The Life and Adventures of Maj. Roger Sherman Potter Part 6

"There you are wrong," retorted the nonresistant, "for the dog would have destroyed the wheat, and so carried the devil to the heart of the farmer, that he had gone to law, if, indeed, he had not killed the horse, and by so doing lost all power over his adversary.

Whereas, if he had spoken gently of the conduct of the horse, the owner would have been sorely grieved, and set about making good the damage, according to the promptings of his own heart."

The landlord hearing the nonresistant's voice, entered the room and ordered him to begone about his business, and seek some better employment than that of hectoring every traveler who chanced to put up at his inn. But the nonresistant replied that he was not to be insulted by a landlord who professed to keep a temperance house, and sold liquid death daily on the sly; nor would he leave the inn, in which he had a common right, until his own convenience dictated.

This so enraged the landlord, that although he was a little man, he seized the nonresistant by the collar, and would have forced him to leave the premises but that the other proved too strong for him.

Indeed the nonresistant, notwithstanding his principles, had well nigh divested the landlord of his coat, and done serious damage to his face, and was only ejected from the house by the timely a.s.sistance of the hostler and the bar tender.

CHAPTER XIV.

IN WHICH THE TOWN IS THROWN INTO A STATE OF ALARM, AND SUNDRY OTHER THINGS WORTH MENTIONING.

THE nonresistant, resolving to make the street his castle, stood for some minutes making grimaces, and hurling coa.r.s.e invective at the landlord, who, with sundry idlers, had gathered into the portico. He then took his leave, swearing to have satisfaction of his a.s.sailants, as Giles Sheridan, looking out at the window, said he should long remember the fellow for the courtesy he had manifested towards him.

Peace being restored, the landlord, his shirt ruffle in a sad plight, returned to apologize for the disturbance to his guests; while peeping in at the door, I saw Bessie, her black eyes almost swimming in tears, and evidently alarmed for my safety. Again Giles Sheridan spoke up and said: "It can be no good that brought the fellow hither. He must have been begotten under an evil star, and nursed by a virago. The fellow has but to take good care of his invective; and if he adopt the a.s.s instead of the madman, he may in time become an excellent critic." Here he paused, turned his head quickly, and frisked his fingers nervously through his straight, silvery hair. The clerical looking groom, hearing the little deformed man speak thus, led his young bride frightened to bed.

The lecturer now drew a much worn and almost illegible ma.n.u.script from his pocket, and commenced reading to me a few pa.s.sages from it, in a clear, shrill voice, and with much earnestness of manner. His love of approbation, I saw, was only equaled by his want of self-confidence, which made him anxious to hear what I would say of it. So I listened with more than ordinary attention while he read, and then expressed a firm belief that the people of Barnstable could not fail to appreciate his ascetics. This so encouraged him that his heart seemed beating with joy, and he warmed into enthusiasm, and read on, watching intently the changes of my countenance, as if he wished to read in them my fleeting thoughts. I was about to inquire whether it were good policy to measure public taste by one's own, when he paused, and heaving a sigh, said in a modulated tone of voice, that so many queer inquiries had been made of him respecting Crabbe, that he began to doubt whether he could interest the people in a discourse upon the character of one they had scarce heard of.

No longer ago than yesterday, he said, General Sam Wheeler, the popular high school committeeman, looked in to say, that it was getting all over Barnstable, and had very nearly got into the columns of the Patriot, that he had been got down by the evil agency of the anti-temperance men to lecture on a new process of making brandy from crab apples. And the Baptist clergyman rather encouraged this report, which was doing serious damage. I was told, too, that the subject of my lecture had been warmly debated by the ladies of the Orthodox Sewing Circle, where Mrs. Silas Heywood, who had written several strong articles for the Patriot, which journal adopted them as its own, was heard to declare emphatically that she had never heard of this man Crabbe, though she had read no end of books. Miss Bruce had been six quarters at the high-school, knew something of Latin and algebra, and had taken music lessons of Monsieur Pensin; but she had never heard of Crabbe until she read "Night and Morning," where, out of sheer affectation, as it seemed to her, she found that the author had made sundry quotations from him to adorn the heads of his chapters. As for Miss Leland, who had been two years abroad with her father and mother, and was supposed to know all about literature and the poets, she thought Mr. Crabbe could not be much, since she had not even heard of him while in England. Mr. Faulkner, the storekeeper, had not a book of Crabbe on his shelves, though he dealt largely in hardware and literature, and was a very respectable scholar. And Squire Brigham, the lawyer, who mixed himself up with other people's business a great deal, busied himself in saying: Crabbe must have been an obscure fellow, for though there was a pyramid of old books in his library, he had not one of this author's among them; and perhaps he ought to be thankful for it, for indeed Mrs. Forbush had said to him in confidence, that she understood of the little deformed man that Crabbe had written some very bad things of lawyers. Mrs. Forbush went regularly to Boston to get the fashions and attend the Lowell lectures; Mrs.

