SMALL | MEDIUM
And though amidst the calm of thought entire,
Some high and haughty features might betray
A soul impetuous once -- 'twas earthly fire
That fled composure's intellectual ray,
As Etna's fires grow dim before the rising day.
Gertrude of Wyoming.
litary traveller was seen pursuing his way through
one of the numerous little valleys of West-Chester.
The easterly wind, with its chilling dampness,
and increasing violence, gave unerring notice of
the approach of a storm, which, as usual, might
be expected to continue for several days: and the
experienced eye of the traveller was turned, in
vain, through the darkness of the evening, in quest
of some convenient shelter, in which, for the term
of his confinement by the rain, that already be-
gan to mix with the atmosphere in a thick mist,
he might obtain such accommodations as his age
and purposes required. Nothing, however, of-
fered, but the small and inconvenient tenements
of the lower order of inhabitants, with whom, in
that immediate neighbourhood, he did not think it
either safe or politic to trust himself.
The county of West-Chester, after the British
had obtained possession of the island of New-
York, became common ground, in which both
parties continued to act for the remainder of the
war of the revolution. A large proportion of its
inhabitants, either restrained by their attachments,
or influenced by their fears, affected a neutrality
they did not always feel. The lower towns were,
of course, more particularly under the dominion
of the crown, while the upper, finding a security
from the vicinity of the continental troops, were bold
in asserting their revolutionary opinions, and their
right to govern themselves. Great numbers, how-
ever, wore masks, which even to this day have not
been thrown aside; and many an individual has
gone down to the tomb, stigmatized as a foe to the
rights of his countrymen, while, in secret, he has
been the useful agent of the leaders of the revolu-
tion; and, on the other hand, could the hidden re-
positories of divers flaming patriots have been
opened to the light of day, royal protections would
have been discovered, concealed under piles of
British gold.
At the sound of the tread of the noble horse
ridden by the traveller, the mistress of the farm
house he was passing at the time, might be seen
cautiously opening the door of the building to ex-
amine the stranger; and, perhaps, with an averted
face, communicating the result of her observations
to her husband, who, in the rear of the building,
was prepared to seek, if necessary, his ordinary
place of concealment in the adjacent woods. The
valley was situated about mid-way in the length of
the county, and was sufficiently near to either ar-
my to make the restitution of stolen goods no un-
common occurrence in that vicinity. It is true, the
same articles were not always regained, but a sum-
mary substitute was generally resorted to, in the
The passage of a stranger, with an appearance
of somewhat doubtful character, and mounted on
an animal, which, although unfurnished with any
of the ordinary trappings of war, partook largely
of the bold and upright carriage that distinguished
his rider, gave rise to many surmises among the
gazing inmates of the different habitations; and, in
some instances, where conscience was more than
ordinarily awake, to no little alarm.
Tired with the exercise of a day of unusual fa-
tigue, and anxious to obtain a speedy shelter from
the increasing violence of the storm, that now be-
gan to change its character to large drops of driv-
ing rain, the traveller determined, as a matter of
necessity, to make an application for admission to
the next dwelling that offered. An opportunity
was not long wanting; and, riding through a pair of
neglected bars, he knocked loudly at the outer door
of a building, of very humble exterior, without
quitting his saddle. A female of middle age,
with an outward bearing but little more preposses-
sing than her dwelling, appeared to answer to his
summons. The startled woman half closed her
door again, in affright, as she saw, by the glare of a
large wood fire, a mounted man so unexpectedly
near its threshold; and an expression of terror,
mingled with her natural curiosity, as she required
his pleasure.
Although the door was too nearly closed to ad-
mit of a minute scrutiny of the accommodations
within, sufficient had been seen to cause the horse-
man to endeavour, once more, to penetrate the
gloom, with longing eyes, in search of a more pro-
mising roof, before, with an ill-concealed reluc-
tance, he stated his necessities and wishes. His
"I can't say I like to give lodgings to a stranger
in these ticklish times; I'm nothing but a forlorn
lone body; or, what's the same thing, there's no-
body but the old gentleman at home; but a half
mile further up the road, is a house, where you
can get entertainment, and that all for nothing --
I am sure 'twill be much convenienter to them,
and more agreeabler to me; because, as I said be-
fore, Harvey is away -- I wish he'd take advice, and
leave off wandering; he's well to do in the world by
this time; and he ought to leave off his unsteady
courses, and settle in life. -- But Harvey Birch will
have his own way, and die a vagabond after all."
