And let me the canakin clink, clink,
And let me the canakin clink.
A soldier's a man;
A life's but a span;
Why, then, let a soldier drink.
--_Othello_.
The position held by the corps of dragoons, we have already said, was a
favorite place of halting with their commander. A cluster of some half
dozen small and dilapidated buildings formed what, from the circumstance
of two roads intersecting each other at right angles, was called the
village of the Four Corners. As usual, one of the most imposing of these
edifices had been termed, in the language of the day, "a house of
entertainment for man and beast." On a rough board suspended from the
gallows-looking post that had supported the ancient sign, was, however,
written in red chalk, "Elizabeth Flanagan, her hotel," an ebullition of
the wit of some of the idle wags of the corps. The matron, whose name
had thus been exalted to an office of such unexpected dignity,
ordinarily discharged the duties of a female sutler, washerwoman, and,
to use the language of Katy Haynes, petticoat doctor to the troops. She
was the widow of a soldier who had been killed in the service, and who,
like herself, was a native of a distant island, and had early tried his
fortune in the colonies of North America. She constantly migrated with
the troops; and it was seldom that they became stationary for two days
at a time but the little cart of the bustling woman was seen driving
into the encampment loaded with such articles as she conceived would
make her presence most welcome. With a celerity that seemed almost
supernatural, Betty took up her ground and commenced her occupation.
Sometimes the cart itself was her shop; at others the soldiers made her
a rude shelter of such materials as offered; but on the present
occasion she had seized on a vacant building, and, by dint of stuffing
the dirty breeches and half-dried linen of the troopers into the broken
windows, to exclude the cold, which had now become severe, she formed
what she herself had pronounced to be "most illigant lodgings." The men
were quartered in the adjacent barns, and the officers collected in the
"Hotel Flanagan," as they facetiously called headquarters. Betty was
well known to every trooper in the corps, could call each by his
Christian or nickname, as best suited her fancy; and, although
absolutely intolerable to all whom habit had not made familiar with her
virtues, was a general favorite with these partisan warriors. Her faults
were, a trifling love of liquor, excessive filthiness, and a total
disregard of all the decencies of language; her virtues, an unbounded
love for her adopted country, perfect honesty when dealing on certain
known principles with the soldiery, and great good nature. Added to
these, Betty had the merit of being the inventor of that beverage which
is so well known, at the present hour, to all the patriots who make a
winter's march between the commercial and political capitals of this
great state, and which is distinguished by the name of "cocktail."
Elizabeth Flanagan was peculiarly well qualified, by education and
circumstances, to perfect this improvement in liquors, having been
literally brought up on its principal ingredient, and having acquired
from her Virginian customers the use of mint, from its flavor in a julep
to its height of renown in the article in question. Such, then, was the
mistress of the mansion, who, reckless of the cold northern blasts,
showed her blooming face from the door of the building to welcome the
arrival of her favorite, Captain Lawton, and his companion, her master
in matters of surgery.
"Ah! by my hopes of promotion, my gentle Elizabeth, but you are
welcome!" cried the trooper, as he threw himself from his saddle. "This
villainous fresh-water gas from the Canadas has been whistling among my
bones till they ache with the cold, but the sight of your fiery
countenance is as cheery as a Christmas fire."
"Now sure, Captain Jack, ye's always full of your complimentaries,"
replied the sutler, taking the bridle of her customer. "But hurry in for
the life of you, darling; the fences hereabouts are not so strong as in
the Highlands, and there's that within will warm both sowl and body."
"So you have been laying the rails under contribution, I see. Well, that
may do for the body," said the captain coolly; "but I have had a pull at
a bottle of cut glass with a silver stand, and I doubt my relish for
your whisky for a month to come."
"If it's silver or goold that ye're thinking of, it's but little I have,
though I've a trifling bit of the continental," said Betty, with a look
of humor; "but there's that within that's fit to be put in vissils of
di'monds."
"What can she mean, Archibald?" asked Lawton. "The animal looks as if it
meant more than it says!"
"'Tis probably a wandering of the reasoning powers, created by the
frequency of intoxicating drafts," observed the surgeon, as he
deliberately threw his left leg over the pommel of the saddle, and slid
down on the right side of his horse.
