The Puddleford Papers Part 24

Turtle declared, "it didn't make any difference what the Squire's _brother_ did, or did not do--it didn't help the Squire any. He guessed the Squire's blood had Peter'd out."

The Squire said, "he was the last man to boast of his relations, but blood was blood, whatever they might say."

On the famous night when the election came off, the tavern of Bulliphant was crowded. A dozen or more ragged urchins, who had been barred out by authority contained in the notice, had cl.u.s.tered around the windows, and were gazing in with awe upon the a.s.semblage. The "wimin" had been admitted by special grace, and occupied the adjoining rooms. It was a most momentous occasion--a great day for Puddleford--"it looked so much like war," as Aunt Sonora said, "as if they were a-goin' to fight right off."

The Squire rose, after the crowd had gathered, and said, "the first thing in order was to drink--it wouldn't be proper to enter into any important military business, without first drinking to our common country--and he wished the land_lud_ to set on a gallon of baldface--the Puddleford name for whiskey--so the wheels could be started right."

"And another thing," exclaimed Turtle; "we want the American flag and an eagle, these 'ere glorious symbols that went along with our forefathers when they were a fightin' for the liberties of our country!" but as Puddleford had no flag, a compromise was made, and the meeting concluded to nail a shilling pocket-handkerchief, which had one painted on it, to the bar, leave out the eagle, and take the whiskey.

Squire Longbow took the chair, and said, "he would listen to anything the meetin' had to say. He was by la' inspector of elections."

Turtle objected--"he didn't know whether he'd take the chair or not--that was for the meetin' to say."

The Squire said, "he took it by virtue of bein' a member of the board of inspectors of township elections--and this was one of 'em--a regular township 'lection, and nothin' else, held by authority of la', under the statert, past and 'proved, and sent him as justis to be lived up to."

Turtle replied, "he didn't see how the Squire was a _board_ of inspectors; 'cordin' to his own showin'--where's the township clerk, and where's the supervisor--have you swallow'd 'em all up, Mr. Longbow?" He objected, and he wanted his objection noted--taken down in black and white.

The Squire said, "that was _their_ business--if they neglected the defence of our common country, _he_ couldn't help it--he meant to be a patriot, and stand up to the const.i.tution and staterts, if every man in Puddleford turned traitor." The Squire swelled out very large, after concluding this speech.

At this point, Aunt Sonora, who was intently absorbed in the earnestness which pervaded the meeting, and who sat in the next room, rose, and asked the Squire "if there was really goin' to be war?"

The Squire replied, "that the meetin' must not be disturbed; the wimin had been let in as a great favor--for he didn't think the statert meant to have a soul on 'em present, and he didn't know but jest that thing would blow all the proceedin's to flinders in the higher courts, and that _every soul_ on 'em would be court-martialed."

Aunt Sonora slunk out of sight, drew her handkerchief, and heaved a long sigh.

Turtle rose and said, "he would nominate the Colonel captain of the first militia company of Puddleford."

"That's straight agin la'!" exclaimed the Squire; "that makes a _vivy vocy_ vote on't, and we can't take any _vivy vocy_ vote here; this 'ere thing has got-ter go through the town ballot-box, or it won't be legal--this vote must be returned in form to the governor, and if _he_ should see it was a _vivy vocy_ vote, he'd squash everything quicker'n you could say Jack Robinson." The Squire didn't like the nomination--he was determined to be captain himself.

Turtle asked the Squire "if a hat would not do to collect votes?"

The Squire said, "nothing short of the legally authorized boxes; he couldn't trample down the la'."

The legally authorized boxes were procured, and the voting was ready to go forward.

Hereupon the Squire arose, and blowing his nose with one finger, a side at a time, and heaving a few sepulchral hems, said "that it was his duty to say a few words: He was something of a military man himself--he belonged to the Hos Guards down in the Susquehannas, when he was a young man, a great many years ago, and they had sham fights most every year." ("Was anybody killed?" exclaimed Aunt Sonora, who had forgotten herself, and whose nerves had been shocked by hearing the word "fight.")

The Squire turned to Aunt Sonora, and declared that "it was the last time she _should_ speak. They had sham fights most every year," continued the Squire, "and he recollected that, while pursuin' the enemy in an open field, he fell from his horse, and bruised his head, but he caught his horse agin, and jined his company, 'fore anybody knew what had happened."

Turtle rose, and inquired, "What he put on his head? If it warn't opod.i.l.d.oc?"

"And that company," continued the Squire, disregarding Turtle's question, "is in existence yet, and is commanded by Captain Zekiel--Zekiel--Zekiel--I don't know what his t'other name is; and there ain't no time, feller-citizens, sin' it's bin a company, that it wouldn't er turned out in war if there'd bin a war, and they'd bin called on, feller-citizens."