The horseman did not wait to hear more than
the advice to pursue his course up the road;
but had slowly turned his horse towards the bars,
and was gathering the folds of an ample cloak
around him, preparatory to again facing the storm,
when something in the speech of the female sud-
denly arrested the movement.
"Is this, then, the dwelling of Harvey Birch?" he
inquired, in an apparently involuntary manner --
checking himself, as he was about to utter more.
"Why, one can hardly say it is his dwelling,"
replied the other, drawing a breath somewhat be-
tween a sigh and a groan; "he is never in it, or
so seldom, that I hardly remember his face, when
he does think it worth his while to show it to his
poor old father and -- me. But it matters little
to me, I'm sure, if he ever comes back again, or
not -- turn in the first gate on your left; -- no, I care
but little, for my part, whether Harvey ever shows
his face again or not -- no, not I;" -- and she closed
the door abruptly on the horseman, who gladly
Sufficient light yet remained to enable the tra-
veller to distinguish the improvements which had
been made in the cultivation, and general appea-
rance of the grounds around the building to which
he was now approaching. The house was of stone,
long, low, and with a small wing at either extremity.
A piazza, extending along the front, with neatly
turned pillars, together with the good order and
preservation of its fences and out buildings, gave
it an air altogether superior to the common farm
houses of the country. After leading his horse be-
hind an angle of the wall, where he was in some
degree protected from the wind and rain, the tra-
veller threw his valisse over his arm, and knocked
loudly at the entrance of the building for admis-
sion. An aged black soon appeared; and, without
seeming to think it necessary, under the circum-
stances, to consult his superiors -- first taking one
prying look at the applicant, by the light of the
candle in his hand -- he acceded to the request for
accommodations. The traveller was shown into
an extremely neat parlour, where a fire had been
lighted, to cheer the dulness of an easterly storm,
and an October evening. After giving the valisse
into the keeping of his civil attendant, and politely
repeating his request to the old gentleman who
rose to receive him, and paying his compliments to
the three ladies who were seated at their needles,
the stranger commenced laying aside some of the
outer garments which he had worn in his ride.
On taking an extra handkerchief from his neck,
and removing a cloak of blue cloth, with a surtout
of the same material, he exhibited, to the scrutiny
of the party within, a tall and extremely graceful
person, of apparently fifty years of age; his coun-
The host was by several years the senior of the
traveller, and by his manner, dress, and every thing
around him, showed he had seen much of life and
the best society. The ladies were -- a maiden of
forty, and two younger ones, who did not seem to
have reached half those years. The bloom of the
elder of these ladies had vanished, but her eyes,
and fine hair, gave an extremely agreeable expres-
sion to her countenance; and there was a softness
and affability in her deportment, that added a
charm many more juvenile faces do not possess.
The sisters -- for such the resemblance between the
younger maidens denoted them to be -- were in all
the pride of youth; and the roses, so eminently the
property of the West-Chester fair, glowed with
their richest colours on their cheeks, and lighted
their deep blue eyes with that lustre which gives
so much pleasure to the beholder, and indicates
so much innocence and happiness in themselves.
There was much of that feminine delicacy in the
appearance of the three, which, in a great degree,
distinguishes the sex in this country; and, like the
After handing a glass of excellent Madeira to his
guest, Mr. Wharton resumed his seat by the fire,
with another in his own hand. For a moment he
paused, as if debating with his politeness, but, at
length, threw an inquiring glance on the stran-
ger, as he inquired, with a formal bow --
"To who's health am I to have the honor of
drinking?"
The traveller had also seated himself, and sat,
unconsciously gazing on the fire, when Mr. Whar-
ton spoke; turning his eyes slowly on his host, with
a look of close observation, he replied, bowing in
his turn, while a faint tinge gathered on his pale
features --
"Mr. Harper."
"Mr. Harper," resumed the other, with the for-
mal precision of the day, "I have the honor to
drink your health, and hope you will sustain no inju-
ry from the rain to which you have been exposed."
