"O, Time and Death! with certain pace,
Though still unequal, hurrying on,
O'erturning, in your awful race,
The cot, the palace, and the throne!"
Sands.
Maud had little leisure for reflection. The yells and shrieks were
followed by the cries of combatants, and the crack of the rifle. Nick
hurried her along at a rate so rapid that she had not breath to
question or remonstrate, until she found herself at the door of a small
store-room, in which her mother was accustomed to keep articles of
domestic economy that required but little space. Into this room Nick
thrust her, and then she heard the key turn on her egress. For a single
moment, Wyandotté stood hesitating whether he should endeavour to get
Mrs. Willoughby and her other daughter into the same place of security;
then, judging of the futility of the attempt, by the approach of the
sounds within, among which he heard the full, manly voice of Robert
Willoughby, calling on the garrison to be firm, he raised an answering
yell to those of the Mohawks, the war-whoop of his tribe, and plunged
into the fray with the desperation of one who ran a muck, and with the
delight of a demon.
In order to understand the cause of this sudden change, it will be
necessary to return a little, in the order of time. While Willoughby
was with his mother and sisters, Mike had charge of the gate. The rest
of the garrison was either at the loops, or was stationed on the roofs.
As the darkness increased, Joel mustered sufficient courage to crawl
through the hole, and actually reached the gate. Without him, it was
found impossible to spring his mine, and he had been prevailed on to
risk this much, on condition it should not be asked of him to do such
violence to his feelings as to enter the court of a house in which he
had seen so many happy days.
The arrangement, by which this traitor intended to throw a family upon
the tender mercies of savages, was exceedingly simple. It will be
remembered that only one leaf of the inner gate was hung, the other
being put in its place, where it was sustained by a prop. This prop
consisted of a single piece of timber, of which one end rested on the
ground, and the other on the centre of the gate; the last being
effectually prevented from slipping by pins of wood, driven into the
massive wood-work of the gate, above its end. The lower end of the prop
rested against a fragment of rock that nature had placed at this
particular spot. As the work had been set up in a hurry, it was found
necessary to place wedges between the lower end of the prop and the
rock, in order to force the leaf properly into its groove, without
which it might have been canted to one side, and of course easily
overturned by the exercise of sufficient force from without.
To all this arrangement, Joel had been a party, and he knew, as a
matter of course, its strong and its weak points. Seizing a favourable
moment, he had loosened the wedges, leaving them in their places,
however, but using the precaution to fasten a bit of small but strong
cord to the most material one of the three, which cord he buried in the
dirt, and led half round a stick driven into the earth, quite near the
wall, and thence through a hole made by one of the hinges, to the outer
side of the leaf. The whole had been done with so much care as to
escape the vigilance of casual observers, and expressly that the
overseer might assist his friends in entering the place, after he
himself had provided for his own safety by flight. The circumstance
that no one trod on the side of the gateway where the unhung leaf
stood, prevented the half-buried cord from being disturbed by any
casual footstep.
As soon as Joel reached the wall of the Hut, his first care was to
ascertain if he were safe from missiles from the loops. Assured of this
fact, he stole round to the gate, and had a consultation with the
Mohawk chief, on the subject of springing the mine. The cord was found
in its place; and, hauling on it gently, Joel was soon certain that he
had removed the wedge, and that force might speedily throw down the
unhung leaf. Still, he proceeded with caution. Applying the point of a
lever to the bottom of the leaf, he hove it back sufficiently to be
sure it would pass inside of its fellow; and then he announced to the
grave warrior, who had watched the whole proceeding, that the time was
come to lend his aid.
There were a dozen reckless whites, in the cluster of savages collected
at the gate; and enough of these were placed at handspikes to effect
the intended dislodgement. The plan was this: while poles were set
against the upper portion of the leaf, to force it within the line of
the suspended part, handspikes and crowbars, of which a sufficiency had
been provided by Joel's forethought, were to be applied between the
hinge edge and the wall, to cast the whole over to the other side.
Unluckily, Mike had been left at the gate as the sentinel. A more
upfortunate selection could not have been made; the true-hearted fellow
having so much self-confidence, and so little forethought, as to
believe the gates impregnable. He had lighted a pipe, and was smoking
as tranquilly as he had ever done before, in his daily indulgences of
this character, when the unhung leaf came tumbling in upon the side
where he sat; nothing saving his head but the upper edge's lodging
against the wall. At the same moment, a dozen Indians leaped through
the opening, and sprang into the court, raising the yells already
described. Mike followed, armed with his shillelah, for his musket was
abandoned in the surprise, and he began to lay about him with an
earnestness that in nowise lessened the clamour. This was the moment
when Joyce, nobly sustained by Blodget and Jamie Allen, poured a volley
into the court, from the roofs; when the fray became general. To this
point had the combat reached, when Willoughby rushed into the open air
followed, a few instants later, by Nick.