Turtle Said "he know'd about the last war, and he never heer'd of that company of Hos Guards nowhere."

"Ah! but you see!" answered the Squire, "they weren't called on--and he might as well say that he was _lef_-tenant onc't in the great Pennsylvaney militia--not that he wanted to be captain of _this_ company--and he might a 'gone higher, but he wouldn't take it--his former wife, that's dead and gone, know'd that. And then, feller-citizens, there's a great deal of la'

'bout our militia, and if a captin don't know the la', everything will be illegal, and _every_ son of you will be called up and court-martialed, and fined, and 'prisoned, and your property taken and sold; and there ain't no 'peelin' it up, for military laws ain't like other laws, feller-citizens, they ain't--"

"That's a lie!" exclaimed Turtle.

"_Who_ says that's a lie?" vociferated the Squire, jerking his head around.

"_What's_ a lie?"

"It's _all_ a lie!" repeated Ike.

"Give me that 'ere statement," roared the Squire. It was handed up. "By authority in me vested, in that 'ere book, I fine you one dollar. It's a contempt, sir--a contempt upon both a justice of the peace, and a 'spector of 'lections. I oughter say _two_ dollars--it's a double contempt--I fine you one dollar, sir; and you can't vote, sir, here, sir, in this 'ere meetin', sir, while you're under contempt, sir, until you pay the dollar, sir--and I might sue you for special damages, sir, but _I_ don't care 'bout that, sir--it is my office that I am protectin';" and the Squire sat down in the midst of his unfinished speech, filled with wrath.

Squire Longbow was very sincere in his position which he had so confidently taken. He had been so long a magistrate, and "head man" of Puddleford, and he had been so closely identified with its public affairs, that he felt himself always in court, and every personal insult was construed by him into a contempt. Turtle humored the weakness of the old man, when his dignity was in jeopardy, and on this occasion he felt no alarm, for he knew that the fine would never be collected. Turtle owed the Squire more fines already than he was worth.

Squire Longbow was elected captain of the Puddleford company. When he spoke so eloquently of the liberty and property of the people being so likely to be jeopardized by an officer ignorant in the law, he carried his point, for there was no man in the settlement so mighty as the Squire in that respect, in the estimation of the public.

In the fall, the Squire exhibited the first Puddleford militia company ever a.s.sembled upon parade to the gaping wonder of its men, women, and children.

He formed his raw recruits into a line by the aid of a board fence, which was supposed to be nearly straight, in the outskirts of the place. The Squire was a very blood-thirsty looking captain, after he had mounted his regimentals. He had turned up a broad-brimmed felt hat, and tacked the sides by a flaming red c.o.c.kade made of flannel, and had fastened an ostrich feather, which he found in the wardrobe of his second wife, Aunt Graves, in its top, which drooped heavily over his back. His coat was his best homespun, the same that was woven by the hands of his first wife, and in which he afterwards courted Aunt Graves, and it was bedizened with stripes of cloth of every color. His sword was an old-fashioned affair, which he had loaned of Ike Turtle, and was an heirloom in the Turtle family, it having been used by his grandfather in the revolutionary war. His waistcoat was red, and his boot-legs came over his pantaloons, each one supporting a heavy cotton ta.s.sel, which swung to and fro as he walked.

The company was as complete a specimen of ragam.u.f.fins as were ever congregated together. There were three guns to the crowd, and the balance of the arms were made up of the most murderous implements within reach, such as axes, pitchforks, &c.

But the Squire did not forget his dignity for a single moment. He put on a martial air, and felt himself every inch a captain. While his company stood erect in a line against the board fence, he marched backwards and forwards, looking at it over his shoulder, with the greatest military pride, while three dogs, his own property, and who had come out to witness the parade, trotted after him. When the Squire wheeled to retrace his steps, the dogs wheeled; when the Squire faced about to take a broadside view of his company, the dogs sat down on their haunches, and took a view with him.

During the exercises, the Squire accidentally cut a low flourish with his sword, and upset one of his own curs, who went howling towards the fence, and lay down in the shade, perfectly satisfied with war, while the other two, taking warning, retired farther in the rear, where they thought they could see just as well. The Squire had not studied very deeply military works on tactics, and his orders were somewhat monotonous, and were mostly made up of two--"Shoul-_der_ arms!" and "Rest!" Walking a few paces, he would suddenly wheel and cry, like the cracking of a pistol, in a most furious tone--"Shoul-_der_ arms!" then taking a few strides, which seemed to soften his temper, he would turn softly, as if he repented his harshness, with--"Rest!" And the Puddleford company for an hour shouldered and unshouldered their arms, to the astonishment of the crowd of urchins that were looking on.

