The rose of England bloom'd on Gertrude's cheek——
What though these shades had seen her birth, her sire
A Briton's Independence taught to seek
Far Western worlds; and there his household fire
The light of social love did long inspire,
And many a huleyon day he liv'd to see
Unbroken, but by one misfortune dire,
When fate had reft his mutual heart——but she
Was gone——and Gertrude climb'd a widow'd father's knee.
—— Gertrude of WyomingThe father of Mr. Wharton was a native of England; and of a family, whose parliamentary interest, had enabled them to provide for a younger son, in the colony of New-York. The young man, like hundreds of others in his situation, had settled permanently in the country. He married, and the sole issue of his connexion had been sent, early in life, to receive the benefits of the English schools. After taking his degrees at one of the universities of the mother country, the youth had been suffered to acquire a knowledge of life, with the advantages of European society. But the death of his father recalled him, after passing two years in this manner, to the possession of an honorable name, and very ample estate.
It was much the fashion of that day, to place the youth, of certain families, in the army or navy of England, as the regular stepping-stones to preferment. Most of the higher offices in the colonies, were filled by men who had made arms their profession; and it was no uncommon sight to see a veteran warrior laying aside the sword, to assumethe ermine on the benches of the highest judicial authority.
In conformity with this system, the senior Mr. Wharton had intended his son for a soldier, but a natural imbecility of character in his child, had interfered with his wishes.
A twelvemonth had been spent by the young man, in weighing the advantages of the different description of troops, among which he was to serve, when the death of his father occurred. The ease of his situation, and the attentions lavished upon a youth, in the actual enjoyment of one of the largest estates in the colonies, interfered greatly with his ambitious projects. Love decided the matter——and Mr. Wharton, in becoming a husband, ceased to think of becoming a soldier. For many years he continued happy in his family, and respected, by his countrymen, as a man of integrity and consequence, when all his enjoyments vanished, as it were, at a blow. His only son, the youth introduced in the preceding chapter, had entered the army, and had arrived in his native country but a short time before the commencement of hostilities, with the re-inforcements the ministry had thought it prudent to throw into the disaffected parts of North America. His daughters were just growing into life, and their education required all the advantages the city could afford. His wife had been, for some years, in declining health, and had barely time to fold her son to her bosom, and rejoice in the re-union of her family, before the revolution burst forth, in a continued blaze, from Georgia to Maine. The shock was too much for the feeble condition of the mother, who saw her child called to the field, to combat against the members of her own family in the South; and she sunk under the blow.
There was no part of the continent where themanners of England, and its aristocratic notions of blood and alliances, prevailed with more force, than in a certain circle immediately around the metropolis of New-York. The customs of the early Dutch inhabitants had, indeed, blended, in some measure, with the English manners; but still the latter prevailed. This was increased by the frequent inter-marriages of the officers of the mother country, with the wealthier and more powerful families of the vicinity, until, at the commencement of hostilities, their united influence had very nearly thrown the colony into the scales, on the side of the crown. A few, however, of the leading families espoused the cause of the people; and a sufficient stand was made against the efforts of the ministerial party, to organize, and, aided by the army of the confederation, to maintain an independent and republican form of government.
