marches; your partisan is the man to take every thing by surprise—women and fortifications! Where now are your companies of the line; your artillery and dragoons; your engineers and staff! night-capped and snoring to a man, while we enjoy here the very dessert of existence—I wish I could hear a nightingale!"
"You have a solitary whip-poor-will whistling his notes, as if in lamentation at our approach."
"Too dolorous, and by far too monotonous; 'tis like eating pig for a month. But why are our fifes asleep?"
"The precautions of a whole day should hardly be defeated by the tell-tale notes of our music," said Lionel; "your spirits get the better of your discretion. I should think the prospect of a fatiguing march would have lowered your vein."
"A fico for fatigue!" exclaimed Polwarth— "we only go out to take a position at the colleges to cover our supplies—we are for school, Leo— only fancy the knapsacks of the men to be satchels, humour my folly, and you may believe yourself once more a boy."
The spirits of Polwarth had indeed undergone a sudden change, when he found the sad anticipations which crossed his mind on first hearing of a night inroad, so agreeably disappointed by the comfortable situation he occupied; and he continued conversing in the manner described, until the boats reached an unfrequented point that projected a little way into that part of the Bay which washed the western side of the peninsula of Boston. Here the troops landed, and were again formed with all possible despatch. The company of Polwarth was posted, as before, at the head of the column of light-infantry, and an officer of the staff riding a short distance in front, it was directed to follow his movements. Lionel ordered his groom to take the route of the troops with the horses, and placing himself once more by the side of the captain, they proceeded at the appointed signal.
"Now for the shades of old Harvard!" said Polwarth, pointing towards the humble buildings of the university; "you shall feast this night on reason, while I will make a more sub—ha! what can that blind quarter-master mean by taking this direction! Does he not see that the meadows are half covered with water!"
"Move on, move on with the light-infantry," cried the stern voice of the old major of marines, who rode but a short distance in their rear. "Do you falter at the sight of water!"
"We are not wharf-rats," said Polwarth.
Lionel seized him by the arm, and before the disconcerted captain had time to recollect himself, he was borne through a wide pool of stagnant water, mid-leg deep.
"Do not let your romance cost your commission," said the major, as Polwarth floundered out of his difficulties; "here is an incident at once for your private narrative of the campaign."
"Ah! Leo," said the captain, with a sort of comical sorrow, "I fear we are not to court the muses by this hallowed moon to-night!"
"You can assure yourself of that, by observing that we leave the academical roofs on our left— our leaders take the high-way."
They had by this time extricated themselves from the meadows, and were moving on a road which led into the interior.
"You had better order up your groom, and mount, Major Lincoln," said Polwarth, sullenly; "a man need husband his strength, I see."
"'Twould be folly now; I am wet, and must walk for safety."
With the departure of Polwarth's spirits the conversation began to flag, and the gentlemen continued their march with only such occasional communications as arose from the passing incidents of their situation. It very soon became apparent, both by the direction given to the columns, as well as by the hurried steps of their guide, that the march was to be forced, as well as of some length. But as the air was getting cool, even Polwarth was not reluctant to warm his chilled blood by more than ordinary exertion. The columns opened for the sake of ease, and each man was permitted to consult his own convenience, provided he preserved his appointed situation, and kept even pace with his comrades. In this manner the detachment advanced swiftly, a general silence pervading the whole, as the spirits of the men settled into that deep sobriety which denotes much earnestness of purpose. At first the whole country appeared buried in a general sleep, but as they proceeded, the barking of the dogs, and the tread of the soldiery, drew the inhabitants of the farm-houses to their windows, who gazed in mute wonder at the passing spectacle, across which the mellow light of the moon cast a glow of brilliancy. Lionel had turned his head from studying the surprise depicted in the faces of the members of one of these disturbed families, when the deep tones of a distant church-bell came sweeping down the valley in which they marched, ringing peel on peel, in the quick, spirit-stirring sounds of an alarm. The men raised their heads in wondering attention, as they advanced; but it was not long before the reports of fire-arms were heard echoing among the hills, and bell began to answer bell in every direction, until the sounds blended with the murmurs of the night-air, or were lost in distance. The whole country was now filled with every organ of sound that the means of the people furnished, or their ingenuity could devise, to call the population to arms. Fires blazed along the heights, the bellowing of the conchs and horns, mingled with the rattling of the muskets and the varied tones of the bells, while the swift clattering of horses' hoofs began to be heard, as if their riders were dashing furiously along the flanks of the party.