"Faith, my dear jewel of a doctor, but it was this side I was expicting
you; the whole corps come down on this side but yeerself," said Betty,
winking at the trooper; "but I've been feeding the wounded, in yeer
absence, with the fat of the land."
"Barbarous stupidity!" cried the panic-stricken physician, "to feed men
laboring under the excitement of fever with powerful nutriment. Woman,
woman, you are enough to defeat the skill of Hippocrates!"
"Pooh!" said Betty, with infinite composure, "what a botheration ye make
about a little whisky; there was but a gallon betwixt a good dozen of
them, and I gave it to the boys to make them sleep asy; sure, jist as
slumbering drops."
Lawton and his companion now entered the building, and the first
objects which met their eyes explained the hidden meaning of Betty's
comfortable declaration. A long table, made of boards torn from the side
of an outbuilding, was stretched through the middle of the largest
apartment, or the barroom, and on it was a very scanty display of
crockery ware. The steams of cookery arose from an adjoining kitchen,
but the principal attraction was in a demijohn of fair proportions,
which had been ostentatiously placed on high by Betty as the object most
worthy of notice. Lawton soon learned that it was teeming with the real
amber-colored juice of the grape, and had been sent from the Locusts, as
an offering to Major Dunwoodie, from his friend Captain Wharton of the
royal army.
"And a royal gift it is," said the grinning subaltern, who made the
explanation. "The major gives us an entertainment in honor of our
victory, and you see the principal expense is borne as it should be, by
the enemy. Zounds! I am thinking that after we have primed with such
stuff, we could charge through Sir Henry's headquarters, and carry off
the knight himself."
The captain of dragoons was in no manner displeased at the prospect of
terminating so pleasantly a day that had been so agreeably commenced. He
was soon surrounded by his comrades, who made many eager inquiries
concerning his adventures, while the surgeon proceeded, with certain
quakings of the heart, to examine into the state of his wounded.
Enormous fires were snapping in the chimneys of the house, superseding
the necessity of candles, by the bright light which was thrown from the
blazing piles. The group within were all young men and tried soldiers;
in number they were rather more than a dozen, and their manners and
conversation were a strange mixture of the bluntness of the partisan
with the manners of gentlemen. Their dresses were neat, though plain;
and a never-failing topic amongst them was the performance and quality
of their horses. Some were endeavoring to sleep on the benches which
lined the walls, some were walking the apartments, and others were
seated in earnest discussion on subjects connected with the business of
their lives. Occasionally, as the door of the kitchen opened, the
hissing sounds of the frying pans and the inviting savor of the food
created a stagnation in all other employments; even the sleepers, at
such moments, would open their eyes, and raise their heads, to
reconnoiter the state of the preparations. All this time Dunwoodie sat
by himself, gazing at the fire, and lost in reflections which none of
his officers presumed to disturb. He had made earnest inquiries of
Sitgreaves after the condition of Singleton, during which a profound and
respectful silence was maintained in the room; but as soon as he had
ended, and resumed his seat, the usual ease and freedom prevailed.
The arrangement of the table was a matter of but little concern to Mrs.
Flanagan; and Caesar would have been sadly scandalized at witnessing the
informality with which various dishes, each bearing a wonderful
resemblance to the others, were placed before so many gentlemen of
consideration. In taking their places at the board, the strictest
attention was paid to precedency; for, notwithstanding the freedom of
manners which prevailed in the corps, the points of military etiquette
were at all times observed, with something approaching to religious
veneration. Most of the guests had been fasting too long to be in any
degree fastidious in their appetites; but the case was different with
Captain Lawton; he felt an unaccountable loathing at the exhibition of
Betty's food, and could not refrain from making a few passing comments
on the condition of the knives, and the clouded aspect of the plates.
The good nature and the personal affection of Betty for the offender,
restrained her, for some time, from answering his innuendoes, until
Lawton, having ventured to admit a piece of the black meat into his
mouth, inquired, with the affectation of a spoiled child,--
"What kind of animal might this have been when living, Mrs. Flanagan?"
"Sure, captain, and wasn't it the ould cow?" replied the sutler, with a
warmth that proceeded partly from dissatisfaction at the complaints of
her favorite, and partly from grief at the loss of the deceased.
