A HERALD OF THE WEST
By J. A. ALTSHELER.
Each, lamo, cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 50 cents.
A Soldier of Manhattan,
And his Adventures at Ticonderoga and Quebec.
" A graphic and rarely entertaining display of historical lore." Boston Herald.
" The story is told in such a simple, direct way that it holds the reader's interest to the end, and gives a most ac curate picture of the times." Boston Transcript.
" Graphic and intensely interesting. . . . The book may be warmly commended as a good specimen of the fiction that makes history real and living." San Francisco Chronicle.
The Sun of Saratoga*
A Romance of Burgoyne's Surrender.
"Taken altogether, 'The Sun of Saratoga* is the best historical novel of American origin that has been written for years, if not, indeed, in a fresh, simple, unpretending, unlabored, manly way, that we have ever read.'' New York Mail and Express.
" 'The Sun of Saratoga' is one of the best bits of his torical fiction that has appeared for a long time." Brook lyn Eagle.
"A sprightly and spirited romance, gracefully written in a crisp, fresh style that is simply delightful to read." Philadelphia Press.
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
A HERALD OF THE WEST
AN AMERICAN STORY OF 1811-1815
BY
JOSEPH A. ALTSHELER
AUTHOR OF A SOLDIER OF MANHATTAN, THE SUN OF SARATOGA, ETC.
NEW YORK D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
1898
COPYRIGHT, 1898, BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY.
AUTHOR'S NOTE.
IN this historical romance the hero, who tells his own tale, is supposed to speak with the feeling of a Western American of his time, and not with the colder and more critical judgment of a later day. His attitude toward Europe, and particularly toward Great Britain, is caused by the events of the War of 1812 and of the years im mediately preceding it, when the death struggle of Britain and Bonaparte drew the whole civilized world into war, including the United States, distant and detached though the latter was from the European system. It is admitted by all historians 'that the rights of weak neutrals, such as the United States then was, received no respect from either of the great contending powers, and the author believes that we had more cause to complain of Great Britain than of France, because Great Britain had more ability, and not more willingness, to do us harm. It is perhaps true also that in the early years of the century the British, as Mr. Ten Broeck remarks in the course of his narrative, showed us the worse and not the better side of their nature; and a careful study of this period confirms the author in his belief that the ill feeling once so widely prevalent in the United States against our mother coun try, Great Britain, now happily passing away, and per-
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haps wholly removed by recent events, had its origin more in the War of 1812 and its causes than in the War of Independence. Perhaps if Mr. Ten Broeck had lived at a later time he would have modified some of his opinions concerning the parent nation.
Mr. Ten Broeck's attitude, moreover, is that of an American of the West, one who distrusts the politics and manners, even the art, of Europe, and fears that his brethren of the East have been touched a little too much by influences from that source, sacrificing some of the stronger and greater virtues for the sake of forms and refinement a belief which many Americans who lived west of the Alleghanies held at that time. No doubt what he saw in the East gave him another view of this subject.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PACK
I. MR. CLAY is SPEAKING 1
II. A LADY AND OTHERS 14
III. FROM THE OTHER SIDE 22
IV. A MEETING BY THE RIVER 32
V. A CABINET SESSION 47
VI. THE LONE CABIN 58
VII. I RECEIVE A COMMISSION 73
VIII. A JOURNEY IN THE WORLD 80
IX. ON A FRENCH DECK 90
X. ANOTHER SIDE OF A PURITAN 110
XI. WE SEE A PLAY 126
XII. AT THE DUELLING GROUND 138
XIII. AN ARRIVAL FROM THE SOUTH 151
XIV. IN THE ENEMY'S CAMP 165
XV. WHAT WE SAW IN NEW YORK BAY . . . .182
XVI. BEFORE THE PRESIDENT AGAIN 191
XVII. THE FIRST MESSAGE FROM THE WEST . . . 197
XVIII. CONVERGING EVENTS 212
XIX. THE APOSTLE OF PEACE 219
XX. THE GUNS OF THE CONSTITUTION .... 224
XXI. THE COMING OF THE FOE 228
XXII. THE BLADENSBURG RACES 239
XXIII. A NIGHT OF DEFEAT 257
XXIV. THE RULER OF A NATION 269
XXV. OVER THE MOUNTAINS 282
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CJJA1TEB PAGE
XXVI. AFLOAT ON THE GHEAT RIVERS .... 2 ( J'l XXVII. THE WAY OF ANDREW JACKSON .... 299
XXVIII. SENTENCED 308
XXIX. THE NIGHT BATTLE 316
XXX. AT BAY 334
XXXI. THE EIGHTH OF JANUARY, 1815 . . . .340
XXXII. A GIRL IN WHITE . 359
A HERALD OF THE WEST.
CHAPTER I.
MR. CLAY IS SPEAKING.