"Push on, gentlemen, push on," shouted the old veteran of marines, amid the din. "The Yankees have awoke, and are stirring—we have yet a long road to journey—push on, light-infantry, the grenadiers are on your heels!"
The advance quickened their steps, and the whole body pushed for their unknown object with as much rapidity as the steadiness of military array would admit. In this manner the detachment continued to proceed for some hours, without halting, and Lionel imagined that they had advanced several leagues into the country. The sounds of the alarm had now passed away, having swept far inland, until the faintest evidence of its existence was lost to the ear, though the noise of horsemen, riding furiously along the by-ways, yet denoted that men were still hurrying past them, to the scene of the expected strife. As the deceitful light of the moon was blending with the truer colours of day, the welcome sound of `halt!' was passed from the rear up to the head of the column of light-infantry.
"Halt!" repeated Polwarth, with instinctive readiness, and with a voice that sent the order through the whole length of their extended line; "halt, and let the rear close; if my judgment in walking be worth so much as an anchovy, they are some miles behind us, by this time! a man needs to have crossed his race with the blood of Flying Childers for this sort of work! The next command should be to break our fasts—Tom, you brought the trifles I sent you from Major Lincoln's quarters?"
"Yes, Sir," returned his man; "they are on the Major's horses, in the rear, as—"
"The Major's horses in the rear, you ass, when food is in such request in the front! I wonder, Leo, if a mouthful couldn't be picked up in yon farm-house?"
"Pick yourself off that stone, and make the men dress; here is Pitcairn closing to the front with the whole battalion."
Lionel had hardly spoken before an order was passed to the light-infantry to look to their arms, and for the grenadiers to prime and load. The presence of the veteran who rode in front of the column, and the hurry of the moment, suppressed the complaints of Polwarth, who was in truth an excellent officer as it respected what he himself termed the `quiescent details of service.' Three or four companies of the light-corps were detached from the main body, and formed in the open marching order of their exercise, when the old marine, placing himself at their head, gave forth the order to advance again at a quick step. The road now led into a vale, and at some distance a small hamlet of houses was dimly seen through the morning haze, clustered around one of the humble, but decent temples, so common in Massachusetts. The halt, and the brief preparations that succeeded, had excited a powerful interest in the whole of the detachment, who pushed earnestly forward, keeping on the heels of the charger of their veteran leader, as he passed over the ground at a small trot. The air partook of the scent of morning, and the eye was enabled to dwell distinctly on surrounding objects, quickening, aided by the excitement of the action, the blood of the men who had been toiling throughout the night in uncertain obscurity along an unknown, and, apparently, interminable road. Their object now seemed before them and attainable, and they pressed forward to achieve it in animated but silent earnestness. The plain architecture of the church and of its humble companions had just become distinct, when three or four armed horsemen were seen attempting to anticipate their arrival, by crossing the head of the column, from a by-path.
"Come in," cried an officer of the staff in front, "come in, or quit the place."
The men turned, and rode briskly off, one of their party flashing his piece in a vain attempt to give the alarm. A low mandate was now passed through the ranks to push on, and in a few moments they entered on a full view of the hamlet, the church, and the little green on which it stood. The forms of men were seen moving swiftly across the latter, as a roll of a drum broke from the spot; and there were glimpses of a small body of countrymen, drawn up in the affectation of military parade.
"Push on, light-infantry!" cried their leader, spurring his horse, and advancing with the staff at so brisk a trot, as to disappear round an angle of the church.
Lionel pressed forward with a beating heart for a crowd of horrors rushed across his imagination at the moment, when the stern voice of the major of marines was again heard, shouting—
"Disperse, ye rebels, disperse!—throw down your arms, and disperse!"
These memorable words were instantly followed by the reports of pistols, and the fatal mandate of `fire!' when a loud shout arose from the whole body of the soldiery, who rushed upon the open green, and threw in a close discharge on all before them.
