SCENE 27 - Morning at the LOCUSTS
(FRANCES follows SARAH out on to the piazza.)
SARAH: There is something disagreeable about this surgeon of DUNWOODIE,
that causes me to wish him away most heartily, but I forget he is one of
your renowned corps of Virginians and must be spoken of reverently.
FRANCES: As respectfully as you please, my dear sister, there is but
little danger of exceeding the truth.
SARAH: Not in your opinion, but I think Mr. DUNWOODIE has taken advantage
of our hospitality; he has made our father's house a hospital.
FRANCES: We ought to be grateful that none of the patients it contains
are dearer to us.
SARAH: Your own brother is one.
FRANCES: True, but he leaves his room and thinks his wound lightly purchased
by the pleasure of being with his family; if this dreadful suspicion that
is affixed to his visit were removed, I could consider his wound of little
consequence.
SARAH sings FRUITS OF REBELLION:
"Now ... you have the fruits of your rebellion ... Now...
they are brought home ... for you to cry ... Our brother wounded and a prisoner
... and perhaps ... to be hung ... as a spy. (Repeat melody) "Now ...
we are victims of your cursed war .. our ... dear father shows ... pains
of distress ... his home a prison ... now for my true love ... over which
... father is ... powerless."
"and not improbably ... his estates are torn from
him .. because of loyalty ... by our brother to the king."
(In the distance they see a single horse-chaise making its way between
stones scattered over the country road leading through the valley. As the
travelers approach their gate, it is thrown open by the dragoon sent by
Major DUNWOODIE to the father of Captain SINGLETON, requesting the need
of his sister's aid.)
(AUNT JEANETTE advances to receive their guest, and the sisters unite
in giving her the kindest welcome. She is young, of light and fragile form
in exquisite proportions with large black, piercing eyes, at times a little
wild. Her hair was luxuriant and fell in raven blackness, with a few locks
falling on her cheeks, giving a chilling contrast to the whiteness of her
skin.)
(Dr. SITGREAVES supported her from the chaise, as she turned an expressive
look on his face, which was immediately understood.)
Dr. SITGREAVES: Your brother is out of danger and wishes to see you,
Miss SINGLETON.
(She bursts into a flood of tears. FRANCES stood, contemplating the action
with a kind of uneasy admiration, but now springs to her side with the ardor
of a sister, and kindly drawing her arm within her own, leads her to her
brother's room.)
SCENE 28 - Morning, moments later in Capt. SINGLETON's room
(ISABELLA SINGLETON finds her brother looking better and in less danger
than her sensitive imagination had led her to suppose. Her spirits rose
in proportion and passed to something like gaiety. Her face lights with
a smile so fascinating that FRANCES, who, in compliance with ISABELLA's
entreaties accompanied her to the bedroom, sits gazing on a countenance
that possessed so wonderful a variability, it impels a charm beyond her
control.)
(As his sister raises herself from his arms, the youth threw an earnest
look at FRANCES, his first glance at the lovely linements of our heroine,
but turns away in disappointment. He rubs his forehead and seems bewildered,
like waking from a dream.)
GEORGE SINGLETON: Where is DUNWOODIE, ISABELLA? That excellent fellow
is never wary of kind actions. After a day of such service as that of yesterday,
he has spent the night in bringing me a nurse, whose presence alone is able
to raise me from my couch.
(His sister's countenance changes; her eye roves about the room with
a wildness that repels FRANCES, who studies her movements.)
ISABELLA: DUNWOODIE? Is he not here? I thought to have met him by my
brother's bed.
GEORGE: He has duties that require his presence elsewhere; the English
are said to be out by the way of the Hudson, and they give us light troops
but little rest. Surely nothing else could have kept him so long from a
wounded friend, but ISABELLA, the meeting has been too much for you, you
tremble.
(ISABELLA makes no reply; she reaches toward the table holding the nourishment
of the Captain. FRANCES comprehends her wishes and provides a glass of water.)