THE look on Major Northcote's face could not be read with ease. His eyes contracted slightly, and there was a faint twist in the corners of his mouth, but it would not have been fair to say that he was scoffing; perhaps toler ance or good-humoured indifference would have been the better way to put it, and such was my conclusion after studying his strong features. He plucked once or twice in a meditative way at his short gray beard, and then said to me:
" He speaks well for a stripling."
I did not like his use of the word " stripling," and there was, too, a shade in his tone which I thought should not have been there.
" He is young," I said, " but not altogether a strip ling. He is older than either Pitt or Fox, when they be came famous throughout Europe."
" True, true," he said, increasing slightly the con traction of his eye. " I had forgotten them for the mo ment. But he has just come out of the woods."
" And may not the woods contain wisdom? "
He made no reply, but drummed idly with his fingers, the one upon the other, while the look upon his face showed high-bred weariness. His manner annoyed me, and I would have said more, something a little stronger,
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but he was my kinsman, though a distant one; moreover, the music of the speaker's voice filled my ears, and the logic of his words held my mind.
My feelings, as I listened to the senator, were very different from those which seemed to he Major North- cote's, though the reasons were good why his point of view should be unlike mine. To me the speaker seemed a hero and a prophet. Nor was I alone in this tribute to his power. No sound was heard in the chamber save his voice. The senators waited in eager silence for every word that was spoken by the youngest and greatest of them all. Hearing him, I was proud that he was a Ken- tuckian, and that I too was one.
He stood near the window. The heavy crimson cur tains were drawn back, and the light, filtering through the squares of coloured glass, fell in softened red and blue and gold upon his face. He looked very young to be a senator, but his youth was only one of his attrac tions. He was tall, straight, and slender, his face shaven clean, every feature clear cut and full of expression, the whole more Greek than Roman.
The gift of golden speech is given to but few, and, of all whom I have known, to him alone in perfection. He had small use for gestures, a motion of the hand now and then, for the sake of emphasis, and that was all; his voice clear and full,
each word uttered distinctly, needed no aid; its melody charmed the senses, and his logic convinced the mind.
"What is the strife of England and Bonaparte, the reckless ambition of each to rule the world, to us?" he asked. " Why should we be dragged into it when we ask for nothing but to be let alone and to build up our nation as we see fit? To France we may owe some debt of grati tude, but not to Bonaparte. To England we owe noth ing but dislike and distrust. To what do kindred blood and common laws and language amount, when we have endured nothing from her for half a lifetime but insults
MR. CLAY IS SPEAKING. 3
and wrongs? In all that time she has pursued us with a malignity to which I know no equal. In her books and newspapers she says we are without truth, honesty, or courage. She has plundered and confiscated our ships on every sea, though there is no war between us. Thou sands of our sailors, taken from their own vessels by su perior force, are serving on hers. Her war fleets keep watch at the entrance to every port of this country and rob our merchant vessels at their leisure, adding to the wrong every circumstance of arrogance and insult that a strong nation can devise for a weak one."
He paused for a moment, his eyes flashing and the angry blood rising to his face.
I felt my own blood flowing in a hot torrent through my veins. "We of the West and South knew our enemy. We knew who had sharpened the Indian tomahawk against us to fill the border with atrocities whose full story can not be put on paper. If our brethren of the East would submit to their wrongs, we at least could re sent them for them and our own too.
" He seems to feel what he says," said Major North- cote carelessly, " but doubtless he is ill informed. It is easy enough to work one's self into a passion over things that do not exist."
" They do not exist only for those who refuse to see them," I said. " To us every word he speaks is true, and the better part of England has long admitted that it is so."
" A man who endures one wrong only prepares to en dure another," continued the speaker. " This is not a world of universal humanity and justice; it seems to me that at the pr esent time it is a world of universal ag gression by the strong upon the weak. What has our peace policy brought upon us but continued and more violent assaults by England? Have you forgotten the attack upon the Chesapeake and the murder of her sailors by the English, and that we have not received any repa-
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ration or even apology for it, though four years have passed since that event? Have you forgotten the murder of Pierce in New York Harbour itself by the English? Have you forgotten that we have an Indian war now in the Northwest, incited and encouraged by the English? We shall never know peace until we make war with the English, and fight it through as best we can."
I wanted to applaud, to make known to all how much I liked his words and how deeply I felt their truth. The policy of turning the left cheek when the other has been smitten may be good enough for men who are will ing to become martyrs and take their glory that way, but it means disgrace and ruin for a nation, at least in our day.
Major Northcote continued to drum with his fingers, and was looking critically at the speaker, as if he would put him through some process of analysis and decide to what part of the animal kingdom he belonged. He did not seem to me to take the attack in a manner becoming a United Empire Loyalist, who should have been full of wrath at these attacks upon his beloved England, more wrathful even than an Englishman, and at that time they arrogated to themselves the exclusive possession of all the virtues; while the Loyalists, being merely step sons, were compelled to boast their attachment still more loudly.