"Great God!" exclaimed Lionel, "what is it you do? ye fire at unoffending men! is there no law but force! beat up their pieces, Polwarth— stop their fire."
"Halt!" cried Polwarth, brandishing his sword fiercely among his men; "come to an order, or I'll fell ye to the earth."
But the excitement which had been gathering to a head for so many hours, and the animosity which had so long been growing between the troops and the people, were not to be repressed at a word. It was only when Pitcairn himself rode in among the soldiers, and, aided by his officers, beat down their arms, that the uproar was gradually quelled, and something like order was again restored. Before this was effected, however, a few scattering shot were thrown back from their flying adversaries, though without material injury to the British.
When the firing had ceased, officers and men stood gazing at each other for a few moments, as if even they could foresee some of the mighty events which were to follow the deeds of that hour. The smoke slowly arose, like a lifted veil from the green, and mingling with the fogs of morning, drove heavily across the country, as if to communicate the fatal intelligence that the final appeal to arms had been made. Every eye was bent inquiringly on the fatal green, and Lionel beheld, with a feeling allied to anguish, a few men at a distance, writhing and struggling in their wounds, while some five or six bodies lay stretched upon the grass, in the appalling quiet of death. Sickening at the sight, he turned, and walked away by himself, while the remainder of the troops, alarmed by the reports of the arms, were eagerly pressing up from the rear to join their comrades. Unwittingly he approached the church, nor did he awake from the deep abstraction into which he had fallen, until he was aroused by the extraordinary spectacle of Job Pray, issuing from the edifice with an air in which menace was singularly blended with resentment and fear. The changeling pointed earnestly to the body of a man, who, having been wounded, had crept for refuge near to the door of the temple in which he had so often worshipped that being to whom he had been thus hurriedly sent to render his last and great account, and said solemnly—
"You have killed one of God's creatures; and he'll remember it!"
"I would it were one only," said Lionel; "but they are many, and none can tell where the carnage is to cease."
"Do you think," said Job, looking furtively around to assure himself that no other overheard him, "that the king can kill men in the Bay-colony as he can in London? They'll take this up in old Funnel, and 'twill ring again, from the north-end to the Neck."
"What can they do, boy, after all," said Lionel, forgetting at the moment that he whom he addressed had been denied the reason of his kind— "the power of Britain is too mighty for these scattered and unprepared colonies to cope with and prudence would tell the people to desist from resistance while yet they may."
"Does the king believe there is more prudence in London than there is in Boston?" returned the simpleton; "he needn't think, because the people were quiet at the massacre, there'll be no stir about this—you have killed one of God's creatures," added the lad, "and he'll remember it!"
"How came you here, sirrah?" demanded Lionel, suddenly recollecting himself; "did you not tell me that you were going out to fish for your mother."
"And if I did," returned the other, sullenly, "an't there fish in the ponds as well as in the bay, and can't Nab have a fresh taste?—Job don't know there is any act of Parliament ag'in taking brook trout."
"Fellow, you are attempting to deceive me! Some one is practising on your ignorance, and knowing you to be a fool, is employing you on errands that may one day cost your life."
"The king can't send Job on a'r'nds," said the lad proudly; "for there is no law for it, and Job wont go."
"Your knowledge will undo you, simpleton— who should teach you these niceties of the law?"
"Why, do you think the Boston people so dumb as not to know the law!" asked Job, with unfeigned astonishment—"and Ralph, too—he knows as much law as the king—he told me it was ag'in all law to shoot at the minute-men, unless they fired first, because the colony has a right to train whenever it pleases."
"Ralph!" said Lionel, eagerly—"can Ralph be with you, then! 'tis impossible; I left him ill, and at home—neither would he mingle in such a business as this, at his years."
"I expect Ralph has seen bigger armies than the light-infantry, and grannies, and all the soldiers left in town put together," said Job, evasively.
Lionel was far too generous to practise on the simplicity of his companion, with a view to extract any secret which might endanger his liberty, but he felt a deep concern in the welfare of a young man who had been thrown in his way in the manner already related. He therefore pursued the subject, with the double design to advise Job against any dangerous connexions, and to relieve his own anxiety on the subject of the aged stranger. But to all his interrogatories the lad answered guardedly, and with a discretion which denoted that he possessed no small share of cunning, though a higher order of intellect had been denied him.