"What!" roared the trooper, stopping short as he was about to swallow
his morsel, "ancient Jenny!"
"The devil!" cried another, dropping his knife and fork, "she who made
the campaign of the Jerseys with us?"
"The very same," replied the mistress of the hotel, with a piteous
aspect of woe; "a gentle baste, and one that could and did live on less
than air, at need. Sure, gentlemen, 'tis awful to have to eat sitch an
ould friend."
"And has she sunk to this?" said Lawton, pointing with his knife, to the
remnants on the table.
"Nay, captain," said Betty, with spirit, "I sould two of her quarters to
some of your troop; but divil the word did I tell the boys what an ould
frind it was they had bought, for fear it might damage their appetites."
"Fury!" cried the trooper, with affected anger, "I shall have my fellows
as limber as supple-jacks on such fare; afraid of an Englishman as a
Virginian negro is of his driver."
"Well," said Lieutenant Mason, dropping his knife and fork in a kind of
despair, "my jaws have more sympathy than many men's hearts. They
absolutely decline making any impression on the relics of their old
acquaintance."
"Try a drop of the gift," said Betty, soothingly, pouring a large
allowance of the wine into a bowl, and drinking it off as taster to the
corps. "Faith, 'tis but a wishy-washy sort of stuff after all!"
The ice once broken, however, a clear glass of wine was handed to
Dunwoodie, who, bowing to his companions, drank the liquor in the midst
of a profound silence. For a few glasses there was much formality
observed, and sundry patriotic toasts and sentiments were duly noticed
by the company. The liquor, however, performed its wonted office; and
before the second sentinel at the door had been relieved, all
recollection of the dinner and their cares was lost in the present
festivity. Dr. Sitgreaves did not return in season to partake of Jenny,
but he was in time to receive his fair proportion of Captain
Wharton's present.
"A song, a song from Captain Lawton!" cried two or three of the party in
a breath, on observing the failure of some of the points of
good-fellowship in the trooper. "Silence, for the song of
Captain Lawton."
"Gentlemen," returned Lawton, his dark eyes swimming with the bumpers he
had finished, though his head was as impenetrable as a post; "I am not
much of a nightingale, but, under the favor of your good wishes, I
consent to comply with the demand."
"Now, Jack," said Sitgreaves, nodding on his seat, "remember the air I
taught you, and--stop, I have a copy of the words in my pocket."
"Forbear, forbear, good doctor," said the trooper, filling his glass
with great deliberation; "I never could wheel round those hard names.
Gentlemen, I will give you a humble attempt of my own."
"Silence, for Captain Lawton's song!" roared five or six at once; when
the trooper proceeded, in a fine, full tone, to sing the following words
to a well-known bacchanalian air, several of his comrades helping him
through the chorus with a fervor that shook the crazy edifice they
were in:--
Now push the mug, my jolly boys,
And live, while live we can;
To-morrow's sun may end your joys,
For brief's the hour of man.
And he who bravely meets the foe
His lease of life can never know.
Old mother Flanagan
Come and fill the can again!
For you can fill, and we can swill,
Good Betty Flanagan.
If love of life pervades your breast,
Or love of ease your frame,
Quit honor's path for peaceful rest,
And bear a coward's name;
For soon and late, we danger know,
And fearless on the saddle go.
Old mother, etc.
When foreign foes invade the land,
And wives and sweethearts call,
In freedom's cause we'll bravely stand
Or will as bravely fall;
In this fair home the fates have given
We'll live as lords, or live in heaven.
Old mother, etc.
At each appeal made to herself, by the united voices of the choir, Betty
invariably advanced and complied literally with the request contained in
the chorus, to the infinite delight of the singers, and with no small
participation in the satisfaction on her account. The hostess was
provided with a beverage more suited to the high seasoning to which she
had accustomed her palate, than the tasteless present of Captain
Wharton; by which means Betty had managed, with tolerable facility, to
keep even pace with the exhilaraton of her guests. The applause received
by Captain Lawton was general, with the exception of the surgeon, who
rose from the bench during the first chorus, and paced the floor, in a
flow of classical indignation. The bravos and bravissimos drowned all
other noises for a short time; but as they gradually ceased, the doctor
turned to the musician, and exclaimed with heat,--
"Captain Lawton, I marvel that a gentleman, and a gallant officer, can
find no other subject for his muse, in these times of trial, than in
such beastly invocations to that notorious follower of the camp, the
filthy Elizabeth Flanagan. Methinks the goddess of Liberty could furnish
a more noble inspiration, and the sufferings of your country a more
befitting theme."
