CHAPTER IX. Hospitalities
His Excellency the Commander-in-Chief set forth to pay his visit toMadam Esmond in such a state and splendour as became the first personagein all his Majesty's colonies, plantations, and possessions of NorthAmerica. His guard of dragoons preceded him out of Williamsburg in themidst of an immense shouting and yelling of a loyal, and principallynegro, population. The General rode in his own coach. Captain Talmadge,his Excellency's Master of the Horse, attended him at the door of theponderous emblazoned vehicle, and riding by the side of the carriageduring the journey from Williamsburg to Madam Esmond's house. MajorDanvers, aide-de-camp, sate in the front of the carriage with the littlepostmaster from Philadelphia, Mr. Franklin, who, printer's boy as he hadbeen, was a wonderful shrewd person, as his Excellency and the gentlemenof his family were fain to acknowledge, having a quantity of the mostcurious information respecting the colony, and regarding England too,where Mr. Franklin had been more than once. "'Twas extraordinary howa person of such humble origin should have acquired such a varietyof learning and such a politeness of breeding too, Mr. Franklin!" hisExcellency was pleased to observe, touching his hat graciously to thepostmaster.
The postmaster bowed, said it had been his occasional good fortune tofall into the company of gentlemen like his Excellency, and that he hadtaken advantage of his opportunity to study their honours' manners, andadapt himself to them as far as he might. As for education, he could notboast much of that--his father being but in straitened circumstances,and the advantages small in his native country of New England: but hehad done to the utmost of his power, and gathered what he could--he knewnothing like what they had in England.
Mr. Braddock burst out laughing, and said, "As for education, there weregentlemen of the army, by George, who didn't know whether they shouldspell bull with two b's or one. He had heard the Duke of Marlboroughwas no special good penman. He had not the honour of serving under thatnoble commander--his Grace was before his time--but he thrashed theFrench soundly, although he was no scholar."
Mr. Franklin said he was aware of both those facts.
"Nor is my Duke a scholar," went on Mr. Braddock--"aha, Mr. Postmaster,you have heard that, too--I see by the wink in your eye."
Mr. Franklin instantly withdrew the obnoxious or satirical wink in hiseye, and looked in the General's jolly round face with a pair of orbs asinnocent as a baby's. "He's no scholar, but he is a match for any Frenchgeneral that ever swallowed the English for fricassee de crapaud.He saved the crown for the best of kings, his royal father, his MostGracious Majesty King George."
Off went Mr. Franklin's hat, and from his large buckled wig escaped agreat halo of powder.
"He is the soldier's best friend, and has been the uncompromising enemyof all beggarly red-shanked Scotch rebels and intriguing Romish Jesuitswho would take our liberty from us, and our religion, by George. HisRoyal Highness, my gracious master, is not a scholar neither, but he isone of the finest gentlemen in the world."
"I have seen his Royal Highness on horseback, at a review of the Guards,in Hyde Park," says Mr. Franklin. "The Duke is indeed a very finegentleman on horseback."
"You shall drink his health to-day, Postmaster. He is the best ofmasters, the best of friends, the best of sons to his royal old father;the best of gentlemen that ever wore an epaulet."
"Epaulets are quite out of my way, sir," says Mr. Franklin, laughing."You know I live in a Quaker City."
"Of course they are out of your way, my good friend. Every man to hisbusiness. You, and gentlemen of your class, to your books, and welcome.We don't forbid you; we encourage you. We, to fight the enemy and governthe country. Hey, gentlemen? Lord! what roads you have in this colony,and how this confounded coach plunges! Who have we here, with the twonegro boys in livery? He rides a good gelding."
"It is Mr. Washington," says the aide-de-camp.
"I would like him for a corporal of the Horse Grenadiers," said theGeneral. "He has a good figure on a horse. He knows the country too, Mr.Franklin."
"Yes, indeed."
"And is a monstrous genteel young man, considering the opportunities hehas had. I should have thought he had the polish of Europe, by George Ishould."
"He does his best," says Mr. Franklin, looking innocently at the stoutchief, the exemplar of English elegance, who sat swagging from one sideto the other of the carriage, his face as scarlet as his coat--swearingat every other word; ignorant on every point off parade, except themerits of a bottle and the looks of a woman; not of high birth, yetabsurdly proud of his no-ancestry; brave as a bulldog; savage, lustful,prodigal, generous; gentle in soft moods; easy of love and laughter;dull of wit; utterly unread; believing his country the first in theworld, and he as good a gentleman as any in it. "Yes, he is mighty wellfor a provincial, upon my word. He was beat at Fort What-d'ye-call-umlast year, down by the Thingamy river. What's the name on't, Talmadge?"