"I repeat to you," said Lionel, losing his patience, "that it is important for me to meet the man you call Ralph in the country, and I wish to know if he is to be seen near here."
"Ralph scorns a lie," returned Job—"go where he promised to meet you, and see if he don't come."
"But no place was named—and this unhappy event may embarrass him, or frighten him—"
"Frighten him!" repeated Job, shaking his head with solemn earnestness; "you can't frighten Ralph!"
"His daring may prove his misfortune. Boy, I ask you for the last time whether the old man—"
Perceiving Job to shrink back timidly, and lower in his looks, Lionel paused, and casting a glance behind him, beheld the captain of grenadiers standing with folded arms, silently contemplating the body of the American.
"Will you have the goodness to explain to me, Major Lincoln," said the captain, when he perceived himself observed, "why this man lies here dead?"
"You see the wound in his breast?"
"It is a palpable and baistly truth that he has been shot—but why, or with what design?"
"I must leave that question to be answered by our superiors, captain M`Fuse," returned Lionel. "It is, however, rumoured that the expedition is out to seize certain magazines of provisions and arms, which the colonists have been collecting, it is feared, with hostile intentions."
"I had my own sagacious thoughts that we were bent on some such glorious errand!" said M`Fuse, with strong contempt expressed in his hard features. "Tell me, Major Lincoln—you are certainly but a young soldier, though, being of the staff, you should know—does Gage think we can have a war with the arms and ammunition all on one side? We have had a long p'ace, Major Lincoln, and now when there is a small prospect of some of the peculiarities of our profession arising, we are commanded to do the very thing which is most likely to def'ate the object of war."
"I do not know that I rightly understand you, sir," said Lionel; "there can be but little glory gained by such troops as we possess, in a contest with the unarmed and undisciplined inhabitants of any country."
"Exactly my maining, sir; it is quite obvious that we understand each other thoroughly, without a world of circumlocution. The lads are doing very well at present, and if left to themselves a few months longer, it may become a creditable affair. You know, as well as I do, Major Lincoln, that time is necessary to make a soldier, and if they are hurried into the business, you might as well be chasing a mob up Ludgate hill, for the honour you will gain. A discrate officer would nurse this little matter, instead of resorting to such precipitation. To my id'a'a's, sir, the man before us has been butchered, and not slain in honourable battle!"
"There is much reason to fear that others may use the same term in speaking of the affair," returned Lionel; "God knows how much cause we may have to lament the death of the poor man!"
"On that topic, the man may be said to have gone through a business that was to be done, and is not to be done over again," said the captain very coolly, "and therefore his death can be no very great calamity to himself, whatever it may be to us. If these minute-men, and as they stand but minute they 'arn their name like worthy fellows— if these minute-men, sir, stood in your way, you should have whipped them from the green with your ramrods."
"Here is one who may tell you that they are not to be treated like children either," said Lionel, turning to the place which had been so recently occupied by Job Pray, but which, to his surprise, he now found vacant. While he was yet looking around him, wondering whither the lad could so suddenly have withdrawn, the drums beat the signal to form, and a general bustle among the soldiery, showed them to be on the eve of further movements. The two gentlemen instantly rejoined their companions, walking thoughtfully towards the troops, though influenced by such totally different views of the recent transactions.
During the short halt of the advance, the whole detachment was again united, and a hasty meal had been taken. The astonishment which succeeded the rencontre, had given place, among the officers, to a military pride, capable of sustaining them in much more arduous circumstances. Even the ardent looks of professional excitement were to be seen in most of their countenances, as with glittering arms, waving banners, and timing their march to the enlivening music of their band, they wheeled from the fatal spot, and advanced again, with proud and measured steps, along the highway. If such was the result of the first encounter on the lofty and tempered spirits of the gentlemen of the detachment, its effect on the common hirelings in the ranks, was still more palpable and revolting. Their coarse jests, and taunting looks, as they moved by the despised victims of their disciplined skill, together with the fierce and boastful expression of brutal triumph, which so many among them betrayed, exhibited the infallible evidence, that having tasted of blood, they were now ready, like tigers, to feed on it till they were glutted.