Forbush had written a religious novel for the "Olive Branch;" Mrs.

Forbush said, who would have thought of giving such a looking little creature five dollars and his victuals for lecturing upon such a subject

The cry of fire without, and the loud peals of an alarm bell, suddenly threw the town and the tavern into a state of great excitement. Giles Sheridan stopped short in his discourse, and the inmates of the house rushed in great agitation into the street. The alarm spread rapidly, and people began to run in every direction but the right one. One declared it a false alarm. That it was set on foot to afford recreation for the mischievous, another was quite sure. A third was ready to swear he saw the incendiary run down "the lane." People ran in opposite directions, crying fire. People, wayward and confused, were endeavoring to persuade one another that the scene of the fire was not in the direction they were going, though neither smoke nor flame could be seen in any part of the town. And while the people were thus confused, an harsh and grating voice cried out that the fire was down the lane, a narrow pathway that led from one part of the town to another. The confused figures of men who had stood contemplating here and there about the square, now rushed down the lane, and soon came in hearing of moans and lamentations, which grew louder and louder, as of one in great distress. "Oh! unworthy sinner that I am, let every man exert himself to remedy this misfortune!" a stifled voice was heard to cry out, as a crowd, having gathered round a pit, where some workmen had been digging for a well, discovered no less a person at the bottom, half buried in sand and water, than Major Roger Potter. "Peace, good man, and thy misfortune shall be remedied soon," said the Orthodox clergyman, who was among the alarmists, and, notwithstanding his accustomed frigidity, could scarce suppress a smile at seeing the major cut so sorry a figure. The clergyman now ordered the bystanders, who were much more inclined to enjoy the joke, to bring ropes, and a.s.sist in relieving the distressed man, who, if not a friend of the church, was at least a Christian. "Aye, aye,"

responded the major, "and be not long about it, for the sand is caving in, and I feel the devil fingering my toes." Seeing the people come to his relief, the major regained his courage, (for when discovered he was nearly frightened out of his wits,) and began heaping curses upon the head of the miscreant who had laid so diabolical a plot against his life. Indeed, he stubbornly refused to be convinced that it was anything else than a trick of his enemies to rob him of his military t.i.tle. In fine, he declared to the parson, who several times rebuked him for his free use of profane adjectives, that nothing but his good will for mankind in general prevented him from taking summary vengeance of his enemies with his sword, which, fortunately for those who were making light of his distress, he had left at home. It was not that he set so high a value upon his life, for he had shown while in the Mexican War that he was not wanting in valor, and was ready at any moment to sacrifice it to his honor; but it sorely grieved him to think of what a loss the nation and Barnstable would suffer in his death by falling into a pit.

The rabble, as he called those who had come to his relief, now began to jeer him, and to demand of him a speech, merely to occupy the time while ropes necessary to his deliverance were being brought.

This so enraged the major, that in addition to swearing he would not be drawn up by such a set of inhuman rascals, he commenced to curse his hard fate. A few moments more and he became calm, and looking up beseechingly in the clergyman's face, which was reflected by the light of a lantern, he enjoined him to hasten to his wife, Polly Potter, and tell her of the plight he was in. She had never forsaken him in his misfortunes. But the clergyman was scrupulous of his dignity, and not fancying the strong quality of the expletives he was using, took his leave, saying he could not waste sympathy upon one who so far forgot his afflictions as to take the name of the Lord in vain.

Ropes were now at hand, and amidst much laughter and jeering, the major was relieved from his perilous position, not, however, until his face had received some bruises and his garments much injury. The crowd now professed so much affection for him, that he began to deplore the loss of his temper, and to offer apologies for what he had said when in the pit, which were readily accepted, with regrets for his misfortune. Indeed, he inwardly congratulated himself that he had not lost a whit of his political or military popularity, and that the mishap was one of those peculiar interpositions of Providence which may occur in the life of any great man. As to the oaths that had lost him the friendship of the clergyman, he regretted them from the very bottom of his heart, and hoped his friends, in the exercise of that generosity they had ever evinced for him, would set them down to the bewildered and confused state of his faculties. Hoping he would never again be in a condition to merit their jokes, the major bowed in the politest manner, and turned to take his departure, adding that he would have to perform certain offices pleasing to his wife, Polly. He had, however, no sooner turned his back, than the crowd gave out shouts of laughter, seeing the condition his nether garments were in. Being unconscious of the cause, the major mistook their shouts for a manifestation of his popularity, and having paused to acknowledge it with a bow, continued on his way as the crowd dispersed.