The city of New-York, and the adjacent territory, were alone exempted from the rule of the new commonwealth; and the royal authority extended no further than its dignity could be supported by the presence of an army. In this condition of things, the loyalists, of consequence, adopted such measures, as best accorded with their different characters and situations. Many bore arms in support of the ancient laws; and, by their bravery and exertion, endeavoured to secure what they deemed the rights of their prince, and their own estates from confiscation. Others left the country; seeking, in that place they emphatically called home, an asylum, as they fondly hoped, for a season only, against the confusion and dangers of war. A third, and more wary portion, remained in the place of their nativity, with a prudent regard to their ample possessions, and, perhaps, influenced by their attachments to the scenes of their youth. Mr. Wharton was of this description. Aftermaking a provision against future contingencies, by secretly transmitting the whole of his money to the British funds, this gentleman determined to continue in the theatre of strife, and to maintain so strict a neutrality, as to insure the safety of his large estate, whichever party succeeded. He was apparently engrossed in the education of his daughters, when a relation, high in office in the new state, intimated, that a residence in what was now a British camp, differed but little, in the eyes of his countrymen, from a residence in the British capital. Mr. Wharton soon saw this was an unpardo able offence in the existing state of things, and instantly determined to remove the difficulty by retiring to the country. He possessed a convenient residence in the county of West-Chester, and having been for many years in the habit of withdrawing thither, during the heats of the summer months, it was kept furnished, and ready for his accommodation. His eldest daughter was already admitted into the society of women; but Frances, the younger, required a year or two more of the usual cultivation, to appear with proper eclat——at least so thought Miss Jeanette Peyton; and as this lady, a younger sister of their deceased mother, had left her paternal home, in the colony of Virginia, with the devotedness and affection peculiar to her sex, to superintend the welfare of her orphan nieces, Mr. Wharton felt her opinions were entitled to profound respect. In conformity to her advice, therefore, the feelings of the parent were made to yield to the welfare of his children.
Mr. Wharton withdrew to the "Locusts," with a heart rent with the pain of separating from all that was left to him of a wife he had adored, but in obedience to a constitutional prudence that pleadly loudly in behalf of his wordly goods. His handsome town residence was inhabited, in themeanwhile, by his daughters and their aunt. The regiment to which Captain Wharton belonged, formed part of the permanent garrison of the city, and the knowledge of the presence of his son was no little relief to the father, in his unceasing meditations on his absent daughters. But Captain Wharton was a young man, and a soldier; his estimate of character was not always the wisest, and his propensities led him to imagine, that a red coat never concealed a dishonorable heart.
The house of Mr. Wharton became a fashionable lounge to the officers of the royal army, in common with those, of every other family, thought worthy of their notice. The consequences of this association were, to some few of the visited, fortunate——to more, injurious, by exciting expectations which were never to be realized, and, unhappily, to no small number ruinous. The known wealth of the father, and, possibly, the presence of a high-spirited brother, forbid any apprehension of the latter danger to the young ladies; but it was impossible for all the admiration, bestowed on the fine figure and lovely face of Sarah Wharton, to be thrown away. Her person was formed with the early maturity of the climate, and a strict cultivation of the graces had made her, decidedly, the belle of the city. No one promised to dispute with her this female sovereignty, unless it might be her younger sister. Frances, however, wanted some months to the charmed age of sixteen; and the idea of competition was far from the minds of either of the affectionate girls. Indeed, next to the conversation of Colonel Wellmere, the greatest pleasure of Sarah was in contemplating the budding beauties of the little Hebe, who played around her with all the innocency of youth, with all the enthusiasm of her ardent temper, and with no little of the archness of her native humourWhether it was, that Frances received none of the compliments which fell to the lot of her elder sister, in the often repeated discussions on the merits of the war, between the military beaux who frequented the house; it is certain their effects on the sisters were exactly opposite. It was much the fashion, then, for the British officers to speak slightingly of their enemies; and Sarah took all the idle vapourings of her danglers to be truths. The first political opinions which reached the ears of Frances, were coupled with sneers on the conduct of her countrymen. At first she believed them; but there was occasionally a general, who was obliged to do justice to his enemy, in order to obtain justice for himself, and Frances became somewhat sceptical on the subject of her countrymen's inefficiency. Colonel Wellmere was among those who delighted most in expending his wit on the unfortunate Americans, and, in time, Frances began to listen to his eloquence with great suspicion, and some little resentment.
It was on a hot sultry day, the three were sitting in the parlour of Mr. Wharton's house, the Coloned and Sarah, seated on a sofa, engaged in one of their combats of the eyes, aided by no little flow of small talk, and Frances, occupied at her tambouring frame, in an opposite corner of the room, when the gentleman suddenly exclaimed——
"How gay the arrival of the army under General Burgoyne will make the city, Miss Wharton."