It had been announced for a week, that the field exercises would come off in the afternoon, at three o'clock. The ladies were invited to attend at that hour, to witness the display. Squire Longbow gave as a reason for this second eruption of patriotism, that the "Hos Guards down on the Susquehannas allers had field exercises in the arternoon,"--"that, if it hadn't-er been for field exercises, the Hos Guards wouldn't-er never been fit for war,"--and Aunt Sonora told Mrs. Swipes, and Mrs. Swipes told Mrs.

Beagle, and they all told somebody else, that the field exercises were going to be "jist sich as the Squire used to have down on the Susquehannas." Aunt Sonora, however, sent down her boy Jabez to inquire of Squire Longbow's wife, if there was a-goin' to be any shootin' there, for if there was, "she was the last critter that would go--she could tell 'em that."

At noon the Puddleford company adjourned for one hour, when the Squire thanked them, "one and all, for their grand military performance, which was a credit alike unto themselves and their country, and he hop'd they'd be on hand in the arter-_noon_, 'cordin' to law."

At three o'clock the troops a.s.sembled for field exercises, in a ten-acre lot, and they appeared to be very much recruited. Some eight or ten of the patriots, however, had evidently been indulging at the "Eagle," and they did not stand quite plumb. The captain found it very difficult to form them into a line. Beagle could not possibly shoulder arms without sagging against the column. Swipes stood much straighter than he did when sober in the forenoon. He was so anxious to disguise his condition, that he had planted himself in a most defiant att.i.tude, with one foot advanced, and had fixed his eyes upon the sky; he went through the exercises in a twitching, nervous way, as if Longbow was moving him like a puppet by a string. Turtle felt mischievously well, and the colonel stood as stoical as if he expected to lay down his life before the enemy in fifteen minutes.

The Squire's three dogs, who had been out during the forenoon, had returned to see the end of the parade. Thirty or forty women and children were also present, sitting upon stumps, and hanging upon fences in a very miscellaneous sort of confusion. Aunt Sonora and Mrs. Longbow had procured a couple of chairs, and the old lady seated herself, and took up her knitting. Mrs. Longbow did not mix very much with the crowd, because she could not forget that her husband was "captin of the day," as she said, and she and her husband she felt to be one.

The Squire formed the company into a line. "The fust thing to be did,"

exclaimed he, drawing his sword, and swinging it three times around his head, as a kind of three cheers, and scaring his dogs by this frightful flourish, repeated before their eyes, and who had not forgotten the accident of the morning--"the fust thing to be did, feller-sogers, is to turn a circle."

"To turn a _what_?" roared Turtle from the ranks.

"To turn a circle," repeated the captain, "as the Hos Guards used to do, down inter the Susquehannas."

"T-h-u-n-d-e-r!!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Ike.

"No talking in the ranks--'tis finable--and 'twon't be permitted. We're under martial law, and that's _very sum_'ry, Mr. Turtle, very _sum_'ry! And to turn a circle," continued the Squire, "is one-er the most complercated revolutions ever performed by the Hos Guards. I hereby appoint Mr. Beagle the centre pin. Mr. Turtle will head the column--Mr. Beagle will stand still, and the column will sweep round him, to the point from which they started. Heads up! Shoul-_der_ arms! Ev'ry man to his post!"

The captain drew his sword, and cried terribly, "For-_erd_, men!" Turtle ran--the man behind him ran--and all ran, helter-skelter, some whooping, some groaning, and in their sweep they took in a score of ragged boys, and hurled them upon Aunt Sonora and Mrs. Longbow, who keeled over backwards in their chairs, their petticoats fluttering, in their somerset, in the face of the whole company. The Squire, forgetting his own position, when he saw the position of his second wife, hastened to her rescue, set her up, and pointed with his sword to the road, and she and Aunt Sonora pushed desperately for the fence, their hair streaming behind them, bellowing "Murder!" while the company brought up in the shape of a pot-hook, having about half described the circle,--Beagle, the "centre-pin," crying to them to "come on!"

"H-ll!" involuntarily e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the Squire, as he looked upon the confusion.

"That's swearin'," said Ike from the ranks, "and is agin the statert."

The Squire explained. "He didn't swear as a justis', he swore as a captin', and captins allers swore on the field-er action--but he'd take that 'ere oath back.--What do you s'pose the Hos Guards would think of such a revolution as that 'ere,"--continued the Squire, looking at the huddle before him, "wouldn't _they_ swear? Do you call that a circle?--Every man to his post in a line!" and the company straggled back into a column.

Aunt Sonora sat upon the fence, panting with fright, and fanning her flushed face with her cotton handkerchief. She told Mr. Longbow that "she know'd that somebody'd be kill'd afore night--these sogers were so _ker_-less--everybody was so hurly-burly, they'd run anybody right down, and stomp on 'em; and if she hadn't got out-er the way jist as she did, she would have been a dead woman, she know'd."