It seems that the mischievous urchins, on seeing the major enter the tavern, mounted his team and drove several times round the town, the pig and chickens keeping up a medley of noise that seriously annoyed numerous peaceably-disposed citizens. And having satisfied their mischievous propensities, they left old Battle to himself, knowing that he would keep faith with his master. Finding his faithful animal gone, when he issued from the tavern, the major, not doubting the steady habits of his horse, very naturally believed that he had taken his way home, and thus forestalled his arrival. The only thing that caused him any fear was, that some accident might occur to his live stock. He therefore took the shortest road home, and so completely absorbed in the contemplation of his profits, and of the prospect of another chance for political fame, was he, that he hastened on regardless of the planks the workmen had placed round the well they were digging, and of which he became conscious only when he had tumbled some twenty feet to the bottom. Beginning to sink deeper and deeper in the sand, from which all his efforts to extricate himself failed, he set up a cry of fire, regarding it the one which would soonest bring him relief. And this cry he bawled until he sent the whole town into a state of excitement.

And now, since I have exhausted the limits of my chapter, I must reserve what took place between the major and his wife Polly, and how she almost fainted at seeing him enter the house in so shattered a condition, for another chapter.

CHAPTER XV.

IN WHICH THERE IS AN INTERESTING MEETING BETWEEN MAJOR POTTER AND HIS WIFE POLLY.

MAJOR ROGER SHERMAN POTTER lived in a little red house in the outskirts of the town of Barnstable. There were two crabbed little windows in front, for it could boast of but one story, and a narrow green door, over which a prairie rose bush cl.u.s.tered, as if to hide its infirmity. A small window, reminding one of a half closed jacknife, and in which were two earthen flower pots containing mignonnette, set jauntily upon the roof, which was so covered with black moss, that it was impossible to tell whether it was shingled or tiled. Indeed such was the shattered condition of the little tenement, that you might easily have imagined it suffering from a forty years' attack of chronic disease, and quite unfit for the habitation of so great a military hero. The major, however, had a peculiar faculty for reconciling humbleness with greatness, and always overcame the remonstrances of his wife, (who was continually urging the necessity of a larger tenement, in accordance with their advanced popularity,) by reminding her that General Scott, who was a great military hero, and to whom the nation owed a debt of grat.i.tude it had no notion of discharging until after his death, was kept poor and humble by the nation, merely for its own convenience. In truth, whenever Polly Potter upbraided the major for not keeping up proper appearances, he would mutter so that her ears could not escape the meaning, that rags might cover a n.o.bleman, while the knave might scent his fine linen with the perfumes of Arabia. In reply to this, Polly would remind him in her own way, that tattered garments and good society were not the fashion of the day, and seldom went together.

"Well, here I am, wife! in an unsuitable condition, I confess," said the major, stalking into his little habitation, and embracing his wife, who had been waiting his coming in great anxiety, seeing that old Battle had arrived nearly an hour previous, with the tin wagon in a very disordered condition. "Heavens! my faithful husband, my dear good husband, what has happened?" shrieked his wife, standing aghast for a moment, and then throwing herself almost fainting into his arms, as two shy looking and ill clad little girls, and a boy of some twelve years old, clung about her garments, and commenced to cry with all the might of their lungs. The major's wife was a slender, meekly attired woman, with exceedingly sharp features, a bright, watchful eye, evincing great energy of character, and a complexion which might be considered a compromise between the color of Dr. Townsend's sarsaparilla and the daintiest olive-induced, as the major afterwards told me, by bilious disorder.