"Oh! how pleasant it must be," said the thoughtless Sarah, in reply; "I am told there are many charming women with that army; as you say, it will make us all life and gaiety."
Frances shook back the abundance of her golden hair, and raised from the work her eyes, dancing with the ardor of her national feeling, andlaughing, with a kind of concealed humour, as she asked——
"Is it then so certain, that General Burgoyne will be permitted to reach the city?"
"Permitted!" echoed the Colonel, in affected surprise; "who is there to prevent it, if he wishes it himself, my pretty Miss Fanny?"
Frances was at precisely that age, when young people are most jealous of their station in society; neither quite a woman, nor yet a child. The "pretty Miss Fanny" was rather too familiar to be relished; and she dropped her eyes on her work again, with cheeks that glowed with crimson, as she continued very gravely——
"General Stark took the Germans into custody ——may not General Gates think the British too dangerous to go at large?"
"Oh! they were Germans, as you say," cried the Colonel, excessively vexed at the necessity of explaining at all, "mere mercenary troops; but, when the really British regiments come in question, you will see a very different result."
"Of that there is no doubt," cried Sarah, without in the least partaking of the resentment of the Colonel to her sister, but hailing already in her heart the triumph of the British.
"Pray, Colonel Wellmere," said Frances, recovering her good humour, and raising her joyous eyes once more to the face of the gentleman, "was the Lord Percy of Lexington, a kinsman of him who fought at Chevy Chase?"
"Why, Miss Fanny, you are becoming a rebel," said the Colonel, endeavouring to laugh away the anger he felt; "what you are pleased to insinuate as a chase at Lexington, was nothing more than a judicious retreat——a——kind of——"
"Running——fight," interrupted the good-humouredgirl, laying great emphasis on the first word.
"Positively, young lady——" Colonel Wellmere was interrupted by a laugh from a person who had hitherto been unnoticed.
There was a small family apartment adjoining the room occupied by the trio, and the air had blown open the door communicating between the two. A fine young man was now seen sitting near the entrance, and, by his smiling countenance, evidently a pleased listener to the foregoing conversation. He rose instantly, and coming through the door, with his hat in his hand, appeared a tall graceful youth, of dark complexion, and sparkling eyes of black, from which the mirth had not yet entirely vanished, as he made his bow to the ladies.
"Mr. Dunwoodie!" cried Sarah, in surprise, "I was ignorant of your being in the house; you will find a cooler seat in this room."
"I thank you," replied the young man, "but I must go and seek your brother, who placed me there in ambuscade, as he called it, with a promise of returning an hour ago." Without making any further explanation, he bowed politely to the young women——distantly, and with hauteur, to the gentleman, and withdrew. Frances followed him into the hall, and blushing richly, inquired, in a hurried voice——
"But why——why do you leave us, Mr. Dunwoodie——Henry must soon return."
The gentleman caught one of her hands in his own, and the stern expression of his countenance, gave place to a look of admiration, as he replied——
"You managed him famously, my dear little kinswoman——never——no never, forget the land of your birth——remember, Miss Wharton, if you are the grand-daughter of an Englishman, you are, also, the grand-daughter of a Peyton."
"Oh!" returned the laughing girl, "it would be difficult to forget that, with the constant lectures on genealogy before me, with which aunt Jeanette favours me——but why do you go?"
"I am on the wing for Virginia, and have much to do"——he pressed her hand as he spoke, and looking back, while in the act of closing the door, exclaimed, "be true to your country——be American." The ardent girl kissed her hand to him, as he retired, and then instantly applying it with its beautiful fellow to her burning cheeks, ran into her own apartment to hide her confusion.
Between the open sarcasm of Frances, and the ill-concealed disdain of the young man, Colonel Wellmere had felt himself placed in an awkward predicament; but ashamed to resent such trifles, and in the presence of his mistress——he satisfied himself with observing superciliously, as Dunwoodie left the room——
"Quite a liberty for a youth in his situation—— a shop-boy with a bundle, I fancy."