Mr. Harper bowed in silence to the compliment,
and soon resumed the meditations from which he
appeared to have been interrupted.
The young ladies had again taken their seats be-
side the work-stand, while their aunt, Miss Jean-
ette Peyton, had withdrawn, to superintend the
preparations necessary to appease the hunger of
their unexpected visitor. A short silence prevail-
ed, during which Mr. Harper was apparently en-
joying the change in his situation, when Mr. Whar-
ton again broke it, by inquiring, in the same polite,
but formal manner, whether smoke was disagree-
able to his companion; to which he received as po-
lite a negative, and immediately resumed the pipe
he had laid aside at the entrance of the traveller.
There was an evident desire on the part of the
host to enter into conversation, but either from an
"I find it very difficult," said Mr. Wharton,
cautiously avoiding, at first, such subjects as he
wished to introduce, "to procure that quality of
tobacco for my evenings' amusement, to which I
have been accustomed."
"I should think the shops in New-York might
furnish the best in the country," rejoined the other,
with his usual gravity.
"Why -- yes," returned the host, in rather a
hesitating manner, lifting his eyes to the face of
Harper, and lowering them quickly, under his
steady look, "there must be plenty in town, but
the war has made any communications with the
city, however innocent in themselves, too dan-
gerous to be risked for so trifling an article as to-
bacco."
The box from which Mr. Wharton had just taken
a supply for his pipe, was lying open, within a
few inches of the elbow of Harper, who took a
small quantity of the article, and applied it to his
tongue, in a manner perfectly natural, but one
that filled his companion with instant alarm. With-
out, however, observing that the quality was of
the most approved kind, the traveller relieved his
host by relapsing again into his meditations. Mr.
Wharton now felt unwilling to lose the advan-
tage he had gained, and, making an effort of more
than usual vigor, he continued --
"I wish, from the bottom of my heart, this un-
natural struggle was over, that we might again
meet our friends and relatives in peace and love."
"It is much to be desired," said Harper, em-
phatically, again raising his eyes to the counte-
nance of his host.
"I hear of no movements of consequence since
the arrival of our new allies," said Mr. Wharton,
shaking the ashes from his pipe, and turning his
back to the other, under the pretence of receiv-
ing a coal from his youngest daughter.
"None have reached the public yet, I believe,"
replied the traveller, crossing his leg with steady
composure.
"Is it thought any important steps are about to
be taken?" continued Mr. Wharton, still occupi-
ed with his daughter, yet unconsciously suspend-
ing his employment, in expectation of a reply.
"Is it intimated any are in agitation?" inquir-
ed the other, evasively, and, in a slight degree,
adopting the affected indifference of Mr. Whar-
ton's manner.
"Oh! nothing in particular," said the host,
hastily -- "but it is natural to expect something,
you know, sir, from so powerful a force as the
one under Rochambeau."
Harper made an assenting inclination with his
head, but no other reply to this remark; while
Mr. Wharton resumed the subject, by saying --
"They appear more active in the South -- Gates
and Cornwallis seem willing to bring the war to
an issue there."
The brow of Harper contracted; and a deep-
er shade of melancholy crossed his features --
his eye kindled with a transient beam of fire,
that spoke a latent source of deep feeling. The
admiring gaze of the younger of the sisters had
barely time to read its expression, before it pas-
sed away, leaving in its room the acquired com-
posure which marked the countenance of the stran-
ger, and that impressive dignity which so conspi-
cuously denotes the empire of reason.
The elder sister made one or two movements
in her chair, before she ventured to say, in a
tone, which partook in no small measure, of tri-
umph --
"General Gates has been less fortunate with
the Earl, than with General Burgoyne."
"But General Gates is an Englishman, Sarah,"
cried the younger lady, with quickness; and then
coloring to the eyes at her own boldness, she em-
ployed herself in tumbling over the contents of
her work-basket, silently hoping her remark would
be unnoticed.
The traveller had turned his face from one sister
to the other, as they had spoken in succession,
and an almost imperceptible movement of the
muscles of his mouth betrayed a new emotion, as
he inquired of the younger sister, with much
courtesy of manner --
"May I venture to ask, what inference you
draw from that fact?"