ISABELLA: Doubtless it is his duty. 'Twas said above, a royal party
was moving on the river; though I passed the troops but two miles from this
spot.
GEORGE: On the march, ISABELLA?
ISABELLA: No, dismounted, and seemingly at rest.
(He gazes at his sister, then turns to FRANCES, who rises.)
GEORGE: If you pardon the rudeness, I would request to have the presence
of Capt. LAWTON for a moment.
(FRANCES hastens to comply with his wish, and shortly returns. As the
requested trooper enters -)
GEORGE: LAWTON, hear you from the Major?
LAWTON: His man has been here twice, but you know the red-coats are
abroad, and DUNWOODIE commands in the county; these English must be looked
to.
GEORGE: True, but how is it that you are idle?
LAWTON: My sword arm is not in the best condition, and Roanoke has but
a shambling gait this morning; there is another reason I could mention,
if it were not that Miss WHARTON would never forgive me.
FRANCES: Speak, I beg, without dread of my displeasure.
(She says, returning the good-humored smile of the trooper.)
LAWTON: The odors of your kitchen, then, forbid my quitting your domains,
until I qualify myself to speak with more certainty concerning the fatness
of the land.
FRANCES: Oh, AUNT JEANETTE is exerting herself to do credit to my father's
hospitality. I am a truant from her labors, and I shall be a stranger in
her favor, unless I offer my assistance.
(FRANCES hurriedly leaves to seek her aunt. The wounded officer follows
her with his eyes, as she moves with infantile grace.)
GEORGE: Such an aunt and niece are seldom to be met with, JOHN, this
seems a fairy, but the aunt is angelic.
LAWTON: You are doing well, I see; your enthusiasm for the sex holds
its own.
GEORGE: I should be ungrateful as well as insensible, did I not bear
testimony to the loveliness of Miss JEANETTE.
LAWTON: A good motherly lady, but as to love, that is a matter of taste.
A few years younger, with deference to her prudence and experience, would
accord better with my fancy.
GEORGE: She must be under twenty
LAWTON: I think she is nearer forty.
ISABELLA: You have mistaken an elder sister for the aunt; you must be
silent your feelings are beginning to affect your frame.
(The entrance of Dr. SITGREAVES, who in some alarm notices the increase
of feverish symptoms of his patient, causes the trooper to leave, as the
doctor informs him:)
Dr. SITGREAVES: Several hours of my rubbing Roanoke's limbs seems to
enable your horse to place his feet in a systematic motion now.
LAWTON: For that I am supremely grateful. Now I shall be able to join
the troops at the Four Corners, but not until enjoying the results of the
delicious aromas rising from the kitchen.
SCENE 29 - Same day, Col WELLMEYER's room
(Captain HENRY WHARTON enters Colonel WELLMEYER room and extends his
sympathy as to their misfortune, which they both know is termed their defeat,
owing to the rashness of the colonel, but was only spoken of, as an unfortunate
incident which deprived the English of their leader. As the colonel dresses
-.)
WELLMEYER: In short, WHARTON, in may be called a combination of untoward
events; your own ungovernable horse prevented my orders from being carried
to the Major, in season to flank the rebels.
HENRY: Very true, had we succeeded in getting a few fires upon them
in flank, we should have sent these Virginians to the right about.
WELLMEYER: Ay, and that in double quick time, then it was necessary
to rout the guides, you know, and then the movement gave them the best possible
opportunity to charge. (kicking off another slipper.)
HENRY: Yes, and this Major DUNWOODIE never overlooks an advantage.
WELLMEYER: I think if we had the thing to do over again, we might alter
the chase, though the chief thing the rebels have now to boast of is my
capture. They were repulsed, you saw, in their attempt to drive us from
the wood.
HENRY: At least they would have been, had they made an attack (throws
the rest of the colonel's clothes to him.)