The idea of picturing the elegant and graceful Peyton Dunwoodie as a shop-boy, could never enter the mind of Sarah, and she looked around her in surprise, when the Colonel continued:——
"Dunwoodie! Oh no——he is a relation of my aunt's," cried the young lady, "and an intimate friend of my brother; they were at school together, and only separated in England, when one went into the army, and the other to a French military academy."
"His money appears to have been thrown away," observed the Colonel, showing the spleen he was unsuccessfully striving to conceal.
"We ought to hope so," added Sarah, with a smile; "for it is said he intends joining the rebel army——he was brought in here in a Freneh ship,and has just been exchanged——you may soon meet him in arms."
"Well let him——I wish Washington plenty of such heroes"——and he turned to a more pleasant subject, by changing the discourse to themselves. A few weeks had elapsed after this scene occurred, and the army of Burgoyne laid down their arms. Mr. Wharton, beginning to think the result of the contest to be doubtful, resolved to conciliate his countrymen, and gratify himself, by taking his daughters into his own abode. Miss Peyton consented to be their companion; and from that time, until the period at which we commenced our narrative, they had formed one family.
Whenever the main army had made any movements, Capt. Wharton had, of course, accompanied it; and once or twice, under the protection of strong parties, acting in the neighbourhood of the Locusts, he had enjoyed rapid and stolen interviews with his friends. A twelvemonth had however passed without his seeing them; and the impatient Henry had adopted the disguise we have mentioned, and unfortunately arrived on the very evening an unknown and rather suspicious guest was the inmate of a house, that seldom contained any others than its regular inhabitants.
"But, do you think he suspects me?" asked the captain, with anxiety, after pausing to listen to Cæsar's opinion of the Skinners.
"How should he?" cried Sarah, "when your sisters and father could not penetrate your disguise."
"There is something mysterious in his manner; his looks are too prying for an indifferent observer," continued young Wharton thoughtfully, "and his face seems familiar to me——the recent fate ofAndré has created much irritation on both sides. Sir Henry threatens retaliation for his death; and Washington is as firm as if half the world were at his command. The rebels would think me a fit subject for their plans just now, should I be so unlucky as to fall into their hands."
"But, my son," cried his father, in great alarm, "you are not a spy——you are not within the rebel——that is, the American lines;——there is nothing here to spy."
"That might be disputed," rejoined the young man, musing; "their picquets were out at the White Plains when I passed through in disguise. It is true, my purposes are innocent; but how is it to appear. My visit to you would seem a cloak to other designs. Remember, sir, the treatment received by yourself, not a year ago, for sending me a supply of fruit for the winter."
"That proceeded from the misrepresentations of my kind neighbours," said Mr. Wharton, "who hoped, by getting my estate confiscated, to purchase good farms, at low prices.——Peyton Dunwoodie, however, soon obtained our discharge—— we were detained but a mouth."——
"We!" repeated the son, in amazement, "did they take my sisters also?——Fanny, you wrote me nothing of this."
"I believe," said Frances, colouring highly, "I mentioned the kind treatment received from your old friend, Major Dunwoodie; and that he procured my father's release."——
"True;——but were you with him in the rebel camp?"——
"Yes," said the father, kindly; "Fanny would not suffer me to go alone. Jeanette and Sarah took charge of the Locusts, and this little girl was my companion in captivity."
"And Fanny returned from such a scene agreater rebel than ever," cried Sarah, indignantly; "one would think the hardships her father suffered would have cured her of such whims."
"What say you to the charge, my bonny sister?" cried the Captain, gaily;——"Did Peyton strive to make you hate your king, more than he does himself?"
"Peyton Dunwoodie hates no one," said Frances, quickly; and, blushing at her own ardor, she added immediately, "he loves you Henry, I know, for he has told me so again and again."
Young Wharton tapped his sister on the cheek, with a shrewd smile, as he asked her, in an affected whisper,——"Did he tell you also that he loved my little sister Fanny?"
"Nonsense," said Frances; and the remnants of the supper table soon disappeared under her superintendance.
