CHAPTER XX.
The spring of 1813 had passed nearly away, yet without producing anyrenewed effort on the part of the Americans. From information obtainedfrom the Indian scouts, it however appeared that, far from beingdiscouraged by their recent disaster, they had moved forward a thirdarmy to the Miami, where they had strongly entrenched themselves, untilfitting opportunity should be found to renew their attempt to recoverthe lost district. It was also ascertained that, with a perseverance andindustry peculiar to themselves, they had been occupied throughout therigorous winter in preparing a fleet of sufficient force to compete withthat of the British; and that, abandoning the plan hitherto pursued byhis predecessors, the American leader of this third army of invasionpurposed transporting his troops across the lake, instead of running therisk of being harassed and cut up in an advance by land. To effect this,it was of course necessary to have the command of the lake, and therewere all the sinews of exertion called into full exercise, to obtain thedesired ascendancy.
To defeat this intention became now the chief object of the BritishGeneral. With the close of winter had ceased the hunting pursuits of thewarriors, so that each day brought with it a considerable accession tothe strength of this wild people, vast numbers of whom had betakenthemselves to their hunting grounds, shortly after the capture ofDetroit. The chiefs of these several nations were now summoned to aCouncil, in the course of which it was decided that a formidableexpedition, accompanied by a heavy train of battering artillery, shouldembark in batteaux, with a view to the reduction of the American postestablished on the Miami--a nucleus around which was fast gathering aspirit of activity that threatened danger, if not annihilation, to theEnglish influence in the North Western districts. In the event of theaccomplishment of this design, Detroit and Amherstburg would necessarilybe released from all apprehension, since, even admitting the Americanscould acquire a superiority of naval force on the lake, such superioritycould only be essentially injurious to us, as a means of affordingtransport to, and covering the operations of an invading army. If,however, that already on the Miami could be defeated, and their fortressrazed, it was not probable that a fourth could be equipped and pushedforward, with a view to offensive operations, in sufficient time toaccomplish anything decisive before the winter should set in. Tecumseh,who had just returned from collecting new bodies of warriors, warmlyapproved the project, and undertook to bring two thousand men into thefield, as his quota of the expedition, the departure of which wasdecided for the seventh day from the Council.
The day on which that Council was held, was characterized by one ofthose sudden outbursts of elemental war, so common to the Canadas inearly summer, and which, in awful grandeur of desolation, are frequentlyscarcely inferior to the hurricanes of the tropics. The morning had beenoppressively sultry, and there was that general and heavy lethargy ofnature that usually precedes a violent reaction. About noon a small,dark speck was visible in the hitherto cloudless horizon, and thispresently grew in size until the whole western sky was one dense mass ofthreatening black, which eventually spread itself over the entiresurface of the heavens leaving not a hand's breadth anywhere visible.Presently, amid the sultry stillness that prevailed, there came a slightbreeze over the face of the waters, and then, as if some vast batteringtrain had suddenly opened its hundred mouths of terror, vomiting forthshowers of grape and other missiles, come astounding thunder-claps, andforked lightnings, and rain, and hail, and whistling wind--all in suchterrible union, yet such fearful disorder, that man, the last to takewarning, or feel awed by the anger of the common parent, Nature, benthis head in lowliness and silence to her voice, and awaited tremblinglythe passing away of her wrath.
Henry Grantham, whose turn of duty had again brought him to Amherstburg,was in the mess-room of the garrison when the storm was at the fiercest.Notwithstanding the excitement of the council-scene, at which he hadbeen present, he had experienced an unusual depression throughout theday, originating partly in the languid state of the atmosphere, butinfinitely more in the anxiety under which he labored in regard to hisbrother, of whom no other intelligence had been received, since hisdeparture with his prisoners for Buffalo, than what vague rumor, coupledwith the fact of the continued absence of the schooner, afforded. Thatthe vessel had been captured by the enemy there could be no doubt; but,knowing as he did, the gallant spirit of Gerald, there was reason toimagine that he had not yielded to his enemies, before every means ofresistance had been exhausted: and if so, what might not have been theeffect of his obstinacy, if such a term could be applied to unshakenintrepidity, on men exasperated by opposition and eager for revenge. Inthe outset he had admitted his gentle cousin Gertrude to his confidence,as one most suited, by her docility, to soothe without appearing toremark on his alarm, but when, little suspecting the true motive of heragitation, he saw her evince an emotion surpassing his own, andadmitting and giving way to fears beyond any he would openly avow, hegrew impatient and disappointed, and preferring rather to hear thetocsin of alarm sounded from his own heart than from the lips ofanother, he suddenly, and much to the surprise of the affectionate girl,discontinued all allusion to the subject. But Henry's anxiety was notthe less poignant from being confined within his own breast, andalthough it gratified him to find that flattering mention was frequentlymade of his brother at the mess-table, coupled with regret for hisabsence, it was reserved for his hours of privacy and abstraction todwell upon the fears which daily became more harassing and perplexing.