"The Lord knows, sir," says Talmadge; "and I dare say the Postmaster,too, who is laughing at us both."
"Oh, Captain!"
"Was caught in a regular trap. He had only militia and Indians with him.Good day, Mr. Washington. A pretty nag, sir. That was your first affair,last year?"
"That at Fort Necessity? Yes, sir," said the gentleman, gravelysaluting, as he rode up, followed by a couple of natty negro grooms,in smart livery-coats and velvet hunting-caps. "I began ill, sir, neverhaving been in action until that unlucky day."
"You were all raw levies, my good fellow. You should have seen ourmilitia run from the Scotch, and be cursed to them. You should have hadsome troops with you."
"Your Excellency knows 'tis my passionate desire to see and serve withthem," said Mr. Washington.
"By George, we shall try and gratify you, sir," said the General, withone of his usual huge oaths; and on the heavy carriage rolled towardsCastlewood; Mr. Washington asking leave to gallop on ahead, in order toannounce his Excellency's speedy arrival to the lady there.
The progress of the Commander-in-Chief was so slow, that severalhumbler persons who were invited to meet his Excellency came up withhis carriage, and, not liking to pass the great man on the road, formedquite a procession in the dusty wake of his chariot-wheels. Firstcame Mr. Dinwiddie, the Lieutenant-Governor of his Majesty's province,attended by his negro servants, and in company of Parson Broadbent, thejolly Williamsburg chaplain. These were presently joined by little Mr.Dempster, the young gentlemen's schoolmaster, in his great Ramillieswig, which he kept for occasions of state. Anon appeared Mr. Laws, thejudge of the court, with Madam Laws on a pillion behind him, and theirnegro man carrying a box containing her ladyship's cap, and bestridinga mule. The procession looked so ludicrous, that Major Danvers and Mr.Franklin espying it, laughed outright, though not so loud as to disturbhis Excellency, who was asleep by this time, bade the whole of thisqueer rearguard move on, and leave the Commander-in-Chief and hisescort of dragoons to follow at their leisure. There was room for all atCastlewood when they came. There was meat, drink, and the best tobaccofor his Majesty's soldiers; and laughing and jollity for the negroes;and a plenteous welcome for their masters.
The honest General required to be helped to most dishes at the table,and more than once, and was for ever holding out his glass for drink;Nathan's sangaree he pronounced to be excellent, and had drunk largelyof it on arriving before dinner. There was cider, ale, brandy, andplenty of good Bordeaux wine, some which Colonel Esmond himself hadbrought home with him to the colony, and which was fit for ponteeficiscoenis, said little Mr. Dempster, with a wink to Mr. Broadbent, theclergyman of the adjoining parish. Mr. Broadbent returned the wink andnod, and drank the wine without caring about the Latin, as why shouldhe, never having hitherto troubled himself about the language? Mr.Broadbent was a gambling, guzzling, cock-fighting divine, who had passedmuch time in the Fleet Prison, at Newmarket, at Hockley-in-the-Hole; andhaving gone of all sorts of errands for his friend, Lord Cingbars,Lord Ringwood's son (my Lady Cingbars's waiting-woman being Mr. B.'smother--I dare say the modern
reader had best not be too particularregarding Mr. Broadbent's father's pedigree), had been of late sent outto a church-living in Virginia. He and young George had fought manya match of cocks together, taken many a roe in company, hauled incountless quantities of shad and salmon, slain wild geese and wildswans, pigeons and plovers, and destroyed myriads of canvas-backedducks. It was said by the envious that Broadbent was the midnightpoacher on whom Mr. Washington set his dogs, and whom he caned by theriver-side at Mount Vernon. The fellow got away from his captor's grip,and scrambled to his boat in the dark; but Broadbent was laid up fortwo Sundays afterwards, and when he came abroad again had the evidentremains of a black eye and a new collar to his coat. All the gamesat the cards had George Esmond and Parson Broadbent played together,besides hunting all the birds in the air, the beasts in the forest, andthe fish of the sea. Indeed, when the boys rode together to get theirreading with Mr. Dempster, I suspect that Harry stayed behind andtook lessons from the other professor of European learning andaccomplishments,--George going his own way, reading his own books, and,of course, telling no tales of his younger brother.