The speaker had paused again, as if to gather his strength and ideas for another effort, while the words al ready spoken were making their impression upon the minds of the senators. The faces of some, the greater number, showed appreciation and belief; others shrugged their shoulders or turned their eyes away, as if the orator had violated preconceived opinions. None applauded, nor did any express dissent by word or noisy movement. The chamber was quite still, waiting the will of the speaker, for in those days our Senate considered gravity necessary to its being.
MR. CLAY IS SPEAKING. 5
Where we were the talk was all of war; outside we saw nothing but peace. The scrub oaks and alders that cov ered the marshy ground between the Capitol and the White House nodded in the sharp February breeze. Some negro boys played lazily in the half-made and muddy streets, and the smoke rose from cabins which still defied the advance of the newly decreed Capitol. Two men on a hanging platform were at work on the white sandstone walls of the President's house. Beyond shone the broad Potomac, but around everything converged the wilderness, almost primeval, creeping up even to the walls of the Capitol and the White House, and thrusting long arms of bushes and dense scrub between the buildings of the Government, isolating and surrounding each, as if threat ening to return and reconquer the little ground that we had won with so much use of the axe and spade.
An old man, a senator from New England, took ad vantage of the pause and rose to question the speaker.
" Suppose we declare war on England, how are we to make it, Mr. Clay? " he asked.
Major Northcote looked at him with a slight increase of interest.
" Eeally, that is not an impertinent question," he whispered to me. " There is some disproportion is there not? between the armies and navies and military re sources of Great Britain and this country. It might be well to inquire into it."
I knew the disproportion, but I said with some heat:
" It is because of this power, and because she thinks us so weak, that Great Britain has inflicted so many wrongs upon us. This is your great and glorious nation, your leader of civilization, a mere bully! "
He spoke soothingly of my youth and prejudiced sources of information. He thought that when I was older and had seen more of the world I would change my opinions. Then both of us stopped talking and
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waited to hear whether the speaker would reply to the question of the New England senator.
" It is true," he said, " that England has an abun dance of military resources, and we but few. But we can increase what we have, and justice and the spirit of the people are on our side. And if we do not fight, it is cer tain that our condition, bad as it is now, will grow worse. At a given point the limit of human endurance is reached, and we have reached it. We have tried pro tests, embargoes, and every device but the sword, and all have failed. Is it better to submit peacefully to ruin, or to make a fair fight for a place among the nations? I tell you, gentlemen, there is nothing left but the sword, and we must try its edge if we are not to be crushed."
Borne on by the force of his feelings, he shook a long forefinger in the face of the assembled senators, and his voice rose as he pronounced the last words. More than ever I marked its curiously penetrating quality. It swelled steadily and easily in volume, filling the room and making its own echo once and again in our ears.
I was lifted up by the enthusiasm of his words, and I began to hope that fortune might be induced this once to incline to the side of right, and not of might. The sense of our wrongs grew sharper, and I wished the decla ration of war to be made before we left the chamber.
" It is true," I repeated to Major Northcote; " every word that he says is gospel truth. We must fight to live, and since Britain, who should be our best friend, is our worst enemy, it is she whom we must fight."
He smiled gently, like a man who would restrain himself under any provocation, saying that a declaration of war by us would at least be rash, and his manner at that moment was irritating, whether or not he intended it so.
The debate continued with increasing heat, though the courtesies were always preserved, the Western and Southern senators desiring war, while those from New England and some of the Middle States were as emphat'c
MR. CLAY IS SPEAKING. 7
for peace. I could not understand the minds of the New England men.
The old New E
ngland senator, then speaking, had been eager for armed resistance to all the might of Eng land over a small matter of taxation forty years before, when we were but a fringe of colonies on the seaboard; but now that we were an independent nation, with num bers twice as great, he preached non-resistance and sub mission, while England armed the Indian tribes against us, impressed our sailors, plundered and confiscated our merchant ships, blockaded all our ports with her fleets, and had even fired into one of our war ships, taking advantage of a condition which rendered her un able to resist. Yet, with no visible sense of shame, this old man stood there and pleaded for the cause which he had made his, alleging our weakness, the lack of an or ganized army, and the enormous risks we would run, al though forty years before he had taken no thought of these things, when the risks were greater.
I looked at the Vice-President to see which side was his choice, but Mr. Clinton gave no sign that he inclined to either. He leaned back in his chair, facing the Sen ate over which he presided, and his plump red face, with its thick fringe of gray hair, was sunk almost between his shoulders. The coloured lights from the windows played curious pranks with his broad face, now turning his red cheeks to yellow, tipping his nose with blue, and then giving him a wide band of scarlet across the fore head. But he listened as if half asleep to all the talk, while his gavel lay motionless in his hand. Mr. Clay had resumed his seat, and was reading some letters a messenger had brought to him.
" While it is true that we have suffered wrongs," said the New England senator, "we have every proof now that the peaceful policy is best for us; England has prom ised to stop the impressment of our seamen and the seizure of our ships."
Altsheler, Joseph - [Novel 05] Page 1