On the present occasion, even while his brother officers had thought norear but for the terrible tempest that raged without, and at one momentthreatened to bury them beneath its trembling roof, the mind of Henrywas full of his absent brother, whom, more than ever, he now seemed toregret, from the association of the howling tempest with the wildelement on which he had last beheld him; and so complete at last hadbecome the ascendancy of his melancholy, that when the storm had been insome degree stilled, and the rain abated, he took an early leave of hiscompanions, with a view to indulge in privacy the gloomy feelings bywhich he felt himself oppressed.
In passing through the gate of the fort, on his way into the town, hisattention was arrested by several groups of persons, consisting ofsoldiers, Indians, and inhabitants, who, notwithstanding the inclemencyof the hour, were gathered on the high bank in front of the _demi-lune_battery, eagerly bending their gaze upon the river. Half curious to knowwhat could have attracted them in such weather from shelter, Henryadvanced and mingled in the crowd, which gave way at his approach.Although the fury of the tempest had spent itself, there was still windenough to render it a matter of necessary precaution that the bystandershould secure a firm footing on the bank, while the water, violentlyagitated and covered with foam, resembled rather a pigmy sea than aninland river--so unusual and so vast were its waves. The current,moreover, increased in strength by the sudden swelling of the waters,dashed furiously down, giving its direction to the leaping billows thatrode impatiently upon its surface; and at the point of intersection bythe island of Bois Blanc, formed so violent an eddy within twenty feetof the land, as to produce the effect of a whirlpool, while again,between the island and the Canadian shore, the current, always rapid andof great force, flew boiling down its channel, and with a violencealmost quadrupled.
Amid this uproar of the usually placid river, there was but one barkfound bold enough to venture upon her angered bosom, and this, althoughbut an epitome of those that have subdued the world of waters, andchained them in subservience to the will of man, now danced gallantly,almost terrifically, from billow to billow, and, with the featherylightness of her peculiar class, seemed borne onward, less by theleaping waves themselves than by the white and driving spray thatfringed their summits. This bark--a canoe evidently of the smallestdescription--had been watched in its progress, from afar, by the groupsassembled on the bank, who had gathered at each other's call, to witnessand marvel at the gallant daring of those who had committed it to theboiling element. Two persons composed her crew--the one sea
ted in thestern, and carefully guiding the bark so as to enable her to breast thethreatening waves, which, in quick succession, rose as if to accomplishher overthrow--the other standing at her bows, the outline of his upperfigure designed against the snow-white sail, and, with his arms foldedacross his chest, apparently gazing without fear on the danger whichsurrounded him. It was evident, from their manner of conducting thebark, that the adventurers were not Indians, and yet there was nothingto indicate to what class of the white family they belonged. Both wereclosely wrapped in short, dark-colored pea coats, and their heads weresurmounted with glazed hats--a species of costume that more thananything else proved their familiarity with the element whose brawlingthey appeared to brave with an indifference bordering on madness.
Such was the position of the parties at the moment when Henry Granthamgained the bank. Hitherto the canoe, in the broad reach that divided theisland from the American mainland, had had merely the turbulence of theshort heavy waves, and a comparatively modified current, to contendagainst. Overwhelming even as these difficulties would have proved tomen less gifted with the power of opposing and vanquishing them, theywere but light in comparison with what was to be overcome. The canoe wasnow fast gaining the head of the island, and pursuing a direct coursefor the whirlpool already described. The only means of avoiding this wasby closely hugging the shore between which and the violent eddy without,the water, broken in its impetuosity by the covering headland, presenteda more even and less agitated surface. This headland once doubled, thesafety of the adventurers was ensured, since, although the tremendouscurrent which swept through the inner channel must have borne themconsiderably downwards, still the canoe would have accomplished thetransit below the town in perfect safety. The fact of this opportunitybeing neglected, led at once to the inference that the adventurers weretotal strangers, and distinct voices were now raised by those on thebank, to warn them of their danger--but whether it was that they heardnot, or understood not, the warning was unnoticed. Once indeed it seemedas if he who so ably conducted the course of the bark, had comprehendedand would have followed, the suggestion so earnestly given, for his tinysail was seen to flutter for the first time in the wind, as with theintention to alter his course. But an impatient gesture from hiscompanion in the bow, who was seen to turn suddenly round and uttersomething, (which was however inaudible to those on shore,) againbrought the head of the fragile vessel to her original course, andonward she went, leaping and bounding, apparently with the design toclear the whirlpool at a higher point of the river.