All the birds of the Virginia air, and all the fish of the sea in seasonwere here laid on Madam Esmond's board to feed his Excellency and therest of the English and American gentlemen. The gumbo was declared to beperfection (young Mr. George's black servant was named after thisdish, being discovered behind the door with his head in a bowl of thisdelicious hotch-potch, by the late Colonel, and grimly christened on thespot), the shad were rich and fresh, the stewed terrapins were worthy ofLondon aldermen (before George, he would like the Duke himself to tastethem, his Excellency deigned to say), and indeed, stewed terrapins areworthy of any duke or even emperor. The negro-women have a genius forcookery, and in Castlewood kitchens there were adepts in the art broughtup under the keen eye of the late and the present Madam Esmond. Certainof the dishes, especially the sweets and flan, Madam Esmond preparedherself with great neatness and dexterity; carving several of theprincipal pieces, as the kindly cumbrous fashion of the day was, puttingup the laced lappets of her sleeves, and showing the prettiest roundarms and small hands and wrists as she performed this ancient rite ofa hospitality not so languid as ours. The old law of the table was thatthe mistress was to press her guests with a decent eagerness, to watchand see whom she could encourage to further enjoyment, to know culinaryanatomic secrets, and execute carving operations upon fowls, fish, game,joints of meat, and so forth; to cheer her guests to fresh efforts, towhisper her neighbour, Mr. Braddock "I have kept for your Excellencythe jowl of this salmon.--I will take no denial! Mr. Franklin, you drinkonly water, sir, though our cellar has wholesome wine which gives noheadaches.--Mr. Justice, you love woodcock pie?"
"Because I know who makes the pastry," says Mr. Laws, the judge, witha profound bow. "I wish, madam, we had such a happy knack of pastry athome as you have at Castlewood. I often say to my wife, 'My dear, I wishyou had Madam Esmond's hand.'"
"It is a very pretty hand; I am sure others would like it too," says Mr.Postmaster of Boston, at which remark Mr. Esmond looks but half-pleasedat the little gentleman.
"Such a hand for a light pie-crust," continues the Judge, "andmy service to you, madam." And he thinks the widow cannot but bepropitiated by this compliment. She says simply that she had lessonswhen she was at home in England for her education, and that there werecertain dishes which her mother taught her to make, and which her fatherand sons both liked. She was very glad if they pleased her company. Moresuch remarks follow: more dishes; ten times as much meat as isneedful for the company. Mr. Washington does not embark in the generalconversation much, but he and Mr. Talmadge, and Major Danvers, andthe Postmaster, are deep in talk about roads, rivers, conveyances,sumpter-horses and artillery train; and the provincial militia Colonelhas bits of bread laid at intervals on the table before him, andstations marked out, on which he has his finger, and regarding which heis talking to his brother aides-de-camp, till a negro servant, changingthe courses, brushes off the Potomac with a napkin, and sweeps up theOhio in a spoon.
At the end of dinner, Mr. Broadbent leaves his place and walks up behindthe Lieutenant-Governor's chair, where he says grace, returning to hisseat and resuming his knife and fork when this work of devotion is over.And now the sweets and puddings are come, of which I can give you alist, if you like; but what young lady cares for the puddings of to-day,much more for those which were eaten a hundred years ago, and whichMadam Esmond had prepared for her guests with so much neatness andskill? Then, the table being cleared, Nathan, her chief manager, lays aglass to every person, and fills his mistress's. Bowing to the company,she says she drinks but one toast, but knows how heartily all thegentlemen present will join her. Then she calls, "His Majesty," bowingto Mr. Braddock, who with his aides-de-camp and the colonial gentlemenall loyally repeat the name of their beloved and gracious Sovereign. Andhereupon, having drunk her glass of wine and saluted all the company,the widow retires between a row of negro servants, performing one of hervery handsomest curtsies at the door.
The kind Mistress of Castlewood bore her part in the entertainment withadmirable spirit, and looked so gay and handsome, and spoke with suchcheerfulness and courage to all her company, that the few ladies whowere present at the dinner could not but congratulate Madam Esmond uponthe elegance of the feast, and especially upon her manner of presidingat it. But they were scarcely got to her drawing-room when herartificial courage failed her, and she burst into tears on the sofa byMrs. Laws' side, just in the midst of a compliment from that lady. "Ah,madam!" she said, "it may be an honour, as you say, to have theKing's representative in my house, and our family has received greaterpersonages than Mr. Braddock. But he comes to take one of my sons awayfrom me. Who knows whether my boy will return, or how? I dreamed of himlast night as wounded, and quite white, with blood streaming from hisside. I would not be so ill-mannered as to let my grief be visiblebefore the gentlemen; but, my good Mrs. Justice, who has parted withchildren, and who has a mother's heart of her own, would like me nonethe better, if mine were very easy this evening."