WELLMEYER: Why, that is the same thing, to assume such an attitude as
to intimidate your enemy is the chief art of war.
HENRY: Doubtless, then, you may remember in one of their charges they
were completely routed.
WELLMEYER: True, true, had I been there to have improved that advantage,
we might have turned the table on the Yankees.
SCENE 30 - Mid-afternoon same day, in WHARTON dining room
(Capt LAWTON had dressed himself befitting the extensive sweet-smelling
odors arising from the subterranean territories of CAESAR, vapors charged
with spices of the east. )
(To honor this feast the Captain's head, which nature had ornamented
with the blackness of a crow, now shines with the whiteness of snow, and
his bony hand, that so well became the saber, peers from beneath a ruffle
with something like maiden coyness. His boots shine with more than holiday
splendor.)
(Sent to inform guests of dinner, CAESAR moves through the apartments
charged with an importance exceeding that which accompanied his melancholy
task of the morning, and eager to tell any who will listen his tales of
the night before, as served to open the eyes of the listener to their fullest
width.)
CAESAR: Ah! MISS JEANETTE, 'twas awful to see JOHNNY BIRCH walk on a
feet when he lie dead!
(That concluded the conversation with Miss PEYTON urging him to wait
until a future period, as her responsibilities for the meal's procedure
commenced.)
(She had collected guests of the household, with the exception of bed-ridden
Captain SINGLETON, into a drawing room, with the other men in their best
available attire. Aunt JEANETTE deemed the occasion worthy, not only of
extraordinary preparations in the culinary department, but had seen to deck
her own person in a cap of exquisite lawn, ornamented in front with a border
of lace in a manner to allow a display of artificial flowers on the summit
of her fine forehead.)
(Her dress was a rich heavy violet silk, cut low around the bust, with
a stomacher of the same material that fitted close to the figure, exhibiting
the form from shoulders to waist; below the dress was full with a small
hoop which displayed the fabric to advantage. The tall stature of the lady
was heightened by her shoes of the same dress fabric, whose heels added
more than an inch to the liberality of nature.)
(Her sleeves were short and fell off at the elbows in large ruffles
trimmed in triplicates of Dresden lace, that hung in rich profusion from
the arms when extended, which had yet retained their whiteness and symmetry.
A treble row of large pearls encircled her throat, and a handkerchief of
lace partially concealed that part of her person that the silk had left
exposed, but, the experience of forty years had warned Miss PEYTON, should
now be veiled.)
(The taste of SARAH had kept even pace with her aunt, and in a dress
little differing from her aunt's except in material and the color of a bluish
nature, exhibited her imposing form to equal advantage; though twenty years
did not require the screen that was prudent at forty. An exquisite border
of lace hid, in some measure, what the satin left exposed to view, so the
upper part of the bust and fine fall of the shoulders were blazing in all
their native beauty.)
(Like the aunt, her neck was also ornamented with a treble row of pearls,
but her head held no cap. Her hair was pulled up from the face to reveal
a forehead like polished marble. A few straggling curls fell gracefully
on the neck, and a small bouquet of artificial flowers was placed like a
coronet over her brow.)
(Miss SINGLETON sat beside SARAH and differed little in appearance, except
that her raven hair was not powdered white. FRANCES, the younger daughter
of MR. WHARTON, had left the city before reaching the age of fashionable
womanhood. This youthful girl had ventured to trust her beauty to the height
nature had bestowed.)
(Several times in the course of the morning she had determined to bestow
more than the usual pains to her appearance, yet each time she formed this
conclusion, she looked toward the north and invariably changed it. At the
appointed dinner hour she appeared in the drawing room attired much the
same as her sister in a dress of pale blue silk.)