"Heyday!" shouted the hostess, advancing towards him in a threatening
attitude; "and who is it that calls me filthy? Master Squirt!
Master Popgun--"
"Peace!" said Dunwoodie, in a voice that was exerted but a little more
than common, but which was succeeded by the stillness of death. "Woman,
leave the room. Dr. Sitgreaves, I call you to your seat, to wait the
order of the revels."
"Proceed, proceed," said the surgeon, drawing himself up in an attitude
of dignified composure. "I trust, Major Dunwoodie, I am not unacquainted
with the rules of decorum, nor ignorant of the by-laws of
good-fellowship." Betty made a hasty but somewhat devious retreat to her
own dominions, being unaccustomed to dispute the orders of the
commanding officer.
"Major Dunwoodie will honor us with a sentimental song," said Lawton,
bowing to his leader, with the collected manner he so well knew how
to assume.
The major hesitated a moment, and then sang, with fine execution, the
following words:--
Some love the heats of southern suns,
Where's life's warm current maddening runs,
In one quick circling stream;
But dearer far's the mellow light
Which trembling shines, reflected bright
In Luna's milder beam.
Some love the tulip's gaudier dyes,
Where deepening blue with yellow vies,
And gorgeous beauty glows;
But happier he, whose bridal wreath,
By love entwined, is found to breathe
The sweetness of the rose.
The voice of Dunwoodie never lost its authority with his inferiors; and
the applause which followed his song, though by no means so riotous as
that which succeeded the effort of the captain, was much more
flattering.
"If, sir," said the doctor, after joining in the plaudits of his
companions, "you would but learn to unite classical allusions with your
delicate imagination you would become a pretty amateur poet."
"He who criticizes ought to be able to perform," said Dunwoodie with a
smile. "I call on Dr. Sitgreaves for a specimen of the style
he admires."
"Dr. Sitgreaves' song! Dr. Sitgreaves' song!" echoed all at the table
with delight; "a classical ode from Dr. Sitgreaves!"
The surgeon made a complacent bow, took the remnant of his glass, and
gave a few preliminary hems, that served hugely to delight three or four
young cornets at the foot of the table. He then commenced singing, in a
cracked voice, and to anything but a tune, the following ditty:--
Hast thou ever felt love's dart, dearest,
Or breathed his trembling sigh--
Thought him, afar, was ever nearest,
Before that sparkling eye?
Then hast thou known what 'tis to feel
The pain that Galen could not heal.
"Hurrah!" shouted Lawton. "Archibald eclipses the Muses themselves; his
words flow like the sylvan stream by moonlight, and his melody is a
crossbreed of the nightingale and the owl."
"Captain Lawton," cried the exasperated operator, "it is one thing to
despise the lights of classical learning, and another to be despised for
your own ignorance!"
A loud summons at the door of the building created a dead halt in the
uproar, and the dragoons instinctively caught up their arms, to be
prepared for the worst. The door was opened, and the Skinners entered,
dragging in the peddler, bending beneath the load of his pack.
"Which is Captain Lawton?" said the leader of the gang, gazing around
him in some little astonishment.
"He waits your pleasure," said the trooper dryly.
"Then here I deliver to your hands a condemned traitor. This is Harvey
Birch, the peddler spy."
Lawton started as he looked his old acquaintance in the face, and,
turning to the Skinner with a lowering look, he asked,--
"And who are you, sir, that speak so freely of your neighbors? But,"
bowing to Dunwoodie, "your pardon, sir; here is the commanding officer;
to him you will please address yourself."
"No," said the man, sullenly, "it is to you I deliver the peddler, and
from you I claim my reward."
"Are you Harvey Birch?" said Dunwoodie, advancing with an air of
authority that instantly drove the Skinner to a corner of the room.
"I am," said Birch, proudly.
"And a traitor to your country," continued the major, with sternness.
"Do you know that I should be justified in ordering your execution
this night?"