The ladies administered such consolations as seemed proper or palatableto their hostess, who tried not to give way further to her melancholy,and remembered that she had other duties to perform, before yielding toher own sad mood. "It will be time enough, madam, to be sorry when theyare gone," she said to the Justice's wife, her good neighbour. "My boymust not see me following him with a wistful face, and have our partingmade more dismal by my weakness. It is good that gentlemen of his rankand station should show themselves where their country calls them.That has always been the way of the Esmonds, and the same Power whichgraciously preserved my dear father through twenty great battles in theQueen's time, I trust and pray, will watch over my son now his turnis come to do his duty." And, now, instead of lamenting her fate, orfurther alluding to it, I dare say the resolute lady sate down withher female friends to a pool of cards and a dish of coffee, whilst thegentlemen remained in the neighbouring parlour, still calling theirtoasts and drinking their wine. When one lady objected that these latterwere sitting rather long, Madam Esmond said: "It would improve and amusethe boys to be with the English gentlemen. Such society was very rarelyto be had in their distant province, and though their conversationsometimes was free, she was sure that gentleman and men of fashion wouldhave regard to the youth of her sons, and say nothing before them whichyoung people should not hear."
It was evident that the English gentlemen relished the good cheerprovided for them. Whilst the ladies were yet at their cards, Nathancame in and whispered Mrs. Mountain, who at first cried out--"No! shewould give no more--the common Bordeaux they might have, and welcome,if they still wanted more--but she would not give any more of theColonel's." It appeared that the dozen bottles of particular claret hadbeen already drunk up by the gentlemen, "besides ale, cider, Burgundy,Lisbon, and Madeira," says Mrs. Mountain, enumerating the supplies.
But Madam Esmond was for having no stint in the hospitality of thenight. Mrs.
Mountain was fain to bustle away with her keys to the sacredvault where the Colonel's particular Bordeaux lay, surviving its master,who, too, had long passed underground. As they went on their journey,Mrs. Mountain asked whether any of the gentlemen had had too much?Nathan thought Mister Broadbent was tipsy--he always tipsy; be thenthought the General gentleman was tipsy; and he thought Master Georgewas a lilly drunk.
"Master George!" cries Mrs. Mountain: "why, he will sit for days withouttouching a drop."
Nevertheless, Nathan persisted in his notion that Master George wasa lilly drunk. He was always filling his glass, he had talked, he hadsung, he had cut jokes, especially against Mr. Washington, which madeMr. Washington quite red and angry, Nathan said. "Well, well!" Mrs.Mountain cried eagerly; "it was right a gentleman should make himselfmerry in good company, and pass the bottle along with his friends."And she trotted to the particular Bordeaux cellar with only the morealacrity.
The tone of freedom and almost impertinence which young George Esmondhad adopted of late days towards Mr. Washington had very deeply vexedand annoyed that gentleman. There was scarce half a dozen years'difference of age between him and the Castlewood twins;--but Mr.Washington had always been remarked for a discretion and sobriety muchbeyond his time of life, whilst the boys of Castlewood seemed youngerthan theirs. They had always been till now under their mother's anxioustutelage, and had looked up to their neighbour of Mount Vernon as theirguide, director, friend--as, indeed, almost everybody seemed to do whocame in contact with the simple and upright young man. Himself of themost scrupulous gravity and good breeding, in his communication withother folks he appeared to exact, or, at any rate, to occasion, the samebehaviour. His nature was above levity and jokes: they seemed out ofplace when addressed to him. He was slow of comprehending them: and theyslunk as it were abashed out of his society. "He always seemed great tome," says Harry Warrington, in one of his letters many years after thedate of which we are writing; "and I never thought of him otherwise thanof a hero. When he came over to Castlewood and taught us boys surveying,to see him riding to hounds was as if he was charging an army. If hefired a shot, I thought the bird must come down, and if be flung a net,the largest fish in the river were sure to be in it. His words werealways few, but they were always wise; they were not idle, as our wordsare, they were grave, sober, and strong, and ready on occasion to dotheir duty. In spite of his antipathy to him, my brother respected andadmired the General as much as I did--that is to say, more than anymortal man."
Mr. Washington was the first to leave the jovial party which were doingso much honour to Madam Esmond's hospitality. Young George Esmond, whohad taken his mother's place when she left it, had been free with theglass and with the tongue. He had said a score of things to his guestwhich wounded and chafed the latter, and to which Mr. Washington couldgive no reply. Angry beyond all endurance, he left the table at length,and walked away through the open windows into the broad verandah orporch which belonged to Castlewood as to all Virginian houses.