Nothing short of a miracle could now possibly enable the adventurers toescape being drawn into the boiling vortex; and, during the moments thatsucceeded, every heart beat high with fearful expectation as to theresult. At length the canoe came with a sudden plunge into the verycentre of the current, which all the skill of the steersman wasinsufficient to enable him to clear. Her bow yawed, her little sailfluttered--and away she flew, broadside foremost, down the stream, withas little power of resistance as a feather or a straw. Scarcely had theeye time to follow her in this peculiar descent, when she was in thevery heart of the raging eddy. For a moment she reeled like a top, thenrolled two or three times over, and finally disappeared altogether.Various expressions of horror broke from the several groups of whitesand Indians, all of whom had anticipated the catastrophe without thepower of actively interposing. Beyond the advice that was given, not aword was uttered, but every eye continued fixed on the whirlpool, asthough momentarily expecting to see something issue from its bosom.After the lapse of a minute, a dark object suddenly presented itselfsome twenty yards below, between the island and town. It was the canoewhich, bottom upwards and deprived of its little mast and sail, hadagain risen to the surface, and was floating rapidly down with thecurrent. Presently afterwards two heads were seen nearly at the pointwhere the canoe had again emerged. They were the unfortunateadventurers, one of whom appeared to be supporting his companion withone arm, whilst with the other he dashed away the waters that bore themimpetuously along. The hats of both had fallen off, and as he whoexerted himself so strenuously, rose once or twice in the vigor of hisefforts above the element with which he contended, he seemed to presentthe grisly, woolly hair, and the sable countenance of an aged negro. Avague surmise of the truth now flashed upon the mind of the excitedofficer; but when, presently afterwards, he saw the powerful form oncemore raised, and in a voice that made itself distinctly heard above thehowling of the wind, exclaim, "Help a dare!" there was no longer adoubt, and he rushed towards the dock-yard, to gain which the exertionsof the negro were now directed.
On reaching it, he found both Gerald and his faithful attendant justtouching the shore. Aroused by the cry for help which Sambo had pealedforth, several of the workmen had quitted the shelter of theblock-houses in which they were lodged, and hastened to the rescue ofhim whom they immediately afterwards saw struggling furiously to freehimself and companion from the violent current. Stepping to theextremity on some loose timber which lay secured to the shore, yetfloating in the river--they threw out poles, one of which Sambo seizedlike an enraged mastiff in his teeth, and still supporting the body, andrepelling the water with his disengaged arm, in this manner succeeded ingaining the land. The crews of the little fleet, which lay armed ahundred yards lower down, had also witnessed the rapid descent of twoapparently drowning men, and ropes had everywhere been thrown out fromthe vessels. As for lowering a boat, it was out of the question; for noboat could have resisted the violence of the current, even for somehours after the storm had wholly ceased.
It may be easily conceived with what mingled emotions the generousHenry, whose anxiety had been so long excited in regard to his brother'sfate, now beheld that brother suddenly restored to him. Filled with anaffection that was rendered the more intense by the very fact of thedanger from which he had just seen him rescued, he, regardless of thosearound and in defiance of his wet and dripping clothes, sprang eagerlyto his embrace, but Gerald received him with a cold--almost averted air.Suffering, rather than sharing, this mark of fraternal love, he turnedthe instant afterward to his servant, and, in a tone of querulousnesssaid, "Sambo, give me wine."
Inexpressibly shocked, and not knowing what to think of this conduct,Henry bent his glance upon the negro. The old man shook his headmournfully, and even with the dripping spray that continued to fall fromhis woolly locks upon his cheeks, tears might be seen to mingle. Adreadful misgiving came over the mind of the youth, and he felt hisvery hair rise thrillingly, as he for a moment admitted the horriblepossibility, that the shock produced by his recent accident had affectedhis brother's intellect. Sambo replied to his master's demand, by saying"there was no wine--the canoe and its contents had been utterly lost."
All this passed during the first few moments of their landing. Thenecessity for an immediate change of apparel was obvious, and Gerald andhis servant were led into the nearest block house, where each of thehonest fellows occupying it was eager in producing whatever his rudewardrobe afforded. The brothers then made the best of their way,followed by the negro, to their own abode in the town.