"'Tis not the will of God to call a soul so hastily to His presence,"
said the peddler with solemnity.
"You speak truth," said Dunwoodie; "and a few brief hours shall be added
to your life. But as your offense is most odious to a soldier, so it
will be sure to meet with the soldier's vengeance. You die to-morrow."
"'Tis as God wills."
"I have spent many a good hour to entrap the villain," said the Skinner,
advancing a little from his corner, "and I hope you will give me a
certificate that will entitle us to the reward; 'twas promised to be
paid in gold."
"Major Dunwoodie," said the officer of the day, entering the room, "the
patrols report a house to be burned near yesterday's battle ground."
"'Twas the hut of the peddler," muttered the leader of the gang. "We
have not left him a shingle for shelter; I should have burned it months
ago, but I wanted his shed for a trap to catch the sly fox in."
"You seem a most ingenious patriot," said Lawton. "Major Dunwoodie, I
second the request of this worthy gentleman, and crave the office of
bestowing the reward on him and his fellows."
"Take it; and you, miserable man, prepare for that fate which will
surely befall you before the setting of to-morrow's sun."
"Life offers but little to tempt me with," said Harvey, slowly raising
his eyes, and gazing wildly at the strange faces in the apartment.
"Come, worthy children of America!" said Lawton, "follow, and receive
your reward."
The gang eagerly accepted the invitation, and followed the captain
towards the quarters assigned to his troop. Dunwoodie paused a moment,
from reluctance to triumph over a fallen foe, before he proceeded.
"You have already been tried, Harvey Birch; and the truth has proved you
to be an enemy too dangerous to the liberties of America to be
suffered to live."
"The truth!" echoed the peddler, starting, and raising himself in a
manner that disregarded the weight of his pack.
"Aye! the truth; you are charged with loitering near the continental
army, to gain intelligence of its movements, and, by communicating them
to the enemy, to enable him to frustrate the intentions of Washington."
"Will Washington say so, think you?"
"Doubtless he would; even the justice of Washington condemns you."
"No, no, no," cried the peddler, in a voice and with a manner that
startled Dunwoodie. "Washington can see beyond the hollow views of
pretended patriots. Has he not risked his all on the cast of a die? If a
gallows is ready for me, was there not one for him also? No, no, no,
no--Washington would never say, 'Lead him to a gallows.'"
"Have you anything, wretched man, to urge to the commander in chief why
you should not die?" said the major, recovering from the surprise
created by the manner of the other.
Birch trembled, for violent emotions were contending in his bosom. His
face assumed the ghastly paleness of death, and his hand drew a box of
tin from the folds of his shirt; he opened it, showing by the act that
it contained a small piece of paper. On this document his eye was for an
instant fixed--he had already held it towards Dunwoodie, when suddenly
withdrawing his hand he exclaimed,--
"No--it dies with me. I know the conditions of my service, and will not
purchase life with their forfeiture--it dies with me."
"Deliver that paper, and you may possibly find favor," cried Dunwoodie,
expecting a discovery of importance to the cause.
"It dies with me," repeated Birch, a flush passing over his pallid
features, and lighting them with extraordinary brilliancy.
"Seize the traitor!" cried the major, "and wrest the secret from his
hands."
The order was immediately obeyed; but the movements of the peddler were
too quick; in an instant he swallowed the paper. The officers paused in
astonishment; but the surgeon cried eagerly,--
"Hold him, while I administer an emetic."
"Forbear!" said Dunwoodie, beckoning him back with his hand. "If his
crime is great, so will his punishment be heavy."
"Lead on," cried the peddler, dropping his pack from his shoulders, and
advancing towards the door with a manner of incomprehensible dignity.
"Whither?" asked Dunwoodie, in amazement.
"To the gallows."
"No," said the major, recoiling in horror at his own justice. "My duty
requires that I order you to be executed, but surely not so hastily;
take until nine to-morrow to prepare for the awful change."
Dunwoodie whispered his orders in the ear of a subaltern, and motioned
to the peddler to withdraw. The interruption caused by this scene
prevented further enjoyment around the table, and the officers dispersed
to their several places of rest. In a short time the only noise to be
heard was the heavy tread of the sentinel, as he paced the frozen ground
in front of the Hotel Flanagan.