Here Madam Esmond caught sight of her friend's tall frame as it strodeup and down before the windows; and, the evening being warm, or her gameover, she gave up her cards to one of the other ladies, and joined hergood neighbour out of doors. He tried to compose his countenance as wellas he could: it was impossible that he should explain to his hostess whyand with whom he was angry.
"The gentlemen are long over their wine," she said; "gentlemen of thearmy are always fond of it."
"If drinking makes good soldiers, some yonder are distinguishingthemselves greatly, madam," said Mr. Washington.
"And I dare say the General is at the head of his troops?"
"No doubt, no doubt," answered the Colonel, who always received thislady's remarks, playful or serious, with a peculiar softness andkindness. "But the General is the General, and it is not for me to makeremarks on his Excellency's doings at table or elsewhere. I think verylikely that military gentlemen born and bred at home are different fromus of the colonies. We have such a hot sun, that we need not wine tofire our blood as they do. And drinking toasts seems a point of honourwith them. Talmadge hiccupped to me--I should say, whispered to me justnow, that an officer could no more refuse a toast than a challenge, andhe said that it was after the greatest difficulty and dislike at firstthat he learned to drink. He has certainly overcome his difficulty withuncommon resolution."
"What, I wonder, can you talk of for so many hours?" asked the lady.
"I don't think I can tell you all we talk of, madam, and I must nottell tales out of school. We talked about the war, and of the force Mr.Contrecoeur has, and how we are to get at him. The General is for makingthe campaign in his coach, and makes light of it and the enemy. That weshall beat them, if we meet them, I trust there is no doubt."
"How can there be?" says the lady, whose father had served underMarlborough.
"Mr. Franklin, though he is only from New England," continued thegentleman, "spoke great good sense, and would have spoken more if theEnglish gentlemen would let him; but they reply invariably that we areonly raw provincials, and don't know what disciplined British troops cando. Had they not best hasten forwards and make turnpike roads andhave comfortable inns ready for his Excellency at the end of the day'smarch?--'There's some sort of inns, I suppose,' says Mr. Danvers, 'notso comfortable as we have in England: we can't expect that.'--'No,you can't expect that,' says Mr. Franklin, who seems a very shrewdand facetious person. He drinks his water, and seems to laugh at theEnglishmen, though I doubt whether it is fair for a water-drinker to sitby and spy out the weaknesses of gentlemen over their wine."
"And my boys? I hope they are prudent?" said the widow, laying her handon her guest's arm. "Harry promised me, and when he gives his word, Ican trust him for anything. George is always moderate. Why do you lookso grave?"
"Indeed, to be frank with you, I do not know what has come over Georgein these last days," says Mr. Washington. "He has some grievance againstme which I do not understand, and of which I don't care to ask thereason. He spoke to me before the gentlemen in a way which scarcelybecame him. We are going the campaign together, and 'tis a pity we beginsuch ill friends."
"He has been ill. He is always wild and wayward, and hard to understand.But he has the most affectionate heart in the world. You will bear withhim, you will protect him--promise me you will."
"Dear lady, I will do so with my life," Mr. Washington said with greatfervour. "You know I would lay it down cheerfully for you or any youlove."
"And my father's blessing and mine go with you, dear friend!" cried thewidow, full of thanks and affection.
As they pursued their conversation, they had quitted the porch underwhich they had first began to talk, and where they could hear thelaughter and toasts of the gentlemen over their wine, and were pacing awalk on the rough lawn before the house. Young George Warrington, fromhis place at the head of the table in the dining-room, could see thepair as they passed to and fro, and had listened for some time past,and replied in a very distracted manner to the remarks of the gentlemenround about him, who were too much engaged with their own talk andjokes, and drinking, to pay much attention to their young host'sbehaviour. Mr. Braddock loved a song after dinner, and Mr. Danvers, hisaide-de-camp, who had a fine tenor voice, was delighting his Generalwith the latest ditty from Marybone Gardens, when George Warrington,jumping up, ran towards the window, and then returned and pulled hisbrother Harry by the sleeve, who sate with his back towards the window.
"What is it?" says Harry, who, for his part, was charmed, too, with thesong and chorus.
"Come," cried George, with a stamp of his foot, and the younger followedobediently.
"What is it?" continued George, with a bitter oath. "Don't you see whatit is? They were billing and cooing this morning; they are billing andcooing now before going to roost. Had we not better both go into thegarden, and pay our duty to our mamma and papa?" and he pointed to Mr.Washington, who was taking the widow's hand very tenderly in his.