The major was at a loss how to account to his wife for his shattered condition, nor was he conscious of the disordered state of his nether garments, the rent in which had been made larger by the process of getting him out of the pit. However, as her recovery was almost as sudden as her notion to faint, and seeing that nothing serious had resulted therefrom, he placed her in a chair, and commenced recounting to her how he got into the pit, which he swore, and made her believe, was set for him by his enemies, who had for many years bore him great malice, in consequence of his fame, which, G.o.d knows, he had worked hard enough to gain. "La's me, husband,"

said the artless woman, making him a return of her affections; "it's just what I've a dozen times told you they'd do, if they'd only a sly chance. There's Robins Dobson, who has been trying for years to be Major of the Invincibles, and it's just what his wife wants. She wants to see his name, with the t.i.tle 'tached, in the Patriot some mornin'. Poor folks has a hard enough time to get up in the world, and when they gets up, everybody wants to pull 'em down. That's the way the world goes." As it had always been a custom with the good woman to believe no greater military character than the major ever lived-an opinion he shared to the fullest extent-so was it the most pleasing thing with him to reciprocate the honor by a.s.serting, whenever an opportunity offered, that history afforded no example of a military hero ever before being blessed with so good a wife.

Indeed I very much doubt whether there ever existed a heaven in which love, joy, and mutual confidence were so liberally exchanged as in this, the major's little tenement. As for furniture, it could boast of but little, and that of the shabbiest kind. It was true, there was a print of General Scott hung upon the discolored wall, and another of Zack Taylor, and another of General Pierce, mounted upon a ferocious-looking charger, and about to demonstrate his courage (not in attacking the lines of an enemy) by rushing into the thickest of a hailstorm. By these, especially the latter, Polly Potter set great store, inasmuch as they ill.u.s.trated the major's taste for the profession of which he was so ill.u.s.trious a member. I had almost forgotten to mention, while enumerating the portraits of these great generals, that there was hanging over the tea-table (as if to do penance for some grievous wrong committed against that venerable inst.i.tutution) a picture of General Webb, who had distinguished himself in several great battles, fought in the columns of an almost pious newspaper, published in Wall Street, New York, and whom Polly Potter verily believed, having heard it of the neighbors, to be a wonderful diplomatist, which was rare in so great a general.

"And now, seeing that we have had but scanty fare for the week past, and have got deeply in debt to the grocer, who has twice threatened to take our little things for pay, pray tell us of your voyage, and what success you have met with;" said the good woman, which reminded the major of his neglect of his faithful horse, which, in reply to a question concerning his arrival, he was told had come safely home, and been put in the barn, but without either pig or chickens. The major was not a little surprised on hearing this account of his team, and repaired at once to the barn, where he found old Battle a little jaded, but otherwise in his usual good condition, and as ready as ever to acknowledge the caresses of his kind master. To his utter astonishment neither pig nor chickens, upon which he had set so much store, as const.i.tuting the larger half of his available profits, were to be seen. He now swore either that the town was full of thieves, or that it was another trick of his enemies to deprive him of the means of sustaining his hard-earned reputation. His wife now, evincing great grief at the sad misfortune, held the lantern while he counted his skins and tin ware, which he found to tally exactly with his account of stock, which he kept on a dingy slip of paper, with the exactness of a cotton broker. "Curse on these enemies of mine; they are all an evil minded set of blockheads!"

e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the major, pausing to consider a moment, and then heaving a sigh. "Husband, curse not your enemies," enjoined the confiding woman, "for the Scripture teacheth that we must pray for them; and you know we have much need of being exalted above them."

"I leave what the Scripture teacheth to Parson Boomer," interrupted the major, "who deals in that sort of commerce. Scripture, as I take it, has little to do with one's military reputation. And, may the devil take me if I don't think military men get it right nine times out of ten, and won't be far behind them in getting to heaven, (I mean the parsons,) unless they look well to the state of their morals."

Being very short, and stout, and singularly duck-legged withal, the major, having had his attention called to the condition of his garments, drew forth his cotton handkerchief and hung it about his loins, as a means of protecting the exposed state of his battery.

Thus protected in his dignity, he resolved that his wife should bear him company, and together they would sally down the road a mile or two, in search of his lost live stock. As this necessarily incurred some danger to his person, which it required courage to overcome, he thought it well to step into the house and get his sword, a weapon that never failed him, and with which, according to his own account, he had killed innumerable Mexicans. Having girded on this venerable weapon, he came forth as never before did military hero, swearing to have satisfaction of every enemy who chanced in his way.

Let it be understood by all my military acquaintances, that I mean no offence in what I have here written. Nor must it be inferred because I have thus accoutered the major, who must be set down for a military politician, that such is the fashion with all great majors and colonels; for indeed history furnishes no account of their going to war with what is generally accepted as their most vital parts protected with pocket handkerchiefs, not even when fleeing before the enemies' bullets. Nor would this history sustain the reputation for truth I have from the beginning resolved it shall maintain with generations yet unborn, were I to leave unrecorded this act of heroism, seeing that it has so many counterparts among those who affect the profession of arms, and are honest enough in their belief that the nation's battles cannot be fought without them.