The evening being damp and chilly, a fire was kindled in the apartmentin which Gerald dined--the same in which both had witnessed the dyingmoments of their mother, and Henry those of their father. It had beenchosen by the former, in the height of her malady, for its cheerfulness,and she had continued in it until the hour of her decease; while MajorGrantham had selected it for his chamber of death for the very reasonthat it had been that of his regretted wife. Henry, having alreadydined, sat at the opposite extremity of the table watching his brother,whose features he had so longed to behold once more; yet not without adeep and bitter feeling of grief, that those features should haveundergone so complete a change in their expression towards himself.Gerald had thrown off the temporary and ill-fitting vestments exchangedfor his own wet clothing, and now that he appeared once more in hiscustomary garb, an extraordinary alteration was perceptible in his wholeappearance. Instead of the blooming cheek, and
rounded and elegant form,for which he had always been remarkable, he now offered to the eye ofhis anxious brother, an emaciated figure, and a countenance pale even towanness--while evidence of much care and inward suffering might betraced in the stern contraction of his hitherto open brow. There wasalso a dryness in his speech that startled and perplexed even more thanthe change in his person. The latter might be the effect ofimprisonment, and its anxiety and privation, coupled with the exhaustionarising from his recent accident; but how was the first to be accountedfor, and wherefore was he, after so long a separation, and under suchcircumstances, thus incommunicative and unaffectionate? All thesereflections occurred to the mind of the sensitive Henry, as he satwatching, and occasionally addressing a remark to, his taciturn brother,until he became fairly bewildered in his efforts to find a clue to hisconduct. The horrible dread which had first suggested itself of thepartial overthrow of intellect, had passed away, but to this hadsucceeded a discovery attended by quite as much concern, althoughcreating less positive alarm. He had seen, with inexpressible pain, thatGerald ate but little, seeming rather to loathe his food, while on theother hand he had recourse more frequently to wine, drinking off bumperswith greedy avidity, until, yielding at length to the excess of hispotations, he fell fast asleep in the arm-chair he had drawn to thefire, overcome by the mingled influence of wine, fatigue and drowsiness.
Bitter were the feelings of Henry Grantham, as thus he gazed upon hissleeping brother. Fain would he have persuaded himself that the effecthe now witnessed was an isolated instance, and occurring only under thepeculiar circumstances of the moment. It was impossible to recal themanner in which he had demanded "wine" from their faithful old servantand friend, and not feel satisfied that the tone proclaimed him one whohad been in the frequent habit of repeating that demand, as the preparedyet painful manner of the black, indicated a sense of having been toofrequently called upon to administer to it. Alas, thought theheart-stricken Henry, can it really be, that he whom I have cherished inmy heart of hearts with more than brother's love, has thus fallen? HasGerald, formerly as remarkable for sobriety as for every honorableprinciple, acquired even during the months I have so wretchedly mournedhis absence, the fearful propensities of the drunkard? The bare ideaoverpowered him, and with difficulty restraining his tears, he rose fromhis seat, and paced the room for some time in a state of indescribableagitation. Then again he stopped, and when he looked in the sleepingface of his unconscious brother, he was more than ever struck by thestrange change which had been wrought in his appearance. Finding thatGerald still slept profoundly, he took the resolution of instantlyquestioning Sambo as to all that had befallen them during their absence,and ascertaining, if possible, to what circumstance the mystery whichperplexed him was attributable. Opening and reclosing the door withcaution, he hastened to the room which, owing to his years and long andfaithful services, had been set apart for the accommodation of the oldman when on shore. Here he found Sambo, who had dispatched hissubstantial meal, busily occupied in drying his master's wet dressbefore a large blazing wood fire--and laying out, with the same view,certain papers, the contents of a pocket-book which had been completelysaturated with water. A ray of satisfaction lighted the dark butintelligent face of the negro, which the instant before had worn anexpression of suffering, as the young officer, pressing his hand withwarmth, thanked him deeply and fervently for the noble, almostsuperhuman, exertions, he had made that day to preserve his brother'slife.
"Oh, Massa Henry!" was all the poor creature could say in reply, as hereturned the pressure with an emphasis that spoke his profoundattachment to both. Then leaning his white head upon his hand againstthe chimney, and bursting into tears--"berry much change, he poor broderGeral, he not a same at all."
Here was a sad opening indeed to the subject. The heart of the youthsank within him, yet feeling the necessity of knowing all connected withhis brother's unhappiness, he succeeded in drawing the old man intoconversation, and finally into a narration of all their adventures, asfar at least as he had personal knowledge, from the moment of theirleaving Detroit in the preceding autumn.
When, after the expiration of an hour, he returned to the drawing-room,Gerald was awake, and so far restored by his sound sleep as to be, notonly more communicative, but more cordial towards his brother. He evenreverted to past scenes, and spoke of the mutual events of their youth,with a cheerfulness bordering on levity; but this pained Henry the more,for he saw in it but the fruit of a forced excitement--as melancholy inadoption as pernicious in effect--and his own heart repugned allparticipation in so unnatural a gaiety, although he enforced himself toshare it to the outward eye. Fatigue at length compelled Gerald to courtthe quiet of his pillow, and, overcome as his senses were with wine, heslept profoundly until morning.
Matilda Montgomerie; Or, The Prophecy Fulfilled Page 20