(Her hair was left to the wild curls of nature; its exuberance being
confined to the crown of her head by a long, low comb of light tortoise-shell;
a color barely distinguishable in the golden hue of her tresses. Her dress
fitted the form with an exactitude that one might imagine the girl more
than suspected the beauty it displayed. A tucker of Dresden lace softened
the contour of the figure, and around her throat is a gold necklace clasped
in front with a rich cornelian.)
(CAESAR had appeared in the doorway, making a low reverence, that for
centuries announced, "dinner waits." The procession into the dining
room is led by Mr WHARTON in his powdered wig and drab coat bedecked with
enormous buttons, escorting Miss SINGLETON by the arm; Dr. SITGREAVES follows
in the same manner with Miss PEYTON. )
(Colonel WELLMEYER was honored by a smile from SARAH, so he obliges by
sharing her company to the seating arrangement, while FRANCES offers the
ends of her fingers to Capt. LAWTON with maiden bashfulness. HENRY follows
all.)
( After much time is expended in seating the party with all points of
etiquette, to the great joy of CAESAR, who knows the disadvantage of eating
a cold dinner, he begins the parade of the abundant meal. -)
[ - here set to music in disbelief that even half of it could have been
consumed by the entire party at this table, plus all the kitchen help.]
Chorus of cooks and aides all help
sing chorus before each verse of THE DINNER:
Chorus: "Oh-h, The dinner, the dinner, you cannot grow
thinner ... if you have tried everything served ... at the dinner."
Dr. SITGREAVES sings:"There is CAESAR as he leads the
parade ... with a turkey roasted and glazed ... next comes Captain LAWTON's
man ... with a spiced Virginia ham. Third in line for this great feast ...
are two chickens fricasseed. Colonel WELLMEYER young valet carries them
in on silver trays."
CHORUS, then LAWTON sings: "Next we see arrive the good
helper of ... Doctor SITGREAVES in surgeon's gloves ... An enormous soup
tureen, ... issuing huge clouds of steam, ... fogged his spectacles
so much ... he sets the vessel on the rug ... till he cleans his glasses
so ... he can see where it must go."CHORUS
Mr. WHARTON sings: "Then a pair of roasted succulent
ducks ... borne by one of GEORGE's old bunch ... last the boy with giant
dish ... vegetables for any wish ... then the line comes round once more
... flocks of pigeons served before ... mounds of quails and shoals of fish
... bass and woodcock in each dish."
CHORUS, then HENRY sings: "For the third attack they
bring quantities ... of potatoes, gravy and beets ... Cold-slaw, onions,
condiments ... ending this meal's complements ...though soon after wine
has pleased ... another round brings pastries ... pumpkin pies and cakes
galore ... apple tarts and petit fours." CHORUS.
(Afterward comes drinking with the ladies. As the wine was excellent
and the glasses ample, Capt. LAWTON bares this interruption with good nature.
So fearful is he of giving offense, or of omitting any of the nicer points
of etiquette, that he perseveres until not one of his fair companions can,
with justice, reproach him in this particular.)
(Mr. WHARTON had been one of a set of politicians in New York, whose
principal exploits before the war had been to assemble and pass sage opinions
on the signs of the times, under the inspiration of certain liquor made
from a grape that grew on the south side of the island of Madeira, and found
its way into the colonies of North America through the route of the West
Indes, sojourning awhile in the Western Archipelago for improvement.)
(A large supply of this cordial had been drawn from his storehouse in
the city, and some of it now sparkles in the bottle before the Captain,
by rays of the sun which pass through it obliquely like amber. Mr. WHARTON
pours out a glass of wine for the lady who sitting at his right hand, and
pushes the bottle to a guest -)
Mr. WHARTON: We are to be honored with a toast from Miss SINGLETON.
(Trembling and turning a bit pale while rallying her thoughts, she replies
meekly):
ISABELLA SINGLETON: Major DUNWOODIE.
(The health is drunk cheerfully by all but Col.WELLMEYER, who wets his
lips and draws figures on the table with some spilt liquor. He breaks the
silence by addressing Captain LAWTON.)
WELLMEYER: I suppose, sir, Major DUNWOODIE will receive promotion in
the rebel army for the advantage my misfortune gave him over my command.
LAWTON: Col. WELLMEYER, your pardon; Major DUNWOODIE owes his allegiance
to the confederated states of North America, and where he owes it, he pays
it. Such a man is no rebel. Promoted I hope he may be, both because he deserves
it, and because I am next in rank in the corps; and I know not what you
call a misfortune, unless you deem meeting the Virginia horse as such.
Col. WELLMEYER: We will not differ about terms, sir, I spoke as duty
to my sovereign prompted - but do you not call the loss of a commander a
misfortune to a party?
LAWTON: It certainly may be so.
Mr. WHARTON: Miss PEYTON, would you favor us with a toast?
(She nods her head with dignity as a long absent bloom stole over her
face)
AUNT JEANETTE: General Montrose.
(Regardless of the nice maneuvers of the host to change topics-)
Dr. SITGREAVES: There is no term more doubtful than the word misfortune;
some deem one thing a misfortune, others the opposite. Misfortune begets
misfortune; life is a misfortune, for it may be the means of enduring misfortune;
and death is a misfortune, as it abridges the enjoyments of life.
LAWTON: It is a misfortune that our mess has no such wine as this.
Mr. WHARTON: We will pledge you a sentiment in it , sir, as it seems
to suit your taste.
(LAWTON fills his glass to the brim and makes a toast.)
LAWTON: A speedy peace or a stirring war.
Dr. SITGREAVES: I drink your toast, Captain LAWTON, though I greatly
distrust your construction of activity. In my poor judgment, cavalry should
be kept in the rear, to improve a victory and not sent in front to gain
it. All history shows that the horse have done most when properly held in
reserve.
(Miss PEYTON rises, and the younger ladies follow her out. Nearly at
that moment Mr. WHARTON and his son make apologies for their leaving, which
was required on account of the death of a neighbor.)
Col. WELLMEYER: If anything can sweeten captivity and wounds, it must
be the happiness of suffering in the society of the ladies who have left
us.
Dr. SITGREAVES: Sympathy and kindness have their influence on the human
system (knocking ashes from his cigar). The connection is intimate between
the moral and physical feelings; but still, to accomplish a cure, and restore
nature to the healthy tone it has lost from disease or accident, requires
more than can flow from unguided sympathies. In such cases, the lights -
(and he sees LAWTON watching him.)
WELLMEYER: You were saying, sir -
SITGREAVES: The purport of my remark meant to say - that a bread poultice
will not set a broken arm.
LAWTON: More is the pity, for next to eating, the nourishment could
not be more innocently applied.
Dr. SITGREAVES: To you, COL. WELLMEYER, as a man of education, I can
safely appeal. (The colonel bows.) You must have observed the dreadful havoc
made in your ranks by the men who were led by this gentleman; how when blows
lighted on their frames, life was invariable extinguished, beyond all hope
of scientific reparation; how certain yawning wounds were inflicted, that
must set at defiance the art of the most experienced practitioner.
(He continues.)
SITGREAVES: Now, sir, to you I triumphantly appeal, therefore to know
whether your detachment would not have been as effectually defeated, if
the men had all lost a right arm, for instance, as if they had all lost
their heads.
WELLMEYER: The triumph of your appeal is somewhat hasty, sir.
Dr. SITGREAVES: Is the cause of liberty advanced a step by such injudicious
harshness in the field?
WELLMEYER: I am yet to learn that the cause of liberty is in any manner
advanced by the services of any gentleman in the rebel army.
SITGREAVES: Not liberty! Good God! For what then are we contending?
COL. WELLMEYER sings BOASTED LIBERTY:
"Liberty!.. Your boasted liberty!.. Who does it set
free?.. You still have slavery ... Slavery ... yes, slavery... you're putting
tyranny ... of a mob on the throne ... of a prince who is known ... as a
kind and a lenient man; ... so please tell me ... if you can ... where is
the consistency ... of your boasted liberty?"
Dr. SITGREAVES: Consistency!
WELLMEYER: Ay, sir, your consistency. Your congress of sages have published
a manifesto, wherein they set forth the equality of political rights.
Dr. SITGREAVES: 'Tis true and it is done most ably.
WELLMEYER: I say nothing of its ability; but if true, why not set your
slaves at liberty?
(This argument, which is thought by most of the Colonel's countrymen
a triumphant answer to a thousand eloquent facts, lost none of its weight
by the manner in which it was uttered.)
Dr. SITGREAVES: Every American feels humbled at the necessity of vindicating
his country from the apparent inconsistency and injustice of the laws alluded
to. His feelings are much like those of an honorable man who is compelled
to exonerate himself from a disgraceful charge, although he may know the
accusation to be false.
(At the bottom, Dr. SITGREAVES had much good sense, and thus called on,
he took up the cudgels of argument in downright earnest.)
Dr. SITGREAVES: We deem it a liberty to have the deciding voice in the
councils by which we are governed. We think it is a hardship to be ruled
by the king of a people who live at a distance of thousand miles, and who
cannot, and who do not, feel a single political interest in common with
ourselves.
(He continues -)
Dr. SITGREAVES: I say nothing of oppression; the child was of age, and
was entitled to the privileges of majority. in such cases, there is but
one tribunal to which to appeal for a nation's rights - it is power, and
we now make the appeal.
WELLMEYER: Such doctrines may suit your present purposes, but I apprehend
it is opposed to all the opinions and practices of civilized nations.
Dr. SITGREAVES: It is conformity with the practices of all nations;
who would be ruled when he can rule? The only rational ground to take is,
that every community has a right to govern itself, so that in no manner
it violates the laws of God.
WELLMEYER: And is holding your fellow-creatures in bondage in conformity
to those laws?
Dr. SITGREAVES: Sir, slavery is of very ancient origin, and it seems
to have been confined to no particular religion or form of government; every
nation of civilized Europe does, or has held their fellow-creatures in this
kind of duress.
WELLMEYER: (proudly) You will except Great Britain, sir.
Dr. SITGREAVES: No, sir, I cannot except Great Britain. It was her children,
her ships, and her laws, that first introduced the practice into these states;
and on her institutions the judgment must fall. There is not a foot of ground
belonging to England, in which a Negro would be useful, that has not its
slave. England herself has none, but England is overflowing with physical
force, a part of which she is obliged to maintain in the shape of paupers.
(He continues -)
Dr.SITGREAVES: The same is true of France, and most other European countries.
So long as we were content to remain colonies, nothing was said of our system
of domestic slavery; but now, when we are resolute to obtain as much freedom
as the vicious system of metropolitan rule has left us, that which is England's
gift has become our reproach. Will your master liberate the slaves of his
subjects should he succeed in subduing the new states, or will he condemn
the white to the same servitude as that in which he has been so long content
to see the blacks?
(He continues - )
Dr. SITGREAVES: It is true, we continue the practice; but we must come
gradually to the remedy, or create an evil greater than that which we endure
at present: doubtless as we advance, the manumission of our slaves accompany
us; until happily the fair regions I mentioned shall exist, without a single
image of the Creator that is held in a state which disqualifies him to judge
of that Creator's goodness.
[Note: the actual author is writing in 1820 of situations in 1780, and
here writes:]
(It will be remembered that the doctor spoke forty years ago, and the
Colonel was unable to contradict his prophetic assertion.)
(Finding the subject getting to be knotty, the Englishman retired to
the parlor in which the ladies had assembled, and seated beside SARAH, he
found a more pleasing time relating events of the fashionable life in the
metropolis and causing her face to glow at his flattering remarks.)
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