Frances blushed yet deeper at this direct appeal
to her opinions, upon a subject on which she had
incautiously spoken in the presence of a stranger;
but, finding an answer necessary, after some little
hesitation, and with a good deal of stammering in
her manner, replied --
"Only -- only -- sir -- my sister and myself some-
times differ in our opinions of the prowess of the
British." A smile of much meaning played on a
face of naturally infantile innocency of expression,
as she concluded, in a voice, that shared in the co-
vert humour of the speaker.
"On what particular points of prowess do you
differ?" continued Harper, meeting her look of
animation with an open smile of almost paternal
softness.
"Why, Sarah thinks the British are never beat-
en; but I do not put so much faith in their invin-
cibility." --
The traveller listened to her with that pleased
indulgence, with which virtuous age loves to con-
template the ardour of youthful innocence; but
making no reply, he turned to the fire, and con-
tinued for some time gazing on its embers in si-
lence.
Mr. Wharton had in vain endeavoured to
pierce the disguise of his guest's political feelings;
but, while there was nothing forbidding in his
countenance, there was nothing communicative --
it was strikingly reserved; and the master of the
house rose, in profound ignorance of what, in
those days, was the most material point in the
character of his guest -- to lead the way into an-
other room to the supper table. Mr. Harper offer-
ed his hand to Sarah Wharton, and they entered
the room together; while Frances followed, great-
ly at a loss to know whether she had not wounded
the feelings of her father's inmate.
The storm began to rage with great violence
without; and the dashing rain on the sides of the
building, awakened that silent sense of enjoy-
ment, which is excited by such sounds in a room
of quiet comfort and warmth, when a loud sum-
mons at the outer door again called the faithful
black to the portal. In a minute the servant re-
turned, and informed his master that another tra-
veller, overtaken by the storm, desired to be ad-
mitted to the house, for a shelter through the night.
At the first sounds of the impatient summons of
this new applicant, Mr. Wharton had risen from
his seat in evident uneasiness, and with eyes glanc-
ing, with alternate quickness, from his guest to
the door of the room, seemed to be expecting
something to proceed from this second interrup-
tion, which was connected with the stranger who
had occasioned the first. He scarcely had time
to bid the black, with a faint voice, to show this
Some of the removed dishes were replaced by
the orders of Miss Peyton, and the weather-beaten
intruder invited to partake of the remains of the
repast from which the party had just risen. Throw-
ing aside a rough great coat, he very composedly
took the offered chair, and gravely proceeded to
allay the cravings of an appetite, which appeared
by no means delicate. But at every mouthful
he would turn an unquiet eye on Harpur, who
studied his appearance with a closeness of inves-
tigation, that was very embarrassing to its sub-
ject. At length, pouring out a glass of wine, the
new comer nodded significantly to his examiner,
previously to swallowing the liquor, and said, with
something of bitterness in his manner --
"I drink to our better acquaintance, sir, -- I be-
lieve, this is the first time we have met." -- The
quality of the wine seemed greatly to his fancy,
for, on replacing the glass upon the table, he gave
his lips a smack, that resounded through the room;
and, taking up the bottle, held it between himself
and the light for a moment, in silent contempla-
tion of its clear and brilliant color.
"I think, we have never met before, sir," re-
plied Harper, with a slight smile on his features,
as he observed the movements of the other; but
appearing satisfied with his scrutiny, he turned to
"You doubtless find your present abode solita-
ry, after being accustomed to the gaieties of the
city."
"Oh! excessively so," said Sarah hastily, "I
do wish with my father, that this cruel war was at
an end, that we might return to our friends once
more."
"And you, Miss Frances, do you long as ardent-
ly for peace as your sister?"
"On many accounts, I certainly do," returned
the maid, venturing to steal a timid glance at her
interrogator; and, meeting the same benevolent
expression of feeling as before, she continued, as
her own face lighted into one of its animated and
lovely smiles of intelligence, "but, not at the ex-
pence of the rights of my countrymen."
"Rights," repeated her sister, impatiently;
"whose rights can be stronger than those of a
sovereign; and what duty is clearer, than to obey
those who have a natural right to command?" --
"None, certainly," said Frances, laughing with
great pleasantry; and taking the hand of her sister
affectionately within both of her own, she added,
with a smile directed towards Harper --
"I gave you to understand, that my sister and
myself differed in our political opinions -- but we
have an impartial umpire in my father, who loves
his own countrymen, and loves the British, so
sides with neither."