And now, having prepared himself for a tilt with a.s.sailants, rather than a search for his pig and poultry, he strode forth, his wife following a few steps behind, lantern in hand, and so regulating the shadow as not to obstruct his vision. Being a woman of great kindness, and much given to religion, his wife would pause every few steps, and enjoin the major to treat his adversary, if any he should chance to meet, with great consideration. There was no knowing, she said, but that it might all be the work of some mischievous boys.

"That may be, wife; but they are set on by older heads. There's Captain Tom Baker, and Sergeant Prentice, of the Invincibles, in it somewhere! And they'll never stop molesting me until they have felt the weight of this sword!" returned the major, touching the hilt of his sword, and quickening his pace.

They had not proceeded far, when the rippling of a brook, and a slight rustling of leaves among some bushes by the roadside, caused the major to halt suddenly, half unsheath his sword, and place himself in an att.i.tude of defence. "I said we should find them, wife; and may the devil take me if I don't make dead men of them in a trice."

"Truly, husband, it is only the wind and the brook you hear, and which, at this hour of the night, sounds very like the talking of conspiring men," interupted the woman, as if to encourage the major, who shrugged his shoulders, and began to show signs of fear in the backward and cautious movement of his steps. "As I hope to be saved, wife," returned our hero, in a modified tone of voice, "though it takes more than a trifle to alarm me, who has seen much service in Mexico, I am not mistaken. A vagabond of some kind lurks in the bushes yonder, for I heard his voice as distinctly as if it had been bawled into my ears. There! hear you not the sound of his footsteps?

Go you ahead with the light, and leave the rest to me."

"Pray, husband, do not let your fancies lead you to rash acts."

"Rash acts?" rejoined the major, "to kill a score of such lurking vagabonds would only be doing good service for the devil, who merits one's aid now and then." In evidence of her faith in the cause of the sounds, the good woman advanced forward, and, followed by the major, with his sword drawn and braced, they proceeded cautiously on over the bridge, though not until our hero had several times stopped to listen, which he declared was enjoined by every rule of the profession, and was a means to avoid surprise while advancing upon an enemy.

Having ascended the brow of a hill, a short distance beyond the bridge, it was agreed between the major and his wife, that, being out of danger, they might now look more after the lost property and think less of a.s.sailants. The major, in the meantime, commenced giving his wife an account of the pig's knowing qualities, which, together with a description of the eccentric swine driver, amused her not a little. If the pig, she argued, was possessed of one half the gifts set down to him, he would take care of himself for the night; and as to the chickens, not even the black people who lived on the hill, would think of coming out at night to steal them-for though they were proverbially fond of keeping a large poultry yard, and not over scrupulous of the means by which they supplied it-they were too sparing of their energies to waste them at that hour of night. She therefore enjoined that they return peaceably home, and leave the search to be resumed at daylight. The major admitted the reason of his wife's argument, but declared his determination to traverse the road round and return by way of the tavern. It might, in truth, betray a want of courage, did he retrace his steps at this stage of the road.

"As to courage, husband," said his wife, holding the lantern so near that the shadow reflected over his broad face, "I am sure you have already proved that you are not wanting in that; and as there are but a few hours until daylight, we had as well go home and get us comfortably to bed." The figure of a man, whose dusky shadow reflected along the fence, was now seen approaching in the road. The major had no sooner descried him, than he fell in with his wife's opinion, and as a practical ill.u.s.tration of his faith in it, commenced retracing his steps so fast that it was with much difficulty she could keep up with him. Looking neither to the right nor the left, he continued on until he had gained the house, from the door of which he turned to look back, when, finding the figure had vanished, he said with an air of regained courage, that it was not that he feared the miscreant, but having a wife and three children dependent upon him, he could not hope for forgiveness were he to risk his valuable life in combat with a lurking vagabond. He therefore shut the door, partook of an humble supper, and went quietly to bed, leaving the pig and chickens to take care of themselves until daylight.

CHAPTER XVI.

WHEREIN IS RECORDED EVENTS WHICH TOOK PLACE ON THE DAY FOLLOWING THE MAJOR'S ARRIVAL AT BARNSTABLE, WITH SUNDRY OTHER QUEER THINGS.