The scene that succeeded is not easily described. It was a _mélée_
in the dark, illuminated, at instants, by the flashes of guns, and
rendered horrible by shrieks, curses, groans and whoops. Mike actually
cleared the centre of the court, where he was soon joined by
Willoughby, when, together, they made a rush at a door, and actually
succeeded in gaining their own party on the roof. It was not in nature
for the young soldier to remain here, however, while his mother,
Beulah, and, so far as he knew, Maud, lay exposed to the savages below.
Arnid a shower of bullets he collected his whole force, and was on the
point of charging into the court, when the roll of a drum without,
brought everything to a stand. Young Blodget, who had displayed the
ardour of a hero, and the coolness of a veteran throughout the short
fray, sprang down the stairs unarmed, at this sound, passed through the
astonished crowd in the court, unnoticed, and rushed to the outer gate.
He had barely time to unbar it, when a body of troops marched through,
led by a tall, manly-looking chief, who was accompanied by one that
the young man instantly recognised, in spite of the darkness, for Mr.
Woods, in his surplice. At the next moment, the strangers had entered,
with military steadiness, into the court, to the number of, at least,
fifty, ranging themselves in order across its area.
"In the name of Heaven, who are you?" called out Willoughby, from a
window. "Speak at once, or we fire."
"I am Colonel Beekman, at the head of a regular force," was the answer,
"and if, as I suspect, you are Major Willoughby, you know you are safe.
In the name of Congress, I command all good citizens to keep the peace,
or they will meet with punishment for their contumacy."
This announcement ended the war, Beekman and Willoughby grasping each
other's hands fervently, at the next instant.
"Oh! Beekman!" exclaimed the last, "at what a moment has God sent you
hither! Heaven be praised! notwithstanding all that has happened, you
will find your wife and child safe. Place sentinels at both gates; for
treachery has been at work here, and I shall ask for rigid justice."
"Softly--softly--my good fellow," answered Beekman, pressing his hand.
"Your own position is a little delicate, and we must proceed with
moderation. I learned, just in time, that a party was coming hither,
bent on mischief; and obtaining the necessary authority, I hastened to
the nearest garrison, obtained a company, and commenced my march as
soon as possible. Had we not met with Mr. Woods, travelling for the
settlements in quest of succour, we might have been too late. As it
was, God be praised!--I think we have arrived in season."
Such were the facts. The Indians had repelled the zealous chaplain, as
a madman; compelling him to take the route toward the settlements,
however; their respect for this unfortunate class of beings, rendering
them averse to his rejoining their enemies. He could, and did impart
enough to Beekman to quicken his march, and to bring him and his
followers up to the gate at a time when a minute might have cost the
entire garrison their lives.
Anxious as he was to seek Beulah and his child, Beekman had a soldier's
duties to perform, and those he would not neglect. The sentinels were
posted, and orders issued to light lanterns, and to make a fire in the
centre of the court, so that the actual condition of the field of
battle might be ascertained. A surgeon had accompanied Beekman's party,
and he was already at work, so far as the darkness would allow. Many
hands being employed, and combustibles easy to be found, ere long the
desired light was gleaming on the terrible spectacle.
A dozen bodies wexre stretched in the court, of which, three or four
were fated never to rise again, in life. Of the rest, no less than four
had fallen with broken heads, inflicted by O'Hearn's shillelah. Though
these blows were not fatal, they effectually put the warriors _hors
de combat_. Of the garrison, not one was among the slain, in this
part of the field. On a later investigation, however, it was
ascertained that the poor old Scotch mason had received a mortal hurt,
through a window, and this by the very last shot that had been fired.
On turning over the dead of the assailants, too, it was discovered that
Daniel the Miller was of the number. A few of the Mohawks were seen,
with glowing eyes, in corners of the court, applying their own rude
dressings to their various hurts; succeeding, on the whole, in
effecting the great purpose of the healing art, about as well as those
who were committed to the lights of science.
Surprisingly few uninjured members of the assaulting party, however,
were to be found, when the lanterns appeared. Some had slipped through
the gate before the sentinels were posted; others had found their way
to the roof, and thence, by various means to the ground; while a few
lay concealed in the buildings, until a favourable moment offered to
escape. Among all those who remained, not an individual was found who
claimed to be in any authority. In a word, after five minutes of
examination, both Beekman and Willoughby were satisfied that there no
longer existed a force to dispute with them the mastery of the Hut.
"We have delayed too long relieving the apprehensions of those who are
very dear to us, Major Willoughby," Beekman at length observed. "If you
will lead the way to the parts of the buildings where your--_my_
mother, and wife, are to be found, I will now follow you."
"Hold, Beekman--there yet remains a melancholy tale to be told--nay,
start not--I left our Beulah, and your boy, in perfect health, less
than a quarter of an hour since. But my honoured, honourable, revered,
beloved father has been killed in a most extraordinary manner, and you
will find his widow and daughters weeping over his body."
This appalling intelligence produced a halt, during which Willoughby
explained all he knew of the manner of his father's death, which was
merely the little he had been enabled to glean from Maud. As soon as
this duty was performed, the gentlemen proceeded together to the
apartment of the mourners, each carrying a light.
Willoughby made an involuntary exclamation, when he perceived that the
door of his mother's room was open. He had hoped Maud would have had
the presence of mind to close and lock it; but here he found it,
yawning as if to invite the entrance of enemies. The light within, too,
was extinguished, though, by the aid of the lanterns, he saw large
traces of blood in the ante-room, and the passages he was obliged to
thread. All this hastened his steps. Presently he stood in the chamber
of death.
Short as had been the struggle, the thirst for scalps had led some of
the savages to this sanctuary. The instant the Indians had gained the
court, some of the most ferocious of their number had rushed into the
building, penetrating its recesses in a way to defile them with
slaughter. The first object that Willoughby saw was one of these
ruthless warriors, stretched on the floor, with a living Indian,
bleeding at half a dozen wounds, standing over him; the eye-balls of
the latter were glaring like the tiger's that is suddenly confronted to
a foe. An involuntary motion was made towards the rifle he carried, by
the major; but the next look told him that the living Indian was Nick.
Then it was, that he gazed more steadily about him, and took in all the
horrible truths of that fatal chamber.
Mrs. Willoughby was sealed in the chair where she had last been seen,
perfectly dead. No mark of violence was ever found on her body,
however, and there is no doubt that her constant spirit had followed
that of her husband to the other world, in submission to the blow which
had separated them. Beulah had been shot; not, as was afterwards
ascertained, by any intentional aim, but by one of those random
bullets, of which so many had been flying through the buildings. The
missile had passed through her heart, and she lay pressing the little
Evert to her bosom, with that air of steady and unerring affection
which had marked every act of her innocent and feeling life. The boy
himself, thanks to the tiger-like gallantry of Nick, had escaped
unhurt. The Tuscarora had seen a party of six take the direction of
this chamber, and he followed with an instinct of their intentions.
When the leader entered the room, and found three dead bodies, he
raised a yell that betokened his delight at the prospect of gaining so
many scalps; at the next instant, while his fingers were actually
entwined in the hair of Captain Willoughby, he fell by a blow from
Wyandotté. Nick next extinguished the lamp, and then succeeded a scene,
which none of the actors, themselves, could have described. Another
Mohawk fell, and the remainder, ailer suffering horribly from the keen
knife of Nick, as well as from blows received from each other, dragged
themselves away, leaving the field to the Tuscarora. The latter met the
almost bewildered gaze of the major with a smile of grim triumph, as he
pointed to the three bodies of the beloved ones, and said--
"See--all got scalp! Deat', nothin'--scalp, ebbery t'ing."
We shall not attempt to describe the outbreaking of anguish from the
husband and brother. It was a moment of wild grief, that bore down all
the usual restraints of manhood, though it was such a moment as an
American frontier residence has often witnessed. The quiet but deep-
feeling nature of Beekman received a shock that almost produced a
dissolution of his earthly being. He succeeded, however, in raising the
still warm body of Beulah from the floor, and folding it to his heart.
Happily for his reason, a flood of tears, such as women shed, burst
from his soul, rather than from his eyes, bedewing her still sweet and
placid countenance.
To say that Robert Willoughby did not feel the desolation, which so
suddenly alighted on a family that had often been quoted for its mutual
affection and happiness, would be to do him great injustice. He even
staggered under the blow; yet his heart craved further information. The
Indian was gazing intently on the sight of Beekman's grief, partly in
wonder, but more in sympathy, when he felt an iron pressure of his arm.
"Maud--Tuscarora"--the major rather groaned than whispered in his ear,
"know you anything of Maud?"
Nick made a gesture of assent; then motioned for the other to follow.
He led the way to the store-room, produced the key, and throwing open
the door, Maud was weeping on Robert Willoughby's bosom in another
instant. He would not take her to the chamber of death, but urged her,
by gentle violence, to follow him to the library.
"God be praised for this mercy!" exclaimed the ardent girl, raising her
hands and streaming eyes to heaven. "I know not, care not, who is
conqueror, since _you_ are safe!"
"Oh! Maud--beloved one--we must now be all in all to each other. Death
has stricken the others."
This was a sudden and involuntary announcement, though it was best it
should be so under the circumstances. It was long before Maud could
hear an outline, even, of the details, but she bore them better than
Willoughby could have hoped. The excitement had been so high, as to
brace the mind to meet any human evil. The sorrow that came afterwards,
though sweetened by so many tender recollections, and chastened hopes,
was deep and enduring.
Our picture would not have been complete, without relating the
catastrophe that befell the Hutted Knoll; but, having discharged this
painful duty, we prefer to draw a veil over the remainder of that
dreadful night. The cries of the negresses, when they learned the death
of their old and young mistress, disturbed the silence of the place for
a few minutes and then a profound stillness settled on the buildings,
marking them distinctly as the house of mourning. On further inquiry,
too, it was ascertained that Great Smash, after shooting an Oneida, had
been slain and scalped. Pliny the younger, also, fell fighting like a
wild beast to defend the entrance to his mistresses' apartments.
The following day, when light had returned, a more accurate idea was
obtained of the real state of the valley. All of the invading party,
the dead and wounded excepted, had made a rapid retreat, accompanied by
most of the deserters and their families. The name, known influence,
and actual authority of Colonel Beekman had wrought this change; the
irregular powers that had set the expedition in motion, preferring to
conceal their agency in the transaction, rather than make any hazardous
attempt to claim the reward of patriotic service, as is so often done
in revolutions, for merciless deeds and selfish acts. There had been no
real design on the part of the whites to injure any of the family in
their persons; but, instigated by Joel, they had fancied the occasion
favourable for illustrating their own public virtue, while they placed
themselves in the way of receiving fortune's favours. The assault that
actually occurred, was one of those uncontrollable outbreakings of
Indian ferocity, that have so often set at defiance the restraints of
discipline.
Nick was not to be found either. He had been last seen dressing his
wounds, with Indian patience, and Indian skill, preparing to apply
herbs and roots, in quest of which he went into the forest about
midnight. As he did not return Willoughby feared that he might be
suffering alone, and determined to have a search made, as soon as he
had performed the last sad offices for the dead.
Two days occurred, however, before this melancholy duty was discharged.
The bodies of all the savages who had fallen were interred the morning
after the assault; but that of Jamie Allen, with those of the principal
persons of the family, were kept for the pious purposes of affection,
until the time mentioned.
The funeral was a touching sight. The captain, his wife, and daughter,
were laid, side by side, near the chapel; the first and last of their
race that ever reposed in the wilds of America. Mr. Woods read the
funeral service, summoning all his spiritual powers to sustain him, as
he discharged this solemn office of the church. Willoughby's arm was
around the waist of Maud, who endeavoured to reward his tender
assiduities by a smile, but could not. Colonel Beekman held little
Evert in his arms, and stood over the grave with the countenance of a
resolute man stricken with grief--one of the most touching spectacles
of our nature.
"_I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord_," sounded in
the stillness of that valley like a voice from heaven, pouring out
consolation on the bruised spirits of the mourners. Maud raised her
face from Willoughby's shoulder, and lifted her blue eyes to the
cloudless vault above her; soliciting mercy, and offering resignation
in the look. The line of troops in the back-ground moved, as by a
common impulse, and then a breathless silence showed the desire of
these rude beings not to lose a syllable.
A round red spot formed on each of the cheeks of Mr. Woods as he
proceeded, and his voice gathered strength, until its lowest
intonations came clear and distinct on every ear. Just as the bodies
were about to be lowered into their two receptacles, the captain, his
wife and daughter being laid in the same grave, Nick came with his
noiseless step near the little group of mourners. He had issued from
the forest only a few minutes before, and understanding the intention
of the ceremony, he approached the spot as fast as weakness and wounds
would allow. Even he listened with profound attention to the chaplain,
never changing his eye from his face, unless to glance at the coffins
as they lay in their final resting-place.
"_I heard a voice from Heaven, saying unto me, write, From henceforth
blessed are the dead who die in the Lord; even so saith the Spirit, for
they rest from their labours_," continued the chaplain, his voice
beginning to betray a tremor; then the gaze of the Tuscarora became
keen as the panther's glance at his discovered victim. Tears followed,
and, for a moment, the voice was choked.
"Why you woman?" demanded Nick, fiercely. "Save all 'e scalp!"
This strange interruption failed to produce any effect. First Beekman
yielded; Maud and Willoughby followed; until Mr. Woods, himself, unable
to resist the double assaults of the power of sympathy and his own
affection, closed the book and wept like a child.
It required minutes for the mourners to recover their self-command.
When the latter returned, however, all knelt on the grass, the line of
soldiers included, and the closing prayers were raised to the throne of
God.
This act of devotion enabled the mourners to maintain an appearance of
greater tranquillity until the graves were filled. The troops advanced,
and fired three volleys over the captain's grave, when all retired
towards the Hut. Maud had caught little Evert from the arms of his
father, and, pressing him to her bosom, the motherless babe seemed
disposed to slumber there. In this manner she walked away, attended
closely by the father, who now cherished his boy as an only treasure.
Willoughby lingered the last at the grave, Nick alone remaining near
him. The Indian had been struck by the exhibition of deep sorrow that
he had witnessed, and he felt an uneasiness that was a little
unaccountable to himself. It was one of the caprices of this strange
nature of ours, that he should feel a desire to console those whom he
had so deeply injured himself. He drew near to Robert Willoughby,
therefore, and, laying a hand on the latter's arm, drew his look in the
direction of his own red and speaking face.
"Why so sorry, major?" he said. "Warrior nebber die but once--
_must_ die sometime."
"There lie my father, my mother, and my only sister, Indian--is not
that enough to make the stoutest heart bend? You knew them, too, Nick--
did you ever know better?"
"Squaw good--both squaw good--Nick see no pale-face squaw he like so
much."
"I thank you, Nick! This rude tribute to the virtues of my mother and
sister, is far more grateful to me than the calculating and regulated
condolence of the world."
"No squaw _so_ good as ole one--she, all heart--love every body,
but self."
This was so characteristic of his mother, that Willoughby was startled
by the sagacity of the savage, though reflection told him so long an
acquaintance with the family must have made a dog familiar with this
beautiful trait in his mother.
"And my father, Nick!" exclaimed the major, with feeling--"my noble,
just, liberal, gallant father!--He, too, you knew well, and must have
loved."
"No so good as squaw," answered the Tuscarora, sententiously, and not
altogether without disgust in his manner.
"We are seldom as good as our wives, and mothers, and sisters, Nick,
else should we be angels on earth. But, allowing for the infirmities of
us men, my father was just and gocd."
"Too much flog"--answered the savage, sternly--"make Injin's back
sore."
This extraordinary speech struck the major less, at the time, than it
did, years afterwards, when he came to reflect on all the events and
dialogues of this teeming week. Such was also the case as to what
followed.
"You are no flatterer, Tuscarora, as I have always found in our
intercourse. If my father ever punished you with severity, you will
allow, me, at least, to imagine it was merited."
"Too much flog, I say," interrupted the savage, fiercely. "No
difference, chief or not. Touch ole sore too rough. Good, some; bad,
some. Like weather--now shine; now storm."
"This is no time to discuss these points, Nick. You have fought nobly
for us, and I thank you. Without your aid, these beloved ones would
have been mutilated, as well as slain; and Maud--my own blessed Maud--
might now have been sleeping at their sides."
Nick's face was now all softness again, and he returned the pressure of
Willoughby's hand with honest fervor. Here they separated. The major
hastened to the side of Maud, to fold her to his heart, and console her
with his love. Nick passed into the forest, returning no more to the
Hut. His path led him near the grave. On the side where lay the body of
Mrs. Willoughby, he threw a flower he had plucked in the meadow; while
he shook his finger menacingly at the other, which hid the person of
his enemy. In this, he was true to his nature, which taught him never
to forget a favour, or forgive an injury.