"Yes," said Mr. Wharton, in a little alarm,
eyeing first one guest, and then the other; "I
have near friends in both armies; and I dread a
victory by either, as a source of misfortune to my-
self."
"I take it, you have little reason to apprehend
much from the Yankees in that way," cried the
"His majesty may have more experienced troops
than the continentals," answered the host, fear-
fully, "but the Americans have met with distin-
guished success."
Harper disregarded the observations of both;
and, rising, desired to be shown to his place of
rest. A small boy was directed to guide him to his
room; and, wishing a courteous good-night to the
whole party, the traveller withdrew. The knife
and fork fell from the hands of the unwelcome
intruder, as the door closed on the retreating fi-
gure of Harper; -- he rose slowly from his seat; --
listening attentively, he approached the door of
the room -- opened it -- seemed to attend to the
retreating footsteps of the other -- and, amidst the
panic and astonishment of his companions, closed
it again. In an instant, the red wig, which con-
cealed his black locks -- the large patch, which
hid half his face from observation -- the stoop,
which had made him appear fifty years of age,
disappeared.
"My father! -- my dear father" -- cried the now
handsome young man;" and you, my dearest sis-
ters and aunt -- have I at last met you again."
"Heaven bless you -- my Henry -- my son," ex-
claimed the astonished, but delighted, parent;
while both his sisters sunk on his shoulders, dis-
solved in tears.
The faithful old black, who had been reared
from infancy in the house of his present master,
and who, as if in mockery of his degraded state,
had been complimented with the name of Cæsar,
was the only other witness of this unexpected dis-
covery of the son of Mr. Wharton. After receiv-
ing the extended hand of his young master, and
"But, who is this Mr. Harper? -- is he likely to
betray me?"
"No -- no -- no -- Massa Harry," cried the Afri-
can, shaking his head confidently, "I been to see --
Massa Harper on his knees -- pray to God -- no gen-
tleman who pray to God, tell of good son, come
to see old father -- Skinner do that -- no christian."
This poor opinion of the Skinners was not con-
fined to Mr. -- Cæsar Thompson, as he called him-
self -- but Cæsar Wharton, as he was styled, by the
little world to which he was known. The conve-
nience, and perhaps the necessities, of the leaders
of the American arms, in the neighbourhood of
New-York, had induced them to employ certain
subordinate agents, of extremely irregular habits,
in executing their lesser plans of annoying the ene-
my. It was not a moment for fastidious inquiries
into abuses of any description; and oppression
and injustice were the natural consequences of
the possession of power, which was uncurbed by
the restraints of civil authority. In time, a dis-
tinct order of the community was formed, whose
sole occupation appears to have been relieving
their fellow citizens from any little excess of tem-
poral prosperity, they might be thought to enjoy,
under the pretence of patriotism, and the love of
liberty.
Occasionally, the aid of military authority was
not wanting, in enforcing these salutary distribu-
tions of worldly goods; and a petty holder of a
commission, in the state militia, was to be seen
giving the sanction, of something like legality, to
acts of the most unlicensed robbery -- and, not un-
frequently, bloodshed.
On the part of the British, the stimulus of loyal-
ty was by no means suffered to sleep, where so
fruitful a field offered, on which it might be ex-
pended. But their freebooters were enrolled, and
their efforts more systematized. Long experience
had taught their leaders the efficacy of concen-
trated force; and, unless tradition does great injus-
tice to their exploits, the result did no little credit
to their foresight. This corps -- we presume, from
their known affection to that useful animal -- had re-
ceived the significant appellation of "Cow-Boys."
Cæsar was, however, far too loyal to associate
men who held the commission of George III., with
the irregular warriors, whose excesses he had so
often witnessed, and from whose rapacity, neither
his poverty, nor his bondage, had suffered even
him to escape uninjured. The Cow-Boys, there-
fore, did not receive their proper portion of the
severity of the black's remark, when he said, no
Christian -- nothing but a "Skinner," could betray
a pious child, while honoring his father with a vi-
sit, full of peril, and